The Backup Boyfriend (The Boyfriend Chronicles) (21 page)

His
ex-boyfriend
.

Dylan wrestled the resentful frown into submission as he watched the two from the corner of his eye, hoping his overly attentive scrutiny managed to go unnoticed. But he could barely spell discreet, much less pull the act off.

A hand clapped his shoulder from behind, and Dylan tensed as if punched.

Busted
.

Palm on Dylan’s back, Noah leaned in to address Tyler and Alec. “Tell me again who I’m supposed to be rooting for, the blue guys or the red?”

Dylan let out a silent breath. “Jesus, Noah.” Dylan forced his muscles to relax, grateful the overwhelming task of keeping two teams straight had rendered his sharp-eyed friend unusually oblivious to the subject of Dylan’s scrutiny. “The ones with the Tigers on their helmets.”

Despite the first-class environment of the sky box, Dylan preferred Danny’s Suds and Sports for watching football games. Since the start of football season, he and Alec had fallen into the habit of spending one night a week at the sports bar watching the game. On the other nights, Alec cooked, and Dylan cleaned up.

Dylan had existed on takeout for more years than he could remember. As far as he was concerned, the food pyramid should be constructed of Styrofoam containers. Lately, though, Dylan had grown fond of a home-cooked meal. He also preferred the comfort of Alec’s house, which had excellent food and Alec for company. The cooking process provided a whole new variety of ways for Dylan to get his hands on the man while he couldn’t defend himself. Better yet, groping was not only welcome it was actively encouraged. And so what if the touching sometimes held zero sexual intent? Dylan was learning to be okay with that too.

But, right now, what thrilled Dylan the most about their time at home was the absence of Alec’s ex.

“Tigers? Is that what’s pictured on their helmets?” Noah squinted at one of the TVs on the far wall. “No wonder they lose. The cute little cartoon tiger is hardly a kick-ass kind of image.”

Tyler smiled, Alec laughed, and Dylan knew he should too.

He just…couldn’t.

“Tell me again why we’re here?” Dylan asked. “You don’t even like football, Noah.”

“I will always be in favor of a sport with men called eligible receivers or tight ends.
Especially
when a play involves those men piling on top of one another.” He swiped a lock of brown hair from his forehead. “Though the Catholic in me objects to the term Hail Mary pass.”

Alec stared at Noah as if seeing him in a new light. “You’re Catholic?”

Tyler tossed his ex a look. “Only when the label suits him, which—”

“Is never,” Alec said, completing the thought.

Damn, bad enough the two had decided to become friends again, but did they really need to finish each other’s sentences? Frowning, Dylan concentrated on the football players crashing into each other below.

After two years together— Shit, Tyler and Alec had lived together for
two years
.

Dylan had never been bothered by that fact before. Why now? Most likely the whole tag-team conversation thing represented a habit more than anything else. But still…

Feeling cranky sucked, and Dylan knew he was being an unreasonable bastard. Technically, he and Alec weren’t even dating. They were just…two friends enjoying some primo benefits.

Dylan chose not to hurt himself dwelling on the thought for long.

Instead, he pretended to be interested in the cheerleaders down below. Women in unbelievable short shorts and what could only generously be called tank tops, doing intriguingly bendy things. He appreciated the view. That definitely hadn’t changed. He just wished he could work up a little more enthusiasm for following through.

“All of this is fascinating,” Dylan said dryly. “But how did we wind up
here
?”

Noah dropped into the seat beside Dylan. “A shameless bribe by Jack Davis. Of course, what he
really
wants is to capitalize on the award Tyler and Alec are set to receive next weekend.”

“I meant to ask you earlier,” Tyler said to Alec. “Are your parents coming to the ceremony?”

Alec hesitated. “Probably.”

Tyler’s gray eyes studied Alec, and something passed between the two. “Sorry.”

“Me too,” Alec said quietly.

What the hell was that all about? Dylan gripped the armrest of his seat, his thoughts interrupted by Noah.

“This is Jack’s way of persuading us to team up with his hospital for an annual fundraiser.” Noah eyed Tyler. “But
some
people are being stubborn.”

Tyler looked at Noah, his voice firm but calm. “I said no.” He rose to his feet.

“We’d be fools to pass on his proposition.” Noah looked up at Tyler. “It’s like throwing money away, for chrissakes.”

Ignoring Noah, Tyler went on. “I’m going to get a drink. Anybody need anything while I’m up?”

Dylan needed for the man to be gone. He needed for Alec to quit talking to his ex as if they’d been friggin’ boyfriends for years. Most importantly, Dylan needed to understand why he needed those things.

When Alec murmured no, Tyler headed toward the bar. Noah leaped up to follow, and a concerned expression crossed Alec’s face as he watched the two cross the room.

“Tyler’s perfectly capable of handling Noah,” Dylan said.

“I’ve never seen Tyler so ruffled before.”

Dylan studied the two men at the bar. Tyler relaxed against the counter as he shook his head in refusal while Noah gestured in that melodramatic way of his.

“He doesn’t look ruffled to me,” Dylan said.

“I can tell.”

Yeah, because they’d lived together for
two fucking years
. Dylan couldn’t commit to a cell phone service for that length of time.

“I think we’ve got a disaster in the making on our hands,” Alec said.

Dylan cocked his head. “A ran-out-of-gas kind of disaster? Or a Titanic disaster?

Alec ticked his gaze to Dylan and smiled, resting his hand on Dylan’s thigh and leaning closer. For a moment Dylan thought Alec was going to kiss him, and Dylan’s muscles grew rigid. Alec must have felt him tense, because, at the last second, he reached across Dylan’s lap and picked up a cheese stick from his plate. Dylan relaxed.

Kissing was good. Kissing
Alec
was great, but Dylan didn’t do public displays of affection.

He hoped the grin he sent somehow compensated for his stupid hang-up. “Or maybe a Destiny’s Bitch kind of disaster.”

Alec let out a huff of humor. “Much worse than a drag queen show at a poker run.” He dipped his cheese stick in the marinara sauce and sat back in his chair. “Noah has managed to convince a camera guy and a director to volunteer to film advertisements for the bachelor bid.”

“Did he seduce them? Or harass them until it was either surrender or throw themselves off the Golden Gate to end the agony?”

“I don’t know. Either way, if we agree to Jack Davis’ plan, we need a celebrity to shoot the ads. Unfortunately for Tyler, he used to date Memphis Haines.”

Dylan watched Alec take a bite of his cheese stick. “Isn’t he some stunt guy?”

Alec swallowed and wiped his mouth with a napkin. “That’s the one,” he said. “But mostly he’s known for his Fifth and Taylor advertisements.” When Dylan’s brow bunched as he tried to place the name of the store, Alec continued. “The designer underwear ads.”

Dylan’s eyelids stretched wide. “The nearly naked dude on the billboards?”

“The very one.”

“How did Noah find out?”

“I…uh…”

A sheepish Alec looked kinda cute, and it was doing strange things to Dylan’s chest.

Alec grimaced and went on. “I accidentally mentioned that Tyler had a famous ex-boyfriend. When Tyler shot me down with his gaze, I had to make something up to cover.”

“Dude,” Dylan said with a laugh, his first since Tyler had arrived on the scene today. “You’re a terrible liar.”

Alec frowned, but his heart wasn’t in it. “I’m going to take that as a compliment.” He blew out a breath. “Anyway, somehow Noah sniffed out the truth. And now he’s harassing Tyler to ask Memphis to star in our ads. Tyler is refusing. Noah says he’ll just visit Memphis himself, using Tyler’s name.”

“Sounds like your usual Noah fuckup waiting to happen.”

“Don’t remind me.”

Alec tucked his hair behind his ear. The thick waves appeared to have been through the wringer, as though he’d spent the day shoving his fingers through the strands in frustration. Dylan wasn’t sure if the frustration stemmed from the friction between Tyler and Noah or Alec’s worries about raising the matching grant money.

“What do you think of the Bachelor Bid plan?” Dylan asked.

Dylan studied Alec carefully as the man glanced at his ex. Another worried look crossed Alec’s face, and Dylan felt the emotion all the ways to his goddamn work boots.

“I think the plan is sound,” Alec said. “But it’s not worth risking Tyler’s peace of mind.”

Alec still cared about Tyler.

Okay, maybe not in an I-want-you-back kind of way, but he clearly didn’t hate the man. Normally Dylan didn’t encourage hostility between people—peace and good will and all that bullshit worked just fine for him.

But…damn.

“I’m sure the clinic will raise enough money to match the grant in time,” Dylan said.

“If we don’t, our plans for housing will be seriously delayed.”

Alec stared blankly at the field below, obviously lost in thought and totally unconcerned as the Tigers attempted a first down and missed. Dylan hiked his ankle up to rest on his knee and wished he could fix the funding problem for Alec. No one knew better than Dylan that providing housing for their most vulnerable patients was vitally important. Expecting Alec to stay away from Tyler bordered on being one of the most selfish ideas Dylan had ever had.

And he’d had some doozies, for sure.

The two men ran a clinic together. They provided a crucial service. Of course they needed to get along, but a hint of lingering tension would be nice. A residual resentment would be awesome. But maybe Alec missed having a full-time partner in his home. Maybe he wanted someone who actually liked to touch in public.

Or maybe Alec simply missed blowjobs.

Dylan’s stomach took a Screamin’ Demon nosedive for the floor.

Fuck, what a stupid thought. Dylan slumped in his seat and watched the Tigers rally on the fourth down and gain fifteen yards on a spectacular pass. The fans below jumped to their feet, their screams and catcalls and fog horns muted by the thick glass.

Dylan briefly pressed his lids closed, his mind spinning.

Communication. After the hot, Da Vinci-inspired moment in Dylan’s garage, he’d promised to work a little on his communication skills. ’Course, at the time, he’d meant it in regards to sex, but maybe he should follow through on that promise in another way.

“So…” Dylan cleared his throat, keeping his voice low and hoping he didn’t sound as moronic as he felt. “At one point in my sordid past, I gave blowjobs in exchange for money.”

Alec’s breath whooshed from his lungs, and his stomach contracted with a sickening lurch. Christ, he felt as if he’d been tackled from behind. The need to pull Dylan into his arms and hold him was overwhelming. He knew Dylan would hate the response, so he gripped his chair and forced himself to focus on the activity below. The opposing team blocked a field goal, the chorus of groans from the crowd filling the silence between them as Alec struggled for something to say.

Dylan kept his eyes on the game, his posture relaxed as he reached for the beer sitting on the side table. Even the fingers wrapped around his mug looked loose. The absence of a white-knuckled appearance threw Alec off kilter. How could Dylan drop such a bombshell and act so nonchalant?

Three seconds ticked by before the muscles around Dylan’s mouth tensed, betraying his emotions.

Dylan still refused to meet his gaze. “Aren’t you going to say anything?”

Alec tried to swallow, but his throat felt too tight. “I think you’re one of the most amazing men I’ve ever met.”

The scoff that ripped from Dylan held a fair amount of skeptical amusement. “You’re too goddamn nice, Alec. We gotta work on that.”

But Alec didn’t buy any of the garbage that sprang from Dylan’s mouth, especially now. The moment felt huge. Pivotal. And Alec felt inadequate. Unfit for the conversation ahead. All those stupid letters after his name, all those degrees he’d earned, and not one of them had helped prepare him for this task.

He struggled for the right words as he stared at Dylan’s profile. “Don’t tell me you feel ashamed… because you shouldn’t.”

The thought actually hurt. Dylan lived his life wide open, not giving a damn what other people thought about him. And that was all well and good.

But what did he think of himself?

Dylan paused long enough to blink twice. “No shame here,” he said, finally meeting Alec’s gaze. “I did what I did to survive on the streets, and I don’t regret a thing. Regret’s a useless emotion anyway. But…”

His lips twisted wryly. Alec waited, not moving a muscle. Any reaction on his part could be misconstrued as judgment or pity. And Dylan clearly tolerated neither.

Dylan heaved out a breath. “I’m just sorry it’s ruined things for you.”

“For me? What are you talking about?”

“I can’t”—he rolled his hand as if to help the words along—“you know.”

“My God, Dylan,” Alec said, leaning closer. “Do you really think I care about that?”

Dylan scowled, his expression obviously stemming from confusion, not anger. “Shouldn’t you?”

The question was horrendous, heartbreaking, and so perfectly, perfectly Dylan.

Dylan chewed on his lower lip and turned his attention back to the field. Alec used the time to scan Dylan’s profile and the puzzled look on his face. Apparently, Dylan couldn’t understand Alec’s lack of concern about a sexual hang-up that affected him directly. After the weeks they’d spent together, is that still all Dylan felt the two of them were good for? A great fuck?

Pressure built in Alec’s chest, a pressure so great Alec’s heart rate dropped in response. Time slowed. The sound of the crowd faded. His field of vision narrowed to Dylan as awareness buzzed through him, skirting the edges of something so big, so monumental, the magnitude rendered him unable to move. And then the truth hit with a ruthless force.