The Theory of Deviance: Portland Rebels, Book 3

by Rebecca Grace Allen

  Deviance is unacceptable. It’s taboo. And it’s the one thing he’s always wanted.

  Portland Rebels, Book 3

  Painful shyness isn’t the only reason Mikey Pelletier is a twenty-five-year-old virgin. Between working for his parents and volunteering at his church, he neither has the time nor the inclination to admit his bisexuality to the world—or to himself.

  A visit from Krissy Porter will hopefully fix everything. After three months of chatting with her, Mikey’s got one carefully planned week to win her heart and lose his V-card. He’s hoping he can pull it off, even with her roommate along for the ride.

  Krissy has been drawn to Mikey for a while. He’s so easygoing, she thinks he could be the calm in her storm. But there’s an extra complication when she comes to visit: her friend-with-benefits, “hetero-flexible” roommate, Rafe.

  During a week of revelations, intimacy, and kink, Krissy and Rafe become the angel and devil on Mikey’s shoulders, tempting him in different directions. And all three of them discover that a week of pure deviance can lead to the most uncontrollable emotion of all: love.

  Warning: This book contains innocent board game-playing that takes a sexy turn, use of recreational substances, back-door action, and some smokin’ hot threesomes. Plus, scenes of inner-demon slaying. Fans and tissues advised.

  The Theory of Deviance

  Rebecca Grace Allen

  Dedication

  This book never would’ve come together without the support of so many people. Christa, whose enthusiasm in a side-note conversation about Mikey in my last Portland Rebels book helped give birth to this one. A huge shout-out goes to A.J., Amber, Marie, Sarah, and Tamsen—your brilliant critique was essential. To Oliver, who answered my myriad of questions about NYU, and Craig and Liz, for explaining the ins and outs of national touring companies. J.S., thank you for all your feedback, from the inception of this book to the final draft. I owe you another drink or ten. Jennifer Miller, for jumping in and getting this book ready to roll. And as always, my family, who have never stopped believing in me.

  This story is for anyone who feels like they’re too broken for love. Keep going. You’re worth it.

  Chapter One

  Mikey Pelletier shifted his weight from one foot to the other as he stood in the waiting room of the Portland Transportation Center. Almost ten at night on the Friday after Christmas, and dozens of people were milling around, waiting to retrieve or send off loved ones. The place was nothing special—checkerboard carpeting, fluorescent lighting, and row after row of those uncomfortable metal chairs—but nervous excitement slammed into Mikey nonetheless as he scanned the bay doors.

  Weeks of planning had led to this moment, hours finagled, and overtime accrued, and now he was on the stay-cation he’d been waiting for. One with transportation that included heat as well as access to a parent-free landing pad, giving him a taste of the independence he desperately needed.

  There was another thing he desperately needed, and he’d be seeing it soon in the form of Krissy Porter, the quirky college senior he’d met three months earlier.

  The sign announcing her bus’s arrival flickered to life, and Mikey’s gut clenched with an uneasy mix of hope and anticipation and anxiety. He’d only spent a few days with Krissy when they first met, but she’d knocked him off his ass the second they were introduced.

  It wasn’t just because of how damn cute she was, five foot two with raven-black hair, bright blue eyes, and glasses bigger than his own. It was because she had this energy to her—always talking a mile a minute, fun and outgoing with the right amount of geeky thrown in.

  He hadn’t talked to her right away, of course, hadn’t walked up to her with the kind of cocky self-confidence the friends who’d introduced them always had. Sure, he’d spent half his life living vicariously through his buddies’ defiant behavior, but Mikey had never been much of a rebel. With eyes too dry for contact lenses, unruly hair, and a wiry frame that never managed to pack on much muscle no matter how much time he spent with a snow shovel or a bag of mulch, he’d always felt like the odd man out—an ugly duckling among cooler, better-looking swans. He never challenged authority, bowing out whenever conflict came his way. It was probably why he was still a virgin at twenty-five years old.

  No, it was definitely why. But that was going to change this week.

  At least, he hoped it would.

  Nothing had happened between him and Krissy back in September, other than a walk along the beach and a last-minute invitation to be her date at the wedding that had been the reason for her visit. Their time together had ended with a quick kiss and a note she’d jammed in his hands asking him to call her. He’d barely waited a day before doing exactly that.

  The three hundred and fifteen miles between his home in Maine and where she went to college at NYU Tisch had limited their conversations to text and Skype, but they’d been talking several times a week since. They hadn’t gotten any face-to-face time recently because of her exams, but today she was coming back here again to see him.

  His phone buzzed. Mikey pulled it from his pocket, smiling as the screen lit up with a message from her.

  I need the bathroom right this second or I’m gonna die!!!!

  Mikey exhaled on a chuckle. Krissy’s silliness was one of his favorite things about her, and Lord knew he needed some humor in his life, especially given how tense shit had gotten at home.

  Her bus parked beyond the double glass doors, and Mikey’s limbs went tingly as he watched the passengers disembark. Shoving his hair out of his eyes, he stood up straighter and looked for her and the girl she was traveling with.

  Krissy’s companion was the only downside of the week: she was being accompanied by her roommate, both of them having vacated their Queens apartment in order to trade homes with Mikey’s friend Dean and his girlfriend, Jamie.

  It had been Dean’s brilliant idea to do an apartment swap with Krissy, arranging a vacation-rental switch like the one in the movie The Holiday. Appropriate, considering the time of year. Jamie and Krissy weren’t strangers though—they’d been family-by-marriage since Krissy’s sister had wed Jamie’s brother in the fall. Jamie had always wanted to visit Manhattan, and Dean knew Mikey was hung up on his missed opportunity with Krissy. A few phone calls later and boom, the plans were set in motion. Dean and Jamie were off to visit the Big Apple, and Krissy was spending her winter break in Portland.

  Inviting her roommate along was a sacrifice Mikey hadn’t wanted to make, but it was worth it if it got Krissy here. He wasn’t sure what to expect from the coming days since neither of them had stated their interest in words, but he’d be a liar if he said he wasn’t hoping for something to happen.

  It was more than wanting to make his virginity a thing of the past, though. He needed the security that came with being involved with someone of the opposite sex.

  Emphasis on opposite.

  A bad taste found its way into Mikey’s mouth, memories of the events that turned his life upside down twisting through his stomach like a tangle of weeds. He wasn’t planning to share that part of his past with Krissy. The virgin thing would come up eventually, but telling her he’d fallen for a guy in college—the shock of a lifetime, considering he’d grown up thinking he was straight—was definitely off the agenda.

  His lack of honesty was a deviation from the norm, but Mikey had learned his lesson. He’d told his parents, but they hadn’t given him the support he’d hoped for. They still loved him, and weren’t even all that shocked, it seemed. But they were more worried ab
out the impact his queerness might have on the family business than they were about him, reminding him of their stake in the community and begging him not to “choose this lifestyle”.

  As if he’d had the option of choosing anything. Discovering he was bi wasn’t something he would’ve asked for in the great cosmic multiple-choice list of shit to be born with.

  But this week was an opportunity to put that behind him. To have the straight, normal relationship he wanted and live a nice, quiet life in this nice, quiet town, continue his job working for his parents and volunteering as the youth choir leader at his church.

  Being raised Catholic had only made Mikey more confused when his sexual interests took a sudden one-eighty. The Bible was pretty clear on what was right or wrong when it came to homosexuality, and while Mikey hoped an almighty being could never be that exclusionary, he wasn’t sure God would accept him if he gave in to his feelings about men either.

  Feeling. Singular. It had only been the one time. He hadn’t done anything about it anyway, so it was possible this same-sex attraction thing was all in his head and would vanish once he got some real action.

  People began filing in, and Mikey did a double take when he caught sight of Krissy. Or at least, someone he thought was her. Same oval face, same tiny stature despite the puffy jacket she was wearing, but the hair spilling out of her furry hood was no longer black. It was a honey-brown color with lighter streaks framing her face. Her glasses were gone too.

  The feeling that she’d changed from the girl he’d met was unnerving, but then she smiled and waved wildly at him, and Mikey’s worries dissipated like warm breath on a morning freeze. That was Krissy, all right. Goofy as he remembered, and he had to admit, just as sexy without the glasses.

  She did a little dance and pointed at the bathroom, her lips pinching into a grimace of obvious distress. Mikey laughed and nodded, gazing after her in confusion as she booked it down the hall. She was still striking even with the changes—a kind of Renaissance-era beauty, with strong cheekbones and a high forehead, a little more meat to her bones, and a face so expressive you couldn’t help smiling when she did.

  He didn’t know why she’d altered her appearance, but she was a theater student after all. Maybe she’d done it for a role.

  Waiting for her return, Mikey scanned the crowd, wondering who among them was her roommate. He didn’t know what to be on the lookout for, since Krissy hadn’t given him a description. All Mikey knew was that she was older, and that the two of them had met while performing in a show together. He figured he’d have to entertain the other girl some of the time, but prayed she’d be an understanding person. Alone time with Krissy was essential.

  The door from the bus lane opened again, frigid air blasting in as a man held it open for the last group of passengers. With one large duffle bag hoisted over his shoulder and another gripped easily in his other hand, he strode into the room with confidence. Something that could only be described as a swagger.

  A tingling chill raced up Mikey’s spine. The guy was tall, with a styled crop of short brown hair. A thin, finely trimmed beard and sparse mustache were the perfect accessories to his diamond-shaped face. Dressed in a leather jacket, black boots, and a pair of jeans that outlined the ridiculous amount of long, lean muscle in between, this guy was everything Mikey wasn’t.

  And everything he wanted.

  The guy’s gaze swept across the room and landed on Mikey. Dark-blue eyes locked with his.

  Shit.

  Mikey soldered his jaw shut and turned to face the restrooms. Thoughts like those weren’t welcome with Krissy around. Her presence here was a chance to change things. To prove his attraction to men was simply a factor of his virgin curiosity. To drive those desires from his mind, because Mikey was afraid if he didn’t, hellfire and damnation were all that awaited him.

  The women’s room door flew open, and Krissy bounded out. She skipped across the room and gleefully wrapped her arms around him.

  “Hi!” Her breath came out in a humid rush as she pecked his cheek with a light kiss. The tip of her nose was still cold.

  “Hi back,” he said, returning her hug.

  Mikey barely cleared five-eight, but Krissy’s size and the way her shoulders inched up as she snuggled closer made him feel tall enough for the NBA. She peered up at him, and Mikey’s heartbeat stuttered as he gazed into her eyes. They were a dramatic violet now instead of the bright blue they’d been before. Colored contacts maybe? Or had he remembered the color wrong?

  “You look…” He searched for a word. “Different.”

  She arched her brow. “Good different?”

  The look on her face made him worry he’d offended her until she pursed her lips and grinned.

  God, those lips. So full and soft, with a little cleft in her chin he wanted to run his thumb over, kiss her in the middle of this crowded bus station, if only he had the balls to do it.

  Painful shyness. Another reason why Mikey was as pure as the driven snow. But he could at least manage to tell her he dug her new style.

  “Good,” he sputtered. “Definitely good.”

  “Thank you.” She went up on her toes and whispered into his ear, “I was hoping you’d like it.”

  Mikey shivered, all his awareness on the feel of her mouth, on the intimacy of softly spoken words. He made a tentative squeeze at her hips, and the slightly mischievous gleam that appeared in her eyes had his heart racing.

  “I’m so happy you’re here,” he said.

  “Me too.” Krissy stepped back and stretched her arms over her head. “Longest. Trip. Ever.”

  A duffle bag landed by their feet, followed by a deep chuckle. “You said it, sweetheart.”

  Mikey held himself still, like he’d just noticed a wild animal and was doing his best not to attract its attention. He slid his gaze sideways, but the slow movement didn’t change the fact that the hot guy from the doorway was standing next to them.

  “A subway ride into the city. Four and a half hours on a train, another sitting around Boston South Station and two more on a bus.” The man dropped the other bag to the floor and rolled his shoulders. “We’re chartering a plane home, Krissy. I don’t care how much it costs.”

  “Yeah, because that’s in our budget,” she replied with a giggle.

  Our budget? Mikey narrowed his eyes, gaze darting between them until Krissy gave him a sheepish grin.

  “Oh man, I forgot to introduce you two. Rafe, this is Mikey. Mikey, this is my roommate, Rafe.”

  No. Please, no.

  Rafe stuck a hand out. “Pleasure to meet you.”

  The heavy, sick weight of jealousy and disappointment slinked into Mikey’s stomach. He’d thought Krissy’s roommate was female, but a quick mental recount of their conversations proved she’d never given him any reason to think that at all. The guy was even better looking up close—he had the kind of model-quality good looks you’d see on those vampire TV shows where everyone had sex with everyone else—which made Mikey feel about ten times more intimidated and threatened. But he extended his own hand in a reflex anyway, a slow-motion move that made it feel like his arm was a separate entity from his body.

  “Thanks. You too.” He gave Rafe his best manly handshake. Despite the absence of gloves, Rafe’s hand was hot, like he hadn’t just been outside in subzero temperatures and was somehow lit by his own internal-combustion engine.

  Mikey released Rafe’s hand and looked to Krissy. “Ready to go?”

  Her nod was accompanied by an enthusiastic, “Ready!”

  Mikey glanced at Rafe and motioned to their bags. “You need a hand with those?”

  Rafe slung the bigger of the two duffles effortlessly over his shoulder. “I’ve got it.”

  Of course he did.

  The cold slammed into them as soon as they stepped outside, a blast of wind nearly forcing them back into
the vestibule.

  “Holy bejesus, it’s freezing,” Krissy said, and Mikey couldn’t help but snicker.

  Maine winters were harsh, the temperature barely climbing past the freezing mark from December to March, but the seasons were one of the things he loved most about it here. They were like their own life force, a living thing that gave each time of year character. Portland was a bit milder than the rest of the state—the climate was much more moderate along the coast. But it still snowed frequently, and there was a majesty to the ocean this time of year. The way the light hit the water in winter, creating a sparkle so intense you could feel how cold it was just by breathing… It reminded Mikey of a presence larger than himself.

  The weather was also what kept Pelletier Property Services, his family’s snow-removal and landscaping business, firmly in the black.

  “You get used to it,” he told her, then led them across the lot to a beat-up old Chevy pickup. It was Dean’s truck, and being tasked with looking after it this week was nothing short of a godsend. Mikey drove a company vehicle for work, but he was off the clock this week, and the Schwinn he used to get around town the rest of the time didn’t handle the icy roads well.

  He unlocked the steel truck box on the flatbed, turning to Krissy as Rafe chucked their bags into it.

  “You sure you’re okay having me stay with you?” he asked quietly.

  They’d talked about him crashing at Dean’s the week before, since he felt responsible for Krissy while she was here, and Portland’s closest METRO Bus stop was pretty far from the apartment. Dean had already given Mikey the green light to stay there—it was practically Mikey’s second home as it was, his safe haven when things at home hit critical mass—but he still needed Krissy’s okay.

  “Of course,” she said, and nodded toward Rafe. “I see this guy all the time. I came here to see you.”

  His distrust of the situation somewhat mollified, Mikey climbed into the driver’s seat. Krissy slid between him and Rafe, and began a constant flow of questions as Mikey drove. How cold did it get here? Were there icebergs in the ocean? Did the waves ever actually freeze? It was like traveling with a very inquisitive child, but her curiosity was endearing. He’d almost relaxed by the time they reached their destination.