Boyfriend Chronicles 02 - The Boyfriend Mandate (15 page)

“Press down,” Tyler said.

“Okay.” He did as instructed, struggling to keep a straight face. “Are you going to check my pecker next?”

Tyler shot him look. “No.”

“Isn’t there a reflex down around there that’s important? The creamer or something? God, what a freaking perfect name.”

“The cremasteric reflex involves the testicles,” Tyler corrected. “And no, I’m not checking it.”

Memphis let out a melodramatic sigh of disappointment and was rewarded with what looked like an aborted eye roll from his ex-boyfriend. Tyler repeated the process with Memphis’s right foot, and he followed the instructions like a dutiful patient.

When Tyler released his foot, Memphis spoke, his tone containing zero concern. “Am I okay?”

“That’s debatable,” he deadpanned. “And probably depends on who you ask.”

Memphis grinned. He loved the way today’s Tyler gave him shit.

Tyler leaned forward to place his penlight on the shelf of the headboard. “And I imagine you being ‘okay’ will always be up for debate,” he finished.

Seemingly satisfied, he went to straighten, and Memphis had no idea what came over him. Maybe it was the sight of his ex-boyfriend in a tie. Maybe it was the way Tyler teased him at two o’clock in the morning. Or maybe it was the fact that the man who Memphis had left all those years ago, who probably
still
secretly hated his guts, had slept in a chair by his bed, just in case he’d needed him.

Either way, when Tyler went to straighten, presumably to go, suddenly the thought of him leaving was completely unacceptable.

So Memphis reached out and grabbed the tie, preventing Tyler’s retreat. “I’ve decided on my question,” he murmured.

“Question?” he asked, staring blankly down at him, his face only two feet away.

“In return for my cooperation,” he said.

Tyler looked as if he were about to protest.

“You used to be a total nelly bottom,” Memphis continued.

Tyler appeared to stop breathing. Memphis tipped his head curiously, scanning the gray eyes and the impassive expression on his face as he went on.

“Are you still one?” Memphis asked.

A muscle in his cheek bunched. “That’s a ridiculous question.”

Tyler tried to pull away from his grasp, so Memphis wrapped the tie around his hand, getting a firmer hold. The action brought the thickly fringed eyes a little closer, and Tyler braced himself against the bed. Warm breath washed across Memphis’s cheek and hit his neck, goose bumps popping up in response.

“A ridiculous question? Maybe,” Memphis said, his voice growing lower. “And maybe not.” Something about the tension in Tyler’s shoulders, the rigid set to his back, told him he’d hit pay dirt with his question. “But our deal didn’t include any conditions.”

One hand on either side of Memphis’s head, his body hovering like a promise even as his posture spoke of nothing but refusal, Tyler turned his gaze to the dark beyond the window.

“I prefer to top now,” he said.

Heat and nerves and lust shot down Memphis’s stomach and seized his groin in a chokehold.

Fuck me
.

Literally, he hoped.

He’d been in a monogamous relationship with Julissa for five years, and during that time, he’d never really felt a sense of missing out. He’d loved his wife and had worked hard to save the marriage until it had become painfully clear there was no saving to be done. After his divorce, he’d been attracted to a few men, but each time the attraction had been easy to ignore—an afterthought in an
isn’t that interesting?
kind of way.

With one statement from Tyler, Memphis’s vague sense of desire had turned into an explicitly detailed fantasy involving his ex-boyfriend and something Memphis had never experienced, with anyone.

I prefer to top now
.

“I just bet you do,” Memphis said, the words rough.

And holy hell. The brief flare of Tyler’s lids turned Memphis on even more, the tiny response giving the man’s thoughts away before being quickly shut down, replaced by an expression of…well, a composure that looked a little frayed at the edges.

Memphis couldn’t help it. A smile slid up his face.

“You,” he said, “and that newly acquired calm, cool, and collected look? And that insanely hot, take-control attitude?” He locked his gaze onto Tyler’s. “That’s something I’d like to experience.”

For a moment, Tyler sounded like a lifelong chain smoker. “Experience?”

“Yeah.” His grin grew wider at the husky sound of Tyler’s voice. “As in, be on the
receiving
end of.”

Tyler’s expression shifted ever so slightly, and Memphis realized the guy was clenching his jaw again.

“I’m not going to fuck you, Memphis,” he said.

The challenge hit his nervous system so hard that Memphis let out a loud laugh. Nothing lit his fire like telling him no.

After chemo, there’s no way you can make the soccer team your freshman year.

Your odds of surviving the cancer recurrence are slim
.

I’m not going to fuck you, Memphis.

His head filled with a vision of Tyler doing exactly that, the colorless gaze burning into him as the man took control in bed. Way back when, Memphis had loved calling the shots, because, at the time, he’d still been questioning his masculinity minus one nut. Little had he known what a freaking waste of worry
that
would be. Now he longed to see what the new-and-improved Tyler would be like.

Tyler straightened. “Go back to sleep. You must be exhausted.”

If not for the distant thumping in his head, Memphis would have scoffed in protest at the professional tone. He preferred the chain-smoker voice to the
take two aspirin and call me in the morning
one. And as he watched Tyler head out of the bedroom, he felt a strange sense of…loss.

Loss
.

Why the hell was he doing this to himself? He should walk away and leave the Tyler issue be. But a part of him just couldn’t let go. He didn’t deserve Tyler’s time and consideration, but he wanted it anyway.

The more time he spent in Tyler’s presence, the more he wanted from him. Like experiencing the adult Tyler and all he had to offer, that body toned by the marathon miles he ran weekly. Memphis longed to discover how to break down the uber-calm gaze that seemed to own him every time Tyler looked his way.

At the current rate, that look was going to drive Memphis to the fucking funny farm.

He rolled over and punched his pillow until it made a mound. Both heads throbbing, but for different reasons, he buried his face in the downy pile.

Despite his fatigue, sleep would be a long time in coming. So he might as well use the time devising a plan to get Tyler to change his mind…

Tyler woke up on Noah’s futon, tired after a sketchy night’s sleep. Checking in on Memphis every two hours had been
rough
.

No one should be forced to assess the man while he wore nothing but tight skivvies and a boxer-shorts-melting smile. Even worse? His unforgettable words.

Your take-control attitude? I’d like to experience that
.

A vision popped into Tyler’s brain, a vision of Memphis bent before him and looking over his shoulder with heat in his eyes, a cocky smile on his lips, and a goading tone clearly designed to get Tyler to “bring it.”

The powerful surge of want nearly nuked Tyler’s brain.

He couldn’t imagine Memphis and all that energy under his control any more than he could imagine attaching himself to a rocket and trying to steer it through sheer will alone. Fucking his ex-boyfriend was out of the question anyway. And he wasn’t just referring to his new dating rule. Tyler couldn’t afford to want him. He wouldn’t allow himself to fall for Memphis again and then watch the guy take off, only to be left waiting for him to return…

Tyler’s stomach rolled.

He couldn’t live that way ever again, endlessly hoping for something that never came to pass.

Eyes closed, Tyler massaged his scalp and focused on a relaxing image, essentially any image that didn’t contain Memphis. He cleared his mind—aiming for focus, calm,
clarity
—concentrating on deep breathing as his heart rate recovered and the tension left his body.

Fifteen minutes later, he finally felt capable of facing Memphis over the breakfast table, and Tyler rolled off the futon. Before getting ready for work, he’d go for his morning jog. Sticking to his routine would go a long way toward keeping himself in check.

As he entered the living room, voices drifted up the hallway. One belonged to Noah, but the other was a woman. Curious, Tyler slowed his footsteps as he rounded the doorway and then stopped, staring into the kitchen.

Sonofabitch
.

Sitting at the center island was Memphis’s ex-wife, Julissa. Tyler’s attempt at a zen-like state took a major step backwards.

Years ago, when he’d learned that Memphis had gotten engaged, Tyler had allowed himself one glance at the announcement and photo of the happy couple before chucking the paper into the trash. Now he realized his long-ago glimpse at the picture hadn’t done the stunning woman justice. High cheekbones, sloe eyes, and a café con leche complexion lent her an exotic look and spoke of a mixed heritage with, he suspected, a hefty dose of Hispanic roots. Her long, black hair was smoothed back into a ponytail. Her pants and blouse were professional yet casual enough for a laid-back LA style.

Noah began grinding beans in a coffee grinder, his back to Tyler, when she caught Tyler’s eye.

“Hi, I’m Julissa.” She stood and stuck out her hand, raising her voice to be heard over the noise. “Memphis’s pain-in-the-ass business manager, publicist, and ex-wife,” she said, a welcoming smile on her face.

Well,
that
wasn’t the greeting he’d been expecting. He hadn’t thought she’d be so…nice.

Stumped, Tyler stared at her for a second, until he realized she had no idea who he was. The picture of him in the paper had mostly focused on his body during his morning run. Apparently, Memphis had never shared any old photos of them, either.

Christ, why did that make him feel so insignificant?

He sent Julissa a polite smile as he stepped forward and returned her handshake, noting how soft her skin felt. “I’m Noah’s friend and Memphis’s pain-in-the-ass ex-boyfriend,” he said over the noise. The grinder suddenly stopped, leaving the smell of freshly ground coffee in the air and his next words too loud. “Tyler Hall.”

One beat passed before Julissa released his palm, looking shocked. “Oh…shit.”

His lips twisted wryly and he huffed in amusement. “Exactly.”

She scanned his wrinkled T-shirt and rumpled hair, clearly deducing he’d just rolled out of bed. “I assumed you were Noah’s boyfriend.”

A stunned silence was followed by a howl of laughter from Noah, and Tyler resisted the urge to roll his eyes at his friend. Julissa continued to stare at Tyler, and as the moment lengthened, he shifted on his feet, trying to relieve a little of the tension in his posture. Was she bothered by the fact that Memphis had slept under the same roof as his ex-boyfriend? And if so, what did that say about her relationship with Memphis?

None of your business, Tyler
.

He wasn’t sure if his friend noticed the crackle in the air or if he’d suddenly decided to join the conversation. Either way, Noah’s laughter finally dwindled to the occasional chuckle.

“I’m sorry, Julissa,” Noah said, clearing his throat of the residual humor. “While my friend here is a dedicated physician and a real humanitarian, unfortunately”—Noah smoothed a hand down his T-shirt that read
I want to be your bottom line
—“he’s way too gay for my usual one-night stand.”

The pause was loud without the sound of the grinder.

She narrowed her eyes. “I’m confused.”

Tyler bit back a smile. “Noah has that effect on people.”

“I thought you were gay?” Julissa said to Noah.

“Flaming,” he replied with a wave of his hand. “But when choosing a hookup from among the many esteemed members of our LGBTQ community, I prefer to help those men who fall under the letter Q for questioning.”

“Yes,” Tyler said dryly. “It’s Noah’s version of humanitarianism.”

Julissa stared at Tyler, and the awkward pause grew more uncomfortable.

“You look like you didn’t sleep a wink, Tyler,” Noah said. “Which I don’t understand, because the crazy stuntman is the one who suffered the concussion.”

Julissa whipped her head in Noah’s direction. “What?”

“He didn’t tell you the part about getting too close to an explosion yesterday?” Noah said as he set out to make the coffee. “The overly dedicated Dr. Hall had to drag Memphis back here because the man refused to go to the ER.”

She dropped back into her seat.

“
Ay dios mio
,” she murmured, confirming the Hispanic roots. “I called Memphis last night because I need him to sign some papers today.” She waved her hand at a briefcase sitting next to her feet. “He told me he was staying at Noah’s for the night, but he conveniently didn’t mention why. Or the head injury,” she said with a scowl that was more worry than anger. “I’m going to kill him.”

“I think he’s doing a fine job of that all by himself,” Tyler said.

Still wearing an uneasy frown, she muttered to herself using a few words in Spanish that Tyler didn’t understand, and he spent several seconds contemplating the fact that Julissa clearly still cared about Memphis.

The need to move was overwhelming, and preparing his breakfast was the perfect excuse. He pulled spinach and almond milk from the refrigerator. As he added the ingredients to Noah’s high-end blender, he hoped the noise wouldn’t reach the guest bedroom. Or had the grinder already woken Memphis up?

“Is Memphis awake yet?” he asked.

“He’s not here,” Noah said. “He took off really early.”

Gone? He was already
gone
…?

Julissa looked as surprised as Tyler.

He took a moment to adjust to the news, and then he turned to Julissa. “Did he have someplace he had to be?”

“No, although I
had
hoped to catch him here this morning before he dashed out the door,” she said with a sigh. “I guess I’ll have to pin him down this afternoon.”