Operation Makeover

by D. J. Jamison

  “Okay,” Ridley said behind him.

  Cole turned and ran his gaze over the bashful guy mostly naked in his bedroom. Yum. Ridley was a pleasant surprise. From the way he dressed, Cole had expected a rail-thin frame, but there was a little muscle tone there. His upper arms had defined biceps. He had no definition to his abs, but he had the most delicious dark chest hair narrowing to a thin trail over his stomach and under his boxer briefs.

  Ridley cleared his throat, and Cole jerked his gaze up. “This is good. This gives me a much better idea of what you’re working with.”

  Raising one hand, Ridley clasped his fingers around his opposite arm in a self-conscious gesture. “I don’t see why you couldn’t tell with my clothes on.”

  Cole approached cautiously and settled his hands on Ridley’s shoulders. “You dress in loose shirts, and it hides the breadth of these shoulders.” Cole squeezed Ridley’s upper arms. “You have some nice muscle here, which tells me we could work in some tighter T-shirts, and you’ll look sexy.”

  “That’s pushing it,” Ridley muttered.

  Cole slapped his arm. “Stop putting yourself down. You’ve got a good bod here. Now, we just need to accent it appropriately. Turn around.”

  Ridley turned without comment, and Cole dropped his gaze. Oh, heck yeah, Ridley had some decent buns. His legs were a tad on the thin side, which worked great with skinny jeans and tight slacks, but awful with shorts. But that was okay. They could work with that.

  “You’re staring at my ass, aren’t you?” Ridley asked in a defeated voice.

  “I sure am,” Cole said gleefully. He leaned in to murmur, “I’m liking it too.”

  Ridley’s breath caught, and his body tensed. Cole backed off. Sometimes his inner flirt got out of hand. “You can get dressed, but put on this shirt,” he said, pushing the peach button-down at Ridley.

  “Looks small.”

  “Yeah, but I want to get an idea of color and style. You have a different skin tone than me, so I’m trying to get an idea of what looks best on you. You don’t have to button it all the way if it’s too tight.”

  Cole busied himself in the closet until Ridley was dressed. The shirt strained over his shoulders and was too tight in the chest, but it buttoned, and damn did it cling to his contours just right.

  “That looks good,” he said, then wrinkled his nose. “Maybe not this color. I’m feeling more blues and greens for your skin tone. Maybe some lavender.”

  Cole closed his closet door so Ridley could see his reflection. He moved closer. “It won’t be this tight when we buy it?”

  “Not quite,” Cole agreed. “But you want to show off your form. Jason won’t know what he’s been thinking all these years.”

  “Jace,” Ridley corrected. “It’s not a nickname. That’s his full name.”

  “Okay,” Cole said. “Jace. He’ll see you and go, ‘Wow, Ridley has a nice pair of shoulders.’”

  Ridley snorted. “If you say so.”

  “I am the expert here.”

  Ridley smiled, and this close up it completely charmed Cole, so much so he lost track of the conversation.

  “Cole?”

  “Hmm?”

  “Are we done? Can I put my own shirt on?”

  Cole grabbed up a few other shirts to hold up in front of Ridley. Yep, blues and greens. He grinned, glancing into Ridley’s brown eyes. “Yep, we’re good. Get dressed. I’ll wait for you in the living room.”

  Cole left him to get dressed, and Ridley probably set a land-speed record in covering his skin. His face still burned with embarrassment. He’d regretted every pizza delivery and bag of Doritos as Cole looked at his body. If it weren’t for the basketball games he played with some hospital staffers and Jace dragging him out hiking every now and then, he’d probably be overweight. As it was, he was just average. His stomach was soft, not hard and rippling like Jace’s. And he hadn’t been naked in front of a guy in a long time, much less a guy of Cole’s caliber.

  “You want a beer?” Cole called, and Ridley hurriedly shoved his shoes on and found his way to the kitchen. It was attached to the living room, so it wasn’t hard to find.

  “A beer? Thought you were a wine guy.”

  Cole smiled and shrugged. “We drank wine last time, and you like beer, so ...”

  “You got beer just for me?” Ridley said, surprised. “Thanks.”

  Cole pulled open the refrigerator and bent to look inside.

  Don’t look at his ass. Do. Not.

  His gaze slipped down, though. The curve of Cole’s back led Ridley’s eyes directly to his firm, round—

  “I didn’t know what to get,” Cole admitted as he straightened and turned, a beer in each hand. Ridley jerked his eyes toward a headdress hanging from a hook on the wall and pretended interest. It wasn’t hard; it was interesting to look at the collision of colors and textures.

  “So I got both pale ale and stout. Do you have a preference? Ridley?”

  Ridley turned, feigning surprise. I was so interested in looking over here I couldn’t have possibly noticed your tight jean shorts.

  “Oh. I’ll drink anything,” he said. “But I like pale.”

  Cole handed him the bottle of beer, then took out another for himself. Ridley noticed he had a number of hard lemonades in there as well.

  “If you don’t like beer, you can drink a lemonade.”

  “I can drink beer,” Cole said. “You think I can’t?”

  “Uh, no. I’m sure you can drink whatever you want. Sorry.”

  “Oh, fuck it,” Cole grumbled, shoving the beer back into the refrigerator. He pulled out a hard lemonade. “No use pretending, right? I’m here, I’m queer, and I like fruity drinks, not beer.”

  Cole handed him a bottle opener, taking a big gulp of his drink while Ridley pried off his beer cap.

  “Let’s sit down,” Cole said, leading the way back to the living room.

  Cole moved the crafting supplies to the armchair, so they could both sit on the sofa. It made Ridley feel a little better about the state of his living room when Cole visited.

  “You okay?” Ridley asked tentatively as Cole continued to frown. “I didn’t mean anything by what I said. I just saw the lemonades.”

  Last thing he wanted was to piss off the guy helping him. He’d have no idea where to start if Cole decided he wasn’t worth the trouble.

  Cole sighed. “No, it’s not you. I’m in a mood because of my ex.”

  “Oh?”

  “He’s an asshole.” Cole gave a brittle smile. “They all are. Anita says I need to date a nice guy.”

  “Is she right?”

  “Unfortunately,” Cole said. “I let guys get away with too much crap. And I’ve been known to have terrible taste in men, so …” He shrugged. “In my defense, nice guys are hard to find.”

  Ridley sipped his beer while he searched for a response. It was hard to imagine someone as attractive as Cole having boyfriend trouble. He’d think anyone would feel lucky to be dating him. And Cole wasn’t only gorgeous; he seemed really nice too.

  “At least you’re getting out there and trying,” Ridley said. “That’s more than I can say.”

  “You go out with friends, don’t you?”

  Ridley shrugged. “Just for a drink. Nothing exciting.”

  “Well, we have to fix that!” Cole said, perking up. “We should go dancing.”

  “What? No. Besides, you saw my clothes. I have nothing to wear out.”

  “You can wear something of mine!”

  “No way,” Ridley said with a laugh. “Your clothes would be skintight.”

  Cole smiled slowly. “That’s the point, handsome.”

  Ridley leaned back, suddenly realizing how close Cole was. There was barely an inch between their bodies. “Raincheck.”

  Cole chuckled, straightening in his seat and taking a swig of the hard lemonade. “Fine, we can save clubbing until after we get you a new wardrobe.”

  “That sounds good,” Ridley said
. Not entirely true. Dancing didn’t sound good in general, but waiting until he had new clothes would give him some time to convince Cole of that.

  “But we will go,” Cole said sternly as if he knew Ridley’s thoughts. “I need a fun night out, and you need to shake off some of the rust. If you want Jace to see you, might as well practice drawing attention, right?”

  “Um.”

  “Just agree with me. It’s easier, sweetie.”

  Ridley chuckled. “Okay. After we get clothes, we can go out. But I really am not graceful. I’ll embarrass myself if you make me dance.”

  “You have to dance,” Cole insisted. “I’ll make sure you look good doing it.”

  Ridley took another drink of his beer, then changed the subject. “You want to talk about your ex?”

  “Nah. He’s a jerk,” Cole said. “He never gave me what I needed, but he doesn’t want to let go.”

  “He’s not ... harassing you?”

  Cole’s eyes widened. “No. No! Oh my gosh, I made it sound bad, didn’t I? No, he’s sent a couple of texts is all. But he’s married.”

  “Oh, damn. That’s…”

  “I didn’t know he had a wife,” Cole said quickly. “But now that I do, he’s a little paranoid that I’m going to blow his cover.”

  Ridley frowned. “He lied to you about being married? What a dick.”

  “I know, right?” Cole said, rolling his eyes. “I was so stupid to be so trusting.” He drank down the last of his lemonade and sighed. “I’m getting another. You want a second beer?”

  “No thanks. I can’t stay much longer. I’ve got an early shift tomorrow.”

  Cole made a pouty face. “But you just got here.”

  Warmth washed through Ridley, as it so often did when Cole flirted with him. It didn’t mean anything, but it was a nice feeling. A feeling he’d missed during his self-imposed celibacy. One upside to putting it all on the line with Jace: it meant moving forward, one way or another. If Jace shot him down, Ridley wasn’t going to put his life on pause any longer. He was lonely and horny.

  Cole returned with his drink and dropped onto the sofa beside Ridley. “You really have to go?”

  “I do,” Ridley said regretfully. Despite Cole seeming a bit melancholy, he was still good company. “When should we go do this shopping? Saturday?”

  Cole frowned. “I’ve volunteered to keep the LGBT Center open Saturday. That’s the day most the teens come by and hang out, and I’m going to be doing some arts and crafts with them. And offering hairstyling tips,” he said with a chuckle. “That’s a given.”

  “Shoot,” Ridley said. “I’m working weird shifts all week, so I don’t think I’ll have time to go in the evening.”

  “Hmm. Most places are closed Sunday,” Cole said. “Maybe we can try for the following Saturday?”

  “Yeah,” Ridley said with a sigh. “Jace has already seen my hair, and he didn’t profess his undying love. Maybe I should just call the whole thing off. I’m wasting your time.”

  “You’re not wasting my time,” Cole objected. “And I know you didn’t strip down for my benefit tonight, as much as I might have enjoyed it.”

  Ridley snorted. “Don’t remind me.”

  “So?”

  “I don’t know, Cole,” Ridley said. “I’m going to look like a fake. I mean, I’m a T-shirt and jeans guy. So is Jace, for that matter. I don’t know who I’m trying to kid.”

  Cole sat down his bottle. “That was the whole point of looking at your clothes, Ridley. I don’t want to change you into some faux fashion model. Jeans and a T-shirt can be a really good look when it’s the right fit and style.”

  Ridley cast him a skeptical look.

  Cole stood up. “Just give me a minute. I’ll show you.”

  Ridley waited nervously, unsure what Cole had in store for him now. He really was beginning to doubt his entire Ridley 2.0 plan. Ridley 1.0 was pretty set in his ways, and like a stubborn virus, he didn’t want to go.

  A few minutes later Cole strode into the room looking like a different person. He’d styled his hair differently, so that it flopped off to the side. He’d dressed in distressed jeans that clung to his long legs, a white T-shirt, and a sports jacket. And somehow, with only a jacket added to his jeans and plain T-shirt, he looked sophisticated and sexy.

  He strode across the room, stopped and cocked a hip playfully, then turned and strode the other way. When he spun back toward Ridley, he blew him a kiss before breaking into a grin.

  “You see?”

  “You look great,” Ridley said. “But those clothes. Once they’re on me—”

  “On you, this kind of outfit would be super hot,” Cole interrupted enthusiastically. “Please, Ridley, give it a chance. I really want you to try.”

  Ridley quirked a brow. “Why?”

  “Not for Jace,” Cole said. “For you. So you see what I see when I look at you.”

  “And what’s that?”

  “A cute guy with a great ass,” Cole said bluntly.

  Ridley laughed. “Oh, man.”

  “I’m serious. Don’t make it all about Jace. Make it about you. Think about what you want, and then call me. We’ve got a week until our schedules line up, so you’ll have plenty of time to drive yourself crazy.”

  “It’s like you know me or something.”

  “I’m starting to,” Cole said. “Oh! That reminds me. You should come to the LGBT Center this Saturday. The teens could always use more positive role models.”

  “Oh, no. I doubt I’m a teenager’s idea of anything special.”

  “You’d be surprised. Besides, you can keep me company,” he said, batting his eyes. “It’s for a good cause. Please?”

  How could Ridley refuse that smile and pleading pair of eyes? Cole had already given up two evenings for Ridley. Returning the favor was the least he could do.

  “Okay, sure. I don’t have plans.”

  “Yay!” Cole clapped his hands. “It’ll be fun. You’ll see.”

  11

  Cole was elbow-deep in crepe paper when Ridley showed up. The teens were making a mix of crafts that they could potentially sell to raise money for an LGBT-themed dance, similar to prom, where same-sex couples could be together without any fear. Cole planned to contribute a couple of headdresses to the cause.

  Cole put down the basket he was wrapping in fall colors. “Hey, you made it!”

  Ridley paused inside the door as every teenager swiveled to stare at him. He smiled and lifted a hand. “Hi.”

  There was a chorus of greetings, and the teens turned back to their projects. Miss Cherry Topping, otherwise known as Theo when not in drag, nudged Cole. “New boyfriend?”

  “No,” Cole said quietly, hoping there weren’t too many eavesdroppers and knowing it was hopeless. Teens were gonna teen. “He’s a friend.”

  “Sure he is,” Lynn said. “I totally buy that. Especially the way he’s eating you up with his eyes.”

  Cole shushed her as Ridley approached. Ridley might consider him attractive objectively, but that’s as far as it went. Ridley wasn’t interested or available. Not with his fixation on Jace.

  “So, what can I do?” Ridley asked as he reached the table and surveyed the supplies.

  Cherry pushed back her chair and stood. Today, she wore a red wig and a modest floral-print dress, nothing too overtly sexy around the kids. She hadn’t yet performed in a show, but she was gearing up for her first stage appearance, and Cole was proud of how brave she was becoming.

  “Why don’t you take over for me?” she said to Ridley. “I have to run to the little girls’ room.”

  Ridley glanced at the autumn-themed wreath Cherry had started, with silk fall leaves, pumpkins, and little sunflowers. “Okay.”

  She scurried off, and Cole wasn’t fooled. Cherry had set it up for Ridley to sit beside Cole, so she could study their interactions and grill Cole later. But Cole didn’t mind because he wanted to sit by Ridley. He’d invited him to volunteer because he believ
ed in the work the LGBT Center did, especially for the community’s young people, but he also thought it’d be nice to spend time with Ridley.

  Ridley sat down beside him, picking up a glue gun. “So just glue this stuff on?”

  Cole opened his mouth, but Miles beat him to it. “I can show you,” the sixteen-year-old said hurriedly. “It’s really easy, and I bet you’re good with your hands.”

  Ridley looked startled by the boy’s enthusiasm, and Cole had to bite down on an inappropriate smile. There was absolutely no fraternizing with the teenagers. But that didn’t stop them from developing crushes. Whenever Cole sensed someone growing a little too interested in him, he brought a boyfriend to the center to dissuade any inappropriate feelings. Maybe he should claim Ridley, just to head off trouble?

  But Miles had already given Ridley a demonstration on the glue gun and was withdrawing, his cheeks red. “So, that’s all there is to it.”

  “Seems easy enough,” Ridley said with a smile. “Thanks.”

  “Let me know if you need any help. I’ll just be at the other end of the table,” Miles said, glancing down at the floor.

  “I think I’ve got it. And something tells me Cole is a pro.”

  “I’ve got it covered,” Cole agreed. “Thanks, Miles. I’m sure Ridley appreciated the tip.”

  Lynn snickered at his other side, and Cole elbowed her. “Hush up and be nice.”

  She mimed zipping her lip, and Cole turned his attention to Ridley.

  “Not here two minutes, and you’re already turning heads.”

  Ridley snorted. “Uh, sorry?”

  Cole grinned. “I suppose you can’t help it if you’re too cute for your own good.”

  “Somebody’s got a crush,” Lynn singsonged. Cole was about to scold her for teasing Miles when he realized she meant him.

  And worse, she was right.

  Cole grabbed the remote from a teenaged girl with shoulder-length blonde hair and makeup applied a little too enthusiastically.