Bet on Love

by A. F. Zoelle

  I raised my voice in my outrage, not caring that we were drawing looks from other people. “My whole life is in California! I can’t just move.”

  “Oh, don’t be so dramatic, Leopold.”

  “When were you planning on informing me about all of this?”

  She continued. “Don’t worry, the Nantucket Realtor has taken care of everything out there with the new house, and the California one already has a buyer lined up for your place. All you have to do is sign the papers to finalize the deal.”

  My head was spinning. I incredulously exclaimed, “You can’t sell my place! Your name isn’t on the deed.”

  She waved it away. “You should be glad I’m making this easy for you. I know you hate being bothered with this kind of stuff.”

  “You’re not selling my fucking house! I’m not moving to Nantucket, either!”

  “Stop, you’re causing a scene,” she snarled at me.

  “Oh, I haven’t even started making a scene yet,” I shot back, raging at her presumptuousness.

  Once again, Luci squeezed my thigh to calm me. The heat of my quick-fire rage shifted to burning lust in a second, disorienting me from the suddenness of it—and him being the source. Again.

  It was only after Luci’s touch retreated that my brain started working again. I reminded myself that I wasn’t marrying Olivia, and I sure as shit wasn’t moving to goddamn Nantucket with her. It was beyond outrageous that she believed she could uproot my entire existence without having the decency to at least ask me if I was cool with it. What was even more infuriating was I suspected separating me from Luci was her main motive in moving to the East Coast. It would be a cold day in hell before I let that happen.

  “Are you done?” Olivia asked in exasperation.

  Servers arriving with our food interrupted the feud. I composed myself as best I could, downing my full glass of water hoping it would help me recover from the worst hangover ever. What difference did it make to get fired up now? It didn’t stop me from seething over the disrespect they showed for me and Luci, though.

  The smell of everyone’s breakfast nauseated me, but it wasn’t entirely because of my awful hangover. I was the world’s biggest idiot. What was wrong with me that I had seriously intended to marry Olivia? Why had I been so willing to accept such a shitty life? I recalled all the times when Luci tried to persuade me that she was wrong for me—and every girlfriend before that. All he ever wanted was the best for me. No one knew me better than him, so why hadn’t I listened to him? I added it to the list of things I should apologize to him for later. Thank god he was too much of a nice guy to give me the “I told you so” speech I more than deserved.

  I used the saltshaker, before passing it to Luci. He started to reach out for it with his left hand out of habit.

  Olivia’s fork clattered on her plate and she screeched, “What the fuck?”

  “Language!” Jerry bellowed. Everyone in the restaurant was paying attention to us at this point. It was a miracle management hadn’t come over yet to request that we knock off the theatrics.

  It was the only time I had witnessed Olivia ignore her dad. She stared daggers at me instead. “You better have a damn good explanation for what I just saw.”

  “Wait, what happened?” Sharron questioned, a sentiment echoed by my mother.

  “That’s what I want to know.” She glared at us suspiciously. “Because it sure looked like Lucien was wearing my wedding ring.”

  For a fraction of a second, the coward in me considered laughing it off as two drunk friends goofing off trying on the weddings bands when it got stuck. Thankfully, the sour feeling in my stomach over her earlier behavior knocked some sense into me. No, even after we annulled our marriage, there was no way in hell I would ever crawl back to her after this.

  “That’s not your wedding ring,” I denied.

  “Prove it,” she challenged. “Show me.”

  I nodded in silent permission. It was a serious challenge to stop myself from laughing at his casual manner as he picked up his water, his diamond ring sparkling in the light. He took several long swallows to drain his glass while everyone stared with varying degrees of shock. It impressed me how smooth his performance was. He really did have beautifully slender fingers. I thought about them caressing me all over, sending another flare of confused desire through me.

  Olivia screeching brought me back to the present. “What the actual fuck, guys? That is my wedding ring!”

  “No, it’s his,” I corrected her. I took more pleasure in dropping that bombshell than I should have, but it was satisfying payback for that Nantucket bullshit.

  I expected her to scream, to throw something, or to jump across the table and try to yank the ring off Luci. What I hadn’t been prepared for was for her to slump against her chair, rolling her eyes while snarling, “I fucking knew it!”

  “Knew what?” Jerry demanded, his face turning red in his anger.

  Pretending to be me, Olivia mockingly said, “Oh, we’re not like that, babe. I promise, we’re not gay—we’re ‘just friends.’ It’s not weird that I call him Luci, so everyone assumes he’s my girlfriend. It’s harmless!” She snorted at her own words. “You’re a lying piece of shit, Leopold.”

  It wasn’t worth the effort to stand up for myself. She would believe whatever she wanted, regardless of what I said. All I gained trying to convince her otherwise was a worse migraine. I settled for shrugging. “It’s what’s best for everyone.”

  She stared at Luci in disgust. “You must be really proud of yourself for finally claiming him for your own.”

  “Unlike you, I love him for more than his bank account,” he replied, causing my eyes to widen in surprise. Was that an actual confession, or was he only fucking with her as payback?

  “And you wonder why I’ve hated you since day one?” she questioned with contempt.

  “I can assure you the feeling was mutual.” Luci’s comment once again caught me off guard. He had never been Olivia’s biggest fan, but it was news to me he hated her. In the past, he had treated her with an aloof politeness, careful not to antagonize her for my sake. Had that all been an act?

  She continued raging against Luci. “I’ll never forgive you for this!”

  “Somehow, I think I’ll be able to sleep at night,” he dryly retorted, his calmness rankling her. “Speaking of which, we need your key to the honeymoon suite, since you won’t be using it.”

  Every jaw dropped, mine included. The audacity of the demand was magnificent. I guess I underestimated how pissed he was at her.

  “Oh, get fucked.”

  “I’m planning on it right after you give us your key.” Holy hell, that was fucking hot. Did he mean it? It was only with a concentrated effort that I remembered I shouldn’t be interested.

  She spat with all the hatred in her heart, “I hope you choke on his dick and die.”

  “Olivia!” Jerry snapped, his rage turning him an interesting shade of purple.

  Pointing at Luci, she shouted, “He ruined my wedding, Daddy! He’s ruined everything!”

  “He didn’t ruin anything,” I defended him. “You should thank him for saving us divorce attorney fees.”

  “The honeymoon suite key would be an excellent place to start,” he added, gesturing with his fingers that she should give it to him. His actions drew attention to the sparkling diamond ring.

  It was probably a bad thing, but I loved this catty side of him. It was fun watching him demolish any trace of composure in my now ex-fiancée.

  She was apoplectic. Her mask had fallen, leaving her ugliness on full display. It wasn’t a good look on her. “Fine, if you want something—here.” She pulled off her engagement ring in revulsion to throw it at me.

  I caught it, exposing my wedding band in the process.

  She sneered, “There, now Lucien can have that, too. I don’t think my dress will fit him, though.”

  “Is this true?” Sharron asked, looking scandalized as she clutched her pearls. />
  “Yeah, she’s right. I don’t have the fake tits to fill out the dress as well as her,” Luci deadpanned.

  I could have kissed him for that perfect answer. Instead, I howled with laughter as Sharron got the vapors. The absurdity of the situation caused me to laugh harder. Everyone stared at us like we had lost our minds, but it was the first time in god only knows how long that I finally felt free. It was amazing.

  I jumped at the sound of my dad slamming his hands on the table. I had almost forgotten he was there, until he yelled, “I refuse to sit here and listen to you fags laughing like this is a joke!”

  His words slapped me hard, sobering me up fast as he stormed off. My mom rushed after him without a single glance at me. That hurt more than I would have imagined.

  “You both need to go. Now,” Olivia ordered.

  “With pleasure. All we need is your key,” Luci told her.

  Her only response was to flip him off with both hands.

  The joke was on her, because the reservation was under my name and I had access to the room without it. I stood up to address her. “If nothing else, I’m at least grateful that you forced me to realize I prefer to be with someone who loves me for more than being a Huntington. Thanks for that.”

  I savored the image of her mouth dropping open in disbelief as I interlaced my fingers with Luci’s and walked away hand in hand with him. As I left Olivia and her awful family behind me with my head held high, I didn’t look back once. There was no need to when Luci was with me.

  “You know Olivia will kill you for this,” I warned, sitting on a living room chair in the honeymoon suite we had commandeered after breakfast.

  He grinned at me as he plopped down on the sofa. “Hey, this whole thing was your idea. A rather brilliant one, I might add. Besides, I packed her bags and had them transferred to my old room, so I’m not being a total dick. She already has the key to that room. Plus, I could have made her pay for a new hotel room and left her shit in the hallway.”

  “I doubt that will be much of a consolation once she figures out what you’ve done,” I told him. “Honestly, I’m amazed she hasn’t come up here yet.”

  “She’s probably drowning her sorrows with a Bloody Mary or mimosa.” He shrugged. “Either that, or she’s stuck downstairs listening to Daddy dearest lecturing her about her ‘unladylike’ swearing and making a scene. Did you see the look on his face when she told you to choke on my dick? It was priceless!”

  “I shouldn’t have antagonized her as much as I did,” I said with a frown. When Olivia revealed she was selling Rhys’s house to move him to the other side of the country, it brought out the petty, possessive side of me. After three years of her making my best friend miserable, getting payback was gratifying, even if it meant I was an asshole.

  Rhys shook his head. “No, you were amazing! It was an epic takedown.” His expression turned serious. “I didn’t realize you were so mad at her about everything.”

  “Neither did I,” I admitted. My frustrations with Olivia had been there from the start of their relationship. It wasn’t until the fight at breakfast that I understood how much I had repressed in the interest of not causing a rift with Rhys. I had been doing that a lot more than I realized.

  “I should have listened to you before.” He sighed. “You told me from the beginning that being with her was a bad idea.”

  “You deserve someone who loves you for you and isn’t with you because you’re a Huntington with money.”

  He stated, “I’ve only had that with one person before.”

  I pushed my glasses higher up on the bridge of my nose as I reflected on the ridiculously lengthy list of women Rhys had dated. The only ex-girlfriend I remembered who hadn’t cared about him being a Huntington had never claimed to love him, but it was the closest guess I had. “Miranda?”

  He laughed. “I was referring to you, actually.”

  When our eyes met, breathing became a challenge. There were no words to defend myself or deny the claim. I stared at him like an idiot instead.

  “Unless you were bullshitting downstairs?” Rhys added.

  While I appreciated him giving me an out, when I saw his guarded vulnerability, it gave me the courage to admit, “Of course not.”

  “This is the part where I’m supposed to laugh it off and say, ‘Just kidding,’ but I don’t want to,” he confessed, dropping his gaze. “I felt invincible at breakfast, because I knew you were there for me.”

  “I always have and always will be.”

  Rhys toyed with the fabric of his jeans. “That’s why I got so upset in the elevator.”

  The connection between the two things puzzled me. “I thought you freaked out over going down for breakfast?”

  “No, I was scared I would lose your friendship over my fuckup.” He still couldn’t bring himself to look at me. “I feared you wouldn’t forgive me for tricking you into marrying me so I wouldn’t have to be with Olivia anymore.”

  “There were definitely easier ways to call off the wedding,” I joked, trying to cheer him up. “But I meant it when I said I’m not mad at you. I have responsibility for this, too. You couldn’t have married me if I had said no.”

  My words seemed to upset him more. “But that’s the problem. You’re too nice to tell me no, and I took advantage of that. I’m the worst!”

  He was correct; in the history of our friendship, I rarely put my foot down and denied him anything. However, I knew that wasn’t what had happened. As he berated himself for what we did, my instinctual need to protect him asserted itself. Since he was hell-bent and determined to blame himself for the marriage, I had to fess up to the truth. “Rhys, I said yes because I wanted to. It had nothing to do with me not wanting to tell you no.”

  “What do you mean?”

  It was humiliating to explain, “If you married me, you couldn’t marry Olivia. I consented because I didn’t want to lose you. Not to her, not to anyone.”

  “Oh,” Rhys breathed in shock.

  We sat in silence, both of us reeling from my confession.

  The digital lock beeping in error broke the moment. It sounded a second time, causing Olivia to growl, “What the hell?” She tried a third and fourth time before she rattled the handle. “Let me in!”

  “Sounds like someone’s still mad,” he joked in a hushed overtone.

  I sarcastically retorted, “I can’t imagine why.”

  After another failed attempt at entering, she kicked the door with frustration. “I swear to god, if you cocksuckers stole my room, you’re dead!”

  Rhys’s lips curled into a playful smile, before he shouted in ecstasy, “Oh, Luci! Yes!”

  It took an effort to smother my laughter over his vindictive streak kicking in such a childish manner. Two could play that game, so I followed his lead. “You like that?”

  He wantonly cried out, “So much!”

  She pounded on the door, yelling at us. “I’ll cut both of your dicks off!”

  “Let me hear how much,” I taunted Rhys, amused we were pissing off Olivia even more.

  I had expected him to make fake sex noises, but in true Rhys fashion, he pushed it to the extreme. Instead of merely making sounds, he put on a show as if she could somehow see it. His back arched up as he moaned as if he was having the best sex of his life. It was so realistic that I was rock hard in an instant. Watching his orgasmic expressions while he writhed made me ache to take over for real—especially once I noticed he also had an erection.

  “Fuck, you feel so good!” I growled, resisting the urge to touch myself through my jeans.

  Olivia slammed both of her fists against the door. “Stop it, you sick fucks!”

  “I’m so close,” Rhys whimpered, before he ramped up his moans to a fevered pitch. “Luci, please!”

  His erotic performance would haunt me forever. His parted lips triggered memories of kissing them. I longed to cover his mouth with mine and delve deep for another taste of his passion. More than that, I ached to press
my body against his as we consummated our marriage.

  Unable to stop the game, I commanded in a dark rumble, “Come for me, Rhys!”

  His lithe body jerked as he shouted my name. I damn near came from the sight of him calling out to me in his very convincing fake orgasm. The primal part of my brain yearned to pin him down so we could continue. Him looking freshly fucked an in need of ravishing tested my willpower. I didn’t dare move, too fearful I would trigger my climax.

  The experience forced me to acknowledge I was as hard as a diamond and ready to fuck my best friend. I needed him to moan my name again as I made him come undone, and not just as a game to piss off his ex. I longed to kiss and caress him in a way that was anything but platonic.

  That’s when I realized, “Uh, I think she left.”

  Rhys grinned as he ruffled his hair. “Well, that was fun.”

  “I guess that’s one word for it,” I muttered, finding it disconcerting we were both still aroused. What did it mean that Rhys had gotten hard while pretending I was fucking him? What did it mean that I did? He pulled me from my musing when he started laughing. “What?”

  He stretched, forcing me to notice his body. “I can’t believe fake fucking you was better than fucking her for real.”

  “Seriously?” I asked, arching an eyebrow at the claim.

  “Let’s just say I haven’t enjoyed sex that much in a very long time,” Rhys replied. “My guess is she went downstairs to the concierge to convince them to let her in here. She’ll be back up here to yell at us again when they refuse. Want to get out of here for a while?”

  I was ready to agree to anything that meant I wouldn’t have to address the realizations he had cursed me with. “Sure.”

  “I’ll use the master bathroom if you want to use that one.”

  The instant he was out of the room, I bolted for the bathroom. I braced myself against the wall for support, then yanked my pants down to take my hardness in hand. Desperate for relief, I roughly jerked off to the memory of Rhys undulating on the couch. I took it a step further by imagining him masturbating in my fantasy. The knowledge that he was probably doing the same thing right now pushed me to the edge of desire. I whimpered his name as I orgasmed.