The Backup Boyfriend (The Boyfriend Chronicles) (8 page)

Dylan used to be a street kid
?

Mute, Alec stared at the hint of a grin on Dylan’s lips.

Logan managed to clarify the question on Alec’s mind. “You were homeless?”

“Yep.”

Alec struggled to process the news. In fact, the nonchalantly delivered admission had clearly caught the entire group off guard. Tyler’s face looked blanker than usual as he remained silent, as if the information didn’t compute. Or maybe he simply couldn’t understand Dylan’s cheerful delivery. Tyler hardly ever lost his cool. Alec had spent two years admiring his composure in the face of adversity. And Dylan appeared to be enjoying Tyler’s expression. Obviously Dylan still considered Alec’s ex-boyfriend a challenge.

Logan interrupted Alec’s thoughts. “That must have been tough, Dylan.”

Dylan hiked a shoulder. “Got my GED, some technical training, and then on-the-job experience before opening my own shop restoring vintage motorcycles.”

“My brother and I are hardcore Ducati fans,” Logan said. “Tyler and I met when Steve wrecked his bike and Tyler stopped to help.”

“I’m curious…” Tyler flicked his gaze to Dylan. “How did you meet Alec?”

Alec’s chest froze. Tyler knew.

His ex definitely knew Alec and Dylan were faking.

Alec could tell by the look on Tyler’s face. Those coolly assessing eyes landed on Dylan’s palm cupping the base of Alec’s neck, and an uncomfortable heat flooded his stomach. A gentle squeeze of Dylan’s fingers followed, mostly likely meant to be reassuring, but the pressure created all sorts of images of those hands closing around other areas of Alec’s body.

Concentrate on Tyler, not the hand at your neck
.

“Dylan’s been helping me get the Harley into shape,” Alec said.

Tyler held Alec’s gaze. “About time you developed an interest outside of work.”

And defeating Proposition 8,
Tyler didn’t add, probably because they’d had that debate a number of times before.

“I’ve been trying to convince you of that for over a year,” Tyler went on.

Alec refused to let Tyler claim any ownership over the decision to buy the Harley. “You also spent two years trying to get me to accompany you on your daily run, partake of your morning spinach smoothie routine, and commit to an organic, vegetarian diet,” Alec said drily.

“You didn’t take me up on any of those ideas either.”

“Maybe I just needed the right incentive,” Alec said.

“Namely, me.” The cocky smile that slipped up Dylan’s face should have been a warning. “Although…”

The look Dylan sent Alec set him on edge.

Dylan continued, gaze lit with amusement. “I had a devil of a time getting this relationship kick started.”

Alec repressed the urge to roll his eyes, his lips twisting wryly instead. “It was the sex swing that finally sold me.”

Dylan tipped back his head and laughed while Alec admired the smooth skin of his neck, the faint stubble on his jaw. Christ, he really was gorgeous.

“And yet,” Tyler murmured, “you two seem like such an unlikely pair.”

Obviously annoyed by the continued challenge in Tyler’s tone, Dylan narrowed his eyes, and Alec’s stomach grew tight. Oh God. This wouldn’t end well.

“That’s funny.” Dylan crossed his arms, his voice so low only the four men could hear. “Cuz ever since Alec and I met we’ve been fucking like Energizer bunnies on Viagra.”

Alec almost choked on his tongue. “Excuse us.”

He gripped Dylan’s elbow, dragging him to the far end of the room, weaving through the crowd as he went. Once they reached the other side of the living room, and safety, Alec leaned against the wall.

“You really don’t know when to shut up, do you?” Alec said wearily.

“I told you,” Dylan said. “It’s a gift.”

Alec let out a humorless bark of laughter. He supposed he should be grateful Dylan had behaved for so long. And Alec couldn’t decide which was worse, Dylan’s mouth, the fact that Tyler saw through their facade, or the effect Dylan’s presence had on Alec’s body. Alec absently watched his ex lean over to whisper in Logan’s ear.

“Dude,” Dylan muttered, stepping too close for comfort.

The man’s hand settled in the small of Alec’s back, and Alec’s nervous system went berserk, snapping and sparking to life. He could practically smell the electrical fire. Christ, clearly Dylan’s presence constituted the bigger problem here.

Dylan’s forehead crinkled with concern. “Are you still hung up on Tyler?”

Alec rubbed his brow, trying to ignore Dylan’s palm along the base of his spine. “No.”

Dylan shifted another hair-raising step forward. “Then what’s wrong?”

You’re standing way
.
Too
.

Close.

With monumental effort, Alec wrestled his biggest concern into a mental lockbox and met Dylan’s gaze, which brought to mind The Look. Unfortunately that meant problems number two through ten fell from Alec’s lips unchecked.

“Everyone here knows Tyler and I still run the clinic together,” Alec said, trying to ignore Dylan’s scent. What was that delicious smell anyway? “Most of these people are friends or donors. Some are both.” And while Tyler’s presence had at one time turned Alec into a mute fool, apparently Dylan’s proximity left him with a severe case of verbal diarrhea. “And they help keep the Front Street Clinic’s doors open, but they’re a little too interested in our breakup. I mean,
way
too interested. Did you see the people staring at us?”

“Alec—”

“It’s like being placed under a microscope.”

Dylan’s fingers began a soothing rub, sending seductive signals Alec knew were false, but his brain short-circuited anyway, his voice climbing an octave.

“Everyone is waiting for my reaction,” Alec went on, the words stumbling out. “Probably hoping for me to break down. And I
know
he knows we’re lying, Dylan. I can —”

“Stop,” Dylan said, stepping close enough to kiss.

~~~***~~~

Alec seemed incapable of stopping. All Dylan could do was watch his friend continue, that mouth moving faster and faster, desperation in his voice. Guilt settled beneath Dylan’s breastbone. The blame lay squarely on his shoulders. The whole backup boyfriend had been his idea. Alec had been awesome about facing Tyler tonight, easily holding his own with that wry sense of humor. Until Dylan opened his big, fat mouth.

If Dylan hadn’t insisted on this whole charade, Alec would be handling the party better. The feeling in Dylan’s chest responded, as if on cue, with a little protective twitch of anxiety.

Dylan tuned back in to Alec’s ramblings.

“…I see it in Tyler’s eyes. I can hear it in his tone.” Alec was really worked up now, as if the first few minutes had only been the warmup. “I can feel it in the way he looks at me. I can feel it in the way he looks at
us
.”

Dylan placed his hand on the wall by Alec’s head and leaned in to catch his gaze, trying to block the view of his ex. “Alec, man, you gotta relax—”

Blue eyes wide, Alec looked really agitated now. “And, Christ,” he squeaked out, literally
squeaked,
“what does that make me?”

Jesus, the man was going supernova.

“I’ll tell you what that makes me,” Alec said, that mesmerizing mouth moving faster. “It makes me the ditched, desperate ex-boyfr—”

Dylan did the only thing he could think of. He leaned in and kissed him.

You wanted to know how this felt.

While Dylan told the voice in his head to friggin’ shut the hell up, he realized Alec had gone completely still.

For a few heart-thudding moments, Dylan thought Alec was going to freak out, so Dylan placed his free hand on the man’s chest, confining him against the wall. Hoping to give Alec time to pull himself together. Willing his friend to calm the fuck down.

Keeping his mouth trapped against his
.

Besides, Dylan had come to the party as the boyfriend. No shame in an innocent display of PDA. And when he finally allowed his brain to process the sensations darting around his nervous system, he noted how supple Alec’s lips were. How soft.

Just like he’d imagined.

Oh,
man
…

Their lips locked, and his pulse spiked higher, the incident lasting longer than he’d intended. Dylan had started out with the intent of a simple peck on the lips, just to put an end to Alec’s babbling and hopefully show Tyler a thing or two. And Dylan had been so caught up in congratulating himself on the brilliant idea—two birds, one fucking brilliant stone—he hadn’t considered the repercussions. He’d been too busy to listen to the thoughts whispering in his head, like his need to
know
how Alec tasted.

Jesus, something that he couldn’t
un
know now.

The disturbing thought fled when Alec gripped the edges of Dylan’s jacket and lifted his chin to meet the kiss head-on, shoving the moment from way-better-than-expected to
smokin
’
hot
. The change was entirely too much to process, so Dylan closed his eyes and turned his brain off.

He increased the pressure, and Alec’s lips opened willingly beneath his. The surge of satisfaction had Dylan shifting closer, instinctively tipping his head to seek a better position. First left. And then exploring from the right, gathering more of that mouth with his. A stream of sensations whizzed by like the blur of scenery at high rates of speed. The sensations included heat and moisture and softness, as well as hot, damp breath and the faint taste of a fruity wine.

Enjoying the hard chest beneath his hand, Dylan slid his palm lower, past the flat abdomen and landing on the lean jut of Alec’s hip. Alec let out a tiny whimper, and Dylan just managed not to haul the man closer.

Not a trace of disgust pricked Dylan’s conscious. In fact, his body grew frustrated by the limited contact, so he opened his mouth wider, pressed deep. Alec moaned beneath him, as if asking for more.

Oh God, no. No tongue. No
way
was Dylan up for tongue.

The entire event couldn’t have lasted longer than five seconds, maybe six—okay, more like ten—but then Alec touched his tongue to Dylan’s lower lip, right before giving it a gentle nip. The pleasure nearly crippled Dylan, and he groaned.

Jesusfuckingchrist
.

Dylan drew back, stunned. Body smoking. Blood boiling. Limbs singed.

What the
hell
?

Blue eyes blinked up at him. “Sorry.” Alec cleared his throat. “Got a little carried away.”

Dylan wiped his mouth, surprised to find his fingers shook a little. “S’okay, man.” He swiped a hand through his hair and hoped he appeared calmer than he felt. “I’m the one who started the whole lip-lock idea.”

Several seconds passed by as Dylan tried to get his act together while Alec looked as if he was in pain.

Alec finally spoke again. “I need another drink.”

And all Dylan could think was
I need about twenty
.

~~~***~~~

Two shots of tequila later, with the stability of his knees still in question, retreat seemed to be Alec’s only option.

Three uniformed servers bustled across the hardwood floor of Noah’s kitchen. The impressive room contained restaurant quality appliances, eleven-foot ceilings, and huge windows overlooking the bay. Silver platters of appetizers lined the granite countertop. Although the space also included a full wine refrigerator and the bottle of Patrón Alec had pulled from the cupboard, he appreciated the solitude the most. He needed to focus on recovering from the feel of Dylan’s mouth pressed against his.

For the first few seconds of the kiss, all Alec could think was
this isn’t real
. Of course Dylan wanted to show Tyler up. But the longer the moment had gone on, the more genuine the scenario felt, until Alec had begun to envision how the night could end, with Alec on his knees in front of Dylan. Or vice versa. And, oh God…

He pressed his lids closed, rubbing his eyes.

“Alec.”

He looked up and met Tyler’s gray gaze, his ex leaning against the doorway to the kitchen. Alec’s heart picked up its thudding pace, and he braced for the encounter.

Wasn’t a make-out session with Dylan in front of fifty of Noah’s friends—not to mention the fallout from the event—enough to contend with for one night? And exactly when had Alec’s life turned into a headline worthy of
People
magazine?

Alec took a deep breath, trying to ease the tension in his chest. “Tyler—”

At the same time, Tyler said, “I want to—”

They both paused, and the heavy atmosphere grew more oppressive. A muscle in Tyler’s jaw twitched, a habit that Alec remembered from the early days of their relationship. Every time they’d met with an organization to request financial support for their newly founded clinic, Tyler had been well prepared. Cool. Confident. Sharply dressed and in total control. Except for the small tic that had been the only clue to Tyler’s discomfort.

The same tic that had appeared the afternoon Tyler told Alec goodbye.

Alec’s pulse increased to an uncomfortable rate. He’d fought hard for the right for them to marry. All he’d ever wanted was to share his life, his home, with someone special.
Commitment
. Tyler knew that the day he’d moved in. And was that too much to ask?

Apparently Tyler thought so.

“Actually, I just wanted to say I’m sorry for the way things went down,” Tyler said as he entered the kitchen. “I realize me leaving seemed to come out of the blue. And I know how hard that can be.”

For the first time since the breakup, Alec let his anger take the lead. “Do you?” The whiplash turn of events had left Alec stunned. He’d never even had a chance to save the relationship. “Everything seemed fine, and the next thing I knew, you were gone.”

Tyler glanced out the window. “In college, the same thing happened to me.” He crossed his arms. “I never did figure out what went wrong.”

Alec leaned back against the counter. “This is news to me.”

Tyler had mentioned he’d dated a guy in college. From Tyler’s expression now, Alec knew the relationship must have been serious. But why was he just learning this now?

“Memphis Haines and I were together for a year and a half before he broke it off without warning,” Tyler said.