The Backup Boyfriend (The Boyfriend Chronicles) (13 page)

“You can do that?”

Heck, no.

“Absolutely,” he said instead.

The flash of emotion in Alec’s eyes was brief but still managed to twist Dylan’s gut into knots. Great, now the vulnerable look on Alec’s face was courtesy of
Dylan
, not Alec’s ex. And the knowledge didn’t sit well.

“Maybe in a couple of months we can see where we are,” Alec said, but Dylan got the distinct impression Alec had no intention of following through. “But, for now, I think it’s best if we don’t see each other.”

Alec was giving Dylan the brush-off. Politely, of course. But still a brush-off.

An unfamiliar sensation crept up Dylan’s spine. Hunh, so this was how it felt for a woman when he reminded them that one night was all he’d agreed to. In the future, he’d have to remember how much it sucked to be on the receiving end.

But, for some reason, Dylan wasn’t ready to give up. “What about the poker run?”

Dylan wasn’t sure why, but he really wanted Alec around for the fundraiser.

“Maybe next year I’ll sign up to participate,” Alec said.

Fuck. Bad enough this was the fifth anniversary of the run. Now the event Dylan had been looking forward to for weeks felt less and less like the much-needed distraction he’d require to survive Rick’s birthday without going bonkers.

Still, even though sleeping with a guy didn’t threaten Dylan’s masculinity, acting like a clingy, psychotic girlfriend sure as heck would.

“Okay, man. If that’s what you want,” Dylan said. He studied Alec’s blue eyes before moving his mug to the sink. “See ya around.”

Without looking back, Dylan headed out of Alec’s house.

Two weeks later, Dylan parked his motorcycle in front of the Front Street Clinic.

Jesus, he was turning into the clingy, psychotic girlfriend.

But, damn it, he wasn’t stalking Alec. After days of no contact, Dylan was simply dropping by to ask if Alec had changed his mind about the poker run. Man to man. Friend to friend.

Nothing girly about that at
all
.

He dismounted, pausing before he flipped the kickstand down. The neighborhood skirted the edges of questionable, so he pushed his bike up the walk, grateful he’d driven his beater Yamaha instead of something he valued more. A large RV was parked on the side street, the words Mobile Medical Unit in red lettering on the side.

After a few seconds of deliberation, Dylan left his motorcycle along the right side of the building’s walkway and pulled open the front door. Done in basic, boring gray, the office just met the standards for functional. Scuffed linoleum. Basic furniture. The walls were blank other than a few posters proclaiming the importance of using condoms.

Dylan passed through the empty waiting room and headed for the utilitarian front desk. A middle-aged lady sat in front of a computer, her salt-and-pepper hair pulled back. The baggy sleeves of her scrubs flapped at her shoulders as her fingers flew across the keyboard.

Without even looking up, she said, “Can I help you?”

“I need to speak with Dr. Johnson.”

“Do you have an appointment?”

“Uh, no,” Dylan said. “Can you tell him Dylan Booth is here to see him?”

Her fingers finally stopped clacking away on the computer, and she shot Dylan a lethal look she’d probably spent years perfecting. Dylan adopted his most charming smile. Unfortunately, she was less than impressed.

She peered around his shoulder before returning that fierce gaze to his. “The walkway isn’t a parking lot.”

“Huh?”

“It’s a walkway.” When Dylan simply blinked in confusion, she continued as if participating in a spelling bee. “W-A-L-K—”

“I know how to spell walkway,” Dylan said drily.

Man, the dragon lady was one tough customer.

He smiled again. “If you’ll just speak with Dr. Johnson—”

“I’m sorry, but you’ll have to make an appointment.”

She returned her focus to her computer with more concentration than a Friday afternoon at five o’clock deserved. Either she was an overly dedicated employee or she was intentionally giving Dylan the brush-off. Heck, much more of this and his ego would start taking all these rejections personally.

Dylan leaned his elbows on the counter. “Just tell Dr. Johnson his boyfriend is here,” Dylan said and had the distinct satisfaction of watching Dragon Lady’s expression freeze.

The sight was definitely worth the risk Alec would consider Dylan the backup boyfriend that wouldn’t go away.

“What did you say your name was again?” she asked.

His grin grew bigger. “Dylan Booth. D-Y-L—”

“All right. All right.” Dragon lady pushed her rolling chair back from the desk. “No need to be a smartass.” She waved her hand at the empty waiting room consisting of a dozen plastic chairs and end tables with piles of magazines. “Have a seat.”

Dylan shot her his most charming smile. Again. “Thanks.”

She lifted her eyes heavenward in a what-a-piece-of-work expression.

Fifteen minutes later, Dylan fidgeted against the hard seat. He’d done a lot of thinking lately and come to the conclusion that, for the first time in his life, he had regrets. Or more accurately, one very big regret. Which was a strange feeling after a long-standing commitment to living in the present—because screw the past. She was a done deal. And screw the future cuz she was a fickle bitch.

No getting around the truth though. He’d messed up royally. As much as he’d enjoyed the life-altering sex, he’d found he missed Alec’s company more, enough that he’d trade in the un-fucking-believable memories just to have Alec back in his life.

As someone who appreciated good sex and happily spent most of his downtime alone, the thought was friggin’ disturbing.

“Dylan?”

Dylan looked up and did his best to keep the groan from escaping. How many conversations was he gonna have to suffer through before he spoke with Alec?

Tyler stood in front of him. His smooth, black hair just reached the tops of his ears, and the man looked watchful, all emotion carefully barricaded behind those iced-gray eyes.

“I’m here to see Alec,” Dylan said.

Well, duh, no shit, Sherlock
.

A small smile briefly flickered across Tyler’s face. “I guessed as much,” he said. “I know the relationship started out fake. But you two looked pretty serious by the end of Noah’s party.”

Dylan had already decided not to dwell on that particular memory.

Tyler’s dress pants, necktie, and button-down shirt looked crisply professional. And, for the first time, Dylan studied Tyler’s athletic build. The dude clearly took his training seriously. Dylan could appreciate why Alec had hooked up with his colleague. But, try as he might, Dylan couldn’t fathom why Tyler had moved out. And while Dylan preferred living alone, sharing a house with Alec must have been awesome.

“I assumed you and Alec had called things off,” Tyler went on.

Dylan shifted in his seat, hating the perceptive nature of Alec’s ex. “What made you think that?”

“His usual good mood has taken a leave of absence.”

And while Dylan felt bad about Alec being unhappy, on the other hand…

Thank God Dylan wasn’t the only one suffering here.

“We had a—” Dylan frowned. How to explain the BFF break-up? That wouldn’t be girly. Not at
all
. He cleared his throat before going on. “We had a bit of a disagreement. But I’m here to fix that.”

And if Dylan was absolutely honest with himself—something he’d avoided more aggressively than usual of late—part of him wondered if Tyler was the reason Alec didn’t want to be Dylan’s friend anymore. Because reconciling with his ex would be tough with the backup boyfriend turned one-night-stand hanging around.

Dylan’s frown grew deeper.

“Are you sure fixing the relationship is wise?” Tyler asked.

No, he wasn’t fucking sure of anything, except that none of this was any of Tyler’s business. “Yeah,” Dylan said. “I’m thinking it’s a brilliant plan.”

“I think you have the potential to really hurt him,” Tyler said.

Dylan let out a snort of…something. Annoyance, maybe, at Alec’s ex. Or maybe the sound reflected general confusion directed at himself. “That’s a surprising claim coming from the man whose leaving made Alec so miserable.”

Tyler didn’t flinch, and Dylan met his gaze out of sheer stubbornness.

“You can’t possibly understand why I really left. In fact”—a chill entered Tyler’s tone, matching that infernal, unflappable gaze—“neither would Alec.”

What the heck did that mean?

And after a sharp nod of goodbye, Tyler headed out the front door, clearly done with this uncomfortable conversation. Another ten minutes passed as Dylan waited. Should he leave? Where was Alec? Maybe he didn’t want to see Dylan, and this was a passive-aggressive way of telling him to get lost.

Growing antsy, he picked up a
People
magazine and flipped aimlessly through the pages. Voices drifted from up the hallway. In kakis and a pullover, Alec rounded the corner, holding a little girl’s hand, a tired-looking, middle-aged woman at his side. The sight sent Dylan’s eyebrows climbing.

Alec’s gaze met Dylan’s, and Alec sent him a slight nod. But his full attention remained on the small family. The kid bounced on her feet, occasionally swinging on Alec’s arm. But he calmly kept talking to the mother, completely unconcerned he was being used as a swing set.

Finally, Alec shook the woman’s hand goodbye and ruffled the kid’s head. The little girl giggled in response, and Dylan noticed the pleased crinkles around Alec’s eyes. The same crinkles he’d gotten every time he’d fired up the Harley.

Dylan’s chest gave a ridiculous twitch at the memory.

After showing his patients out, Alec approached Dylan. “Martha said my boyfriend was here to see me.”

For the life of him, Dylan couldn’t remember why he’d thought seeing the Dragon Lady’s reaction took priority over fearing the clingy girlfriend label with Alec.

“Uh, yeah.” Dylan dropped the magazine to the table, trying to decide if the moment was awkward or not. “About that…”

“She didn’t seem to believe your claim.”

The amused crinkles around Alec’s eyes reappeared, and Dylan relaxed a bit.

“Man, everyone sees right through me.” Dylan smiled. “Guess I make a lousy backup boyfriend.”

A light laugh escaped Alec. “You had your moments.”

This time the pause was definitely uncomfortable. The memories of those moments crowded into the empty spaces between them, soaking up all the oxygen from the empty waiting room. Memories of Alec kneeling at Dylan’s feet, Dylan on all fours in front of Alec…

Jesus, this wasn’t helping with the awkward vibe
.

Alec tucked his hair behind his ears. “What brings you here?”

Tell him the truth. Tell him you want to fix where they went wrong.

Dylan opened his mouth, but at the last moment, he lost his nerve and took the coward’s way out. “Noah’s driving me friggin’ nuts.”

A single eyebrow on Alec’s face rose higher.

Dylan stood, pacing a few steps away in hopes of easing the tension. “He’s changing the poker run all around.”

“Okay,” Alec said, drawing out the vowels. “But he
is
in charge this year.”

Plowing a hand through his hair, Dylan said, “I know.” He turned to face Alec and dropped his arm to his side. “But now he wants to run the whole thing in
teams
. Which is a ridiculously dumb idea. And the food he’s serving at each stop is friggin’ weird.”

Gaze intense, Alec said, “Dylan, why are you really here?”

Dylan stuck his hands in the back pocket of his jeans, running through his response in his mind. As the fifth anniversary of the poker run slowly drew near, the antsier Dylan grew. Five years without his best friend felt like a milestone—a really depressing milestone. The dark thoughts left him biting back the real answer to Alec’s question and the words that were filling Dylan’s chest, itching to get out.

Because I wanted to see you again
.

Because I’ve missed your company
.

Because I need you as a friend
.

Fuck, the creepy melancholy was seriously mucking with his brain.

All Dylan could come up with was pretty lame. “I came because I hoped to talk you into being the fifth on my team for the poker run.”

“Dylan.” Alec blew out a breath. “I think—”

“Hands to myself.” Dylan held up his arms, palms facing Alec, as if taking a two-handed solemn pledge. “I promise. Besides, you don’t want to miss out on all of Noah’s hard work, do you?”

Dylan wasn’t sure why getting Alec to ride along felt so important. More important than work. More important than even the poker run itself.

“Come on, Alec.” Despite the urgency pounding its way through Dylan’s brain, he sent Alec an easy smile, hoping to take the edge out of the moment. “You got something better to do next weekend?”

Alec’s lips quirked. “Not really.”

“Good,” Dylan said, pouncing on the admission as though Alec had said yes. Best just to keep moving forward. “I’ll plan on meeting you at the starting point.”

Alec hesitated, looking if he was about to protest, so Dylan quickly went on. “Trust me, you don’t want to miss Noah wearing his hot pink T-shirt with the words
Drama Queen In Charge
.”

Alec laughed, his eyes crinkling in the corners, and Dylan smiled his first
real
smile since landing at the Front Street Clinic.

Dragon Lady appeared from around the corner, a large tote slung over her shoulders. “Good night, Alec.”

“’Night, Martha,” Alec said. “See you Monday.”

When the woman narrowed her eyes at Dylan, he smiled. “Careful you don’t trip over that motorcycle parked on the walkway,” Dylan said, enjoying the visual daggers she lobbed in his direction. “And thanks for all your help.”

Martha let out a snort as she passed by and pushed her way out the front door.

“Good employees are hard to fine,” Alec said with a wry twist of his lips. “Next time you drop in to say hello, I’d be most appreciative if you wouldn’t piss off my staff.”

The words
next time
echoed in Dylan’s head, feeling almost like a victory and easing the two-week-old tightness in his chest. “Sure thing, man. Whatever you say.”