Brad's Bachelor Party (7 page)

“Nope. No touching,” Brad said when he’d finally recovered, looking at the group of women standing at the other end of the aisle. “The lady was careful to keep her hands to herself.”

There must have been something in Brad’s tone, or the cautious wording of his response, or the way he almost hacked up a lung, that tipped his brother off. Because while Martinez and Ryan went to sit at the edge of the stage, clearly too hungover to continue standing, Danny’s gaze instantly sharpened on his brother and then on Cole. And then he was shifting his eyes back to the groom again before returning them to the best man.

The best man who, twenty-four hours earlier, had ground his hips against the groom before coating his chest with semen.

Good God, when was this rehearsal going to be over?

“Huh,” Danny said with more than a little suspicion in his eyes. “Sounds like you guys were robbed blind, man.”

“Trust me, Danny,” Brad said. “It was worth every penny.”

Cole shifted, angling his body better to send Brad a private
what the hell?
look. Because as bad as Ryan and Martinez were feeling, the subtext was flying right over their heads. But Danny? Danny was looking at Brad and Cole as if there was more to the story and he was on to them.

Brad merely winked and sent Cole a reassuring smile.

Clearly the reason Cole had blown his job of keeping Brad out of trouble was because the man was
impossible
. But Cole was pretty sure Jenny hadn’t considered him the real threat when she’d waved them off on their adventure yesterday, putting the best man in charge.

Best man.

Now there was a title he didn’t deserve.

Danny finally gave up on his silent interrogation and left to sit beside the other two groomsmen. As Cole stared at Brad, the easy, amused look on his friend’s face slowly grew thoughtful. Two more seconds ticked by and his expression changed to something else entirely, scanning Cole’s eyes with a trace of what looked like…hunger.

Cole glared at Brad.

“Don’t worry, Cole,” Brad whispered. “I’m not going to start dry humping you in public.”

“
Brad
,” Cole hissed. “It’s not funny.

Brad let out a defeated sigh. “You’re right,” he said, surprising Cole with the response. Brad
not
teasing him was infinitely more dangerous. His friend studied him for a moment, and there was something in his expression that Cole couldn’t make out.

“I still want you, you know,” Brad said quietly.

The painful honesty in his voice, in his face, was more than Cole could take. He closed his eyes, as if shutting out the sights and sounds of the activity around him—the sight of
Brad
—could somehow make the situation bearable.

“You have no right,” Cole said, his voice hoarse. He lifted his lids to meet Brad’s gaze. “You have absolutely no right to say that to me.”

“I know.” Brad attempted a shrug, looking resigned. “I just…” A muscle ticked in his jaw, the only sign of his discomfort. “I just didn’t want you to think it was all in fun. Or just a joke. Or that it didn’t mean anything.” He waited until Cole looked at him directly again. “Because it did.”

Christ.

There was zero time to process his words as the wedding officiant finally made his way back up the aisle.

“All right, gentlemen,” the balding man said. “We’re going to run through it one more time. All the way up until the end of the ceremony.”

The groomsmen assumed their positions. And as the bridesmaids began the ludicrous half-step strides up the aisle, Danny leaned behind Cole to address his brother.

“Tomorrow, you’d better make the kiss a good one, bro,” Danny said in a low voice. “We want to see some tongue.”

In unison, Brad and Cole whispered, “Shut up, Danny.”

Chapter Nine

The knock on Brad’s hotel room door was loud, and only one person he knew could make it sound like a command. Hopefully Cole had come to respond to Brad’s awkward confession at tonight’s rehearsal. The second knock was even more angry and demanding than the first, and Brad twisted his lips wryly.

Fun times ahead.

“You know what I think?” Cole said the moment Brad opened the door. His friend pushed past, his shoulder brushing Brad’s with enough momentum to force Brad back a step. “I think you’re freaked out about getting married.”

Cole strode into the room and turned to lean against the back of the couch in the sitting room, arms crossed, blue eyes blazing. He’d changed into a simple black T-shirt and black jeans, his feet bare, hair sticking up as if he’d plowed through it searching for the answers to all life’s questions on the way here.

And why was Brad just now realizing that not only was a grumpy Cole hilarious, he was hot as hell too?

Hand on the doorknob, Brad shifted on his bare feet, cocking his hip.

“Hello, Cole. Come on in,” Brad drawled, unable to keep the sarcasm from his voice. “Make yourself at home.”

Cole said nothing as Brad closed the door and approached him. The tension radiating off the man created a force field that made moving closer difficult. But the gravitational field it generated as well was sucking Cole in and, fuck his life, turning him on.

He’d always considered himself roughly 90 percent heterosexual, if such a thing were possible. With Cole around, that percentage was seriously suspect. And every time the man moved closer, the number dropped like a friggin’ stone.

“And what makes you such an expert on the inner workings of my mind?” Brad said.

Heck, he was
in
his mind and still confused as hell.

“Don’t forget I watched your merry-go-round dating methods in college,” Cole said.

“Merry-go-round?”

Cole tipped his head as if Brad was playing dumb. Brad had no intention of informing him he wasn’t playing anything; he simply was
that dumb.

“Every time you dated a woman, as soon as she got too serious, you’d jump into bed with some other girl,” Cole said. “You’ve literally screwed your way out of every relationship you’ve ever had, Brad.”

Damn, he hated that Cole was right.

“At least I have relationships,” Brad said drily. “When was the last time you went on a date?”

Cole’s jaw tensed, but he didn’t take the bait. Probably because he was smart enough not to let Brad make this about Cole.

“I am not going to be the stepping-stone out of the current mess you’ve made of your life,” Cole said finally. “I am not going to be the one you have sex with simply because you’re freaked about getting married.”

He said the words as if he’d given them a lot of thought. And the idea of Cole thinking about taking Brad—against a wall, or on the floor, or anywhere else for that matter—shot Brad’s heart into fifth gear.

“I like Jenny,” Cole said. “She deserves better.”

Momentarily gutted by the guilt, Brad lowered his brow. “I like her too. And I know she deserves better than me.”

Marriage of convenience or not, she sure deserved better than a fiancé who was thinking about getting to know his best man in the biblical sense the night before their wedding. Especially when Cole was looking at him like he wanted to wrap his hands around Brad’s neck.

And all Brad could think was, “Count me in.”

“You like her?” Cole stepped closer, his face incredulous. “You
like
her?”

Brad barely restrained the roll of his eyes. His patience with this conversation wasn’t going to last, especially if Cole was going to repeat himself.

“For God’s sake Brad,” Cole said. “You’re marrying her tomorrow. You’re supposed to be
in love
with her.”

“Well, I’m not,” Brad shot back. “I’m in love with
you
.”

Chapter Ten

As if he’d been decked, Cole sucked in a sharp breath. Brad couldn’t blame him. He was feeling sucker punched himself.

Shit.

He wanted to take the words back, but he couldn’t. He wanted to say they were a lie, but they weren’t. Which meant he was royally screwed.

For a full five seconds Cole stared at Brad with a mix of disbelief and accusation. An exasperated disgust soon replaced both. His friend pivoted and strode away, stopping to stare out at the night beyond the sliding glass doors. Shoulders and back tense, Cole remained silent, his breath heaving in and out as if he couldn’t breathe fast enough. Or maybe he was about to explode from the force of his anger.

Brad felt ready to detonate as well.

Love.

Jesus. After all the women he’d dated—and the number was considerable—love wasn’t a concept he’d ever considered before, much less understood. The feeling of being in over his head was overwhelming. And why Cole? Why
now?

When Cole finally spoke, the words sounded as if they’d been dragged over gravel.

“You are such a fucking idiot.”

Brad’s lids grew wide. Because, while Brad pretty much agreed with the statement, Cole rarely swore. Brad was quite sure the cool-headed brainiac had never used the F bomb in his life. So, okay, clearly it was Brad’s fault. He’d just admitted he had…
feelings
for his best friend. His
best man
. But in his defense, he hadn’t really known until now. Or maybe he’d known but hadn’t been able to admit it until right this moment in time. Or maybe he hadn’t just been living the philosophy of that long river in Egypt; he’d fucking set up camp on its shores.

Brad closed his eyes and dragged a hand down his face, the feeling of being screwed settling deeper.

Tonight as he’d stood with the wedding party and thought of the words
to have and to hold
, all he could think about was holding Cole. And when Brad had contemplated
till death do you part
, which had seriously wigged him the hell out, all he’d known was that he didn’t want to be apart from
Cole.

“
Such
a fucking idiot,” Cole repeated.

When Cole finally turned to face him, anger present in every tensed muscle, Brad realized his confession had really flipped a switch in his friend.

“You won’t get much of an argument out of me,” Brad said. He wasn’t excited about listing out all the ways he was an idiot.

There weren’t enough hours in the rest of his life.

“But you’ve chosen to hang out with me for the last twelve years, Cole.” Brad deliberately ignored their years apart because, as far as he was concerned, they’d been a mistake. “So what does that say about your taste in friends?”

Cole slowly tipped his head, and the tension rose tenfold. Maybe now was a bad time for Brad to hide his nerves behind sarcasm delivered with a flippant tone. Especially with Cole so pissed off and all.

But the panic was rising higher. The more he considered the truth, the more he realized his future happiness was tied to Cole. And the thought was scary as hell.

“Say it.” Though Cole’s words came out low, there was fury infused in every syllable. And any affection he might feel for Brad was nowhere near his expression. “I want to hear you say it out loud.”

Sensing this shit storm was approaching ground zero, Brad swallowed hard. “Say what?”

He’d already gone girly and used the
L
word. Wasn’t that enough?

Cole slowly advanced on him, the look on his face almost predatory. “I want you to ask me to fuck you.”

Jesus. H. Christ.

Brad sat his butt on the back of the couch, hoping to hide the fact that his legs had just given out. Considering the physical aspect of their newly forged relationship was a heck of a lot easier than dwelling on the emotional. Or the fact that he was set to marry a woman he didn’t love.

The knot at Brad’s throat, the noose around his neck, tightened a little more, finally reaching that critical level. Two days ago it had been manageable. Tonight Brad felt as if he couldn’t get enough air.

Just concentrate on what’s right in front of you.

Cole.

Brad crossed his arms and did his best to smirk, because he’d be damned before he’d let his nervousness show. “I want you to fuck me.”

No way was he gonna ask and say
please.

His friend finally came to a stop in front of him, and Brad stared up at Cole, realizing that he was outgunned and outmanned for this particular endeavor. Cole towered over him. And while Brad was more muscular, Cole was an inch taller and wiry as hell. There was no doubt in his mind that Cole could overpower him easily enough.

Brad’s dick gave an interested twitch.

Hunh
, now there was a kink he’d never known he had.

Cole still didn’t move, blue eyes boring into Brad’s, his face tight with anger. And the sexual tension was thicker than a Los Angeles summer smog during rush hour. Brad’s patience with the staring contest wore thin. The longer the pause stretched, the more his mind kept returning to the fact that he’d fallen. For his best friend. The night before he was set to get married.

The pressure bearing down on his chest reached barometric levels of epic proportions.

God,
somebody
had to make the first move and shut down his thoughts or he was going to go insane. Brad let out a soft huff and reached for the hem of Cole’s shirt.

Cole batted Brad’s hand away, and the sensual hit to Brad’s groin was startling. Half-hard already.

Man, much more of this and Brad would have to label himself
easy.

Gaze burning, probably more from anger than lust, Cole said, “Take off your clothes.”

Brad blinked, adjusting to the harshly worded command. “No wonder you haven’t dated much,” he drawled, this time burying his nerves with his best defense, that of complete asshole. “You really need to learn how to seduce a guy, Cole.”

Lips tight, Cole reached for Brad’s shirt and, without a word, heaved it over Brad’s head, giving Brad no choice but to lift his arms and help.

Cole tossed the shirt aside. “Pants
off
.”

For two heartbeats Brad’s hand hovered over his belt while he thought about tossing out another wisecrack. But if Cole got any more assertive, Brad was going to come in his pants before he’d even been touched, and how embarrassing would that be? He hadn’t done that since junior high. He might not be as well versed in the homosexual side of things, his high school dabblings relatively tame, but this wasn’t his first night at the prom either. Besides, he’d had more sex in the last year than Cole had probably had in the last twelve. He wouldn’t be intimidated.