The Backup Boyfriend (The Boyfriend Chronicles) (27 page)

“Haven’t a clue,” she said.

She paused, as if she wanted to say more. Alec took advantage of her hesitation and pivoted to leave.

“Wait.”

Alec mentally groaned and turned to face the receptionist again.

Martha pushed her reading glasses up on her head, her salt and paper hair now sticking up at odd angles. “Haven’t seen that boyfriend of yours around lately.”

Numbed by the words, Alec waited for her to go on. He knew she was referring to Dylan. In the months since Tyler and Alec had broken up, not once had Martha made a comment. Everyone had known the moment Tyler had moved out, and most of the employees had either offered words of support and condolences or sent Alec sympathetic looks.

Not Martha.

Alec appreciated how the nurse/secretary/front-desk bulldog had been the single employee at the clinic who had kept her opinions and sympathies to herself—assuming, of course, sympathy was within her capabilities. She didn’t believe in small talk or socializing. Nothing but work.

Until now.

“You tell him the next time he comes around he needs to park that motorcycle of his in the parking lot,” she said. “Not on our walkway.”

Despite the surge of sadness, Alec smiled at her grumpy way of wishing Alec luck with Dylan.

“Thanks, Martha,” Alec said. “I appreciate it.”

“Yeah?” She looked embarrassed at being caught being nice. “You might not be so grateful after you see the names on that list,” she said, nodding at the clipboard. “The most disagreeable, noncompliant patients I could assemble.” She propped a hand on her hip. “I suspect you need a little challenge right now.”

“Thanks, Martha.” Alec let out a small huff of humor. “I think.”

Martha nodded brusquely at the side exit. “Tyler is waiting.”

Gripping his latte, Alec set down the clipboard and headed outside into the fading afternoon light, crossing the sidewalk and stepping up into the RV that had been converted into a rolling clinic. The front of the vehicle contained two chairs for drawing blood to send for labs, the middle devoted to a tiny exam room complete with a patient table. The back consisted of a makeshift pharmacy where the medications were kept.

Testing was crucial, but if patients identified as HIV positive lacked access to medications, then the system failed in its most vital role. Alec would always be proud of what he and Tyler had built here.

A clinic that could have prolonged Rick’s life.

Alec locked the sadness away and found Tyler in back squatting in front of an open cabinet, restocking their supply of brochures about safe sex. Alec had to smile. Even at the end of a long day, Tyler still looked impeccable, not a wrinkle to be found on his dress shirt, tie, or slacks.

“Hey.” Alec leaned against the narrow doorway. “You wanted to see me?”

Tyler acknowledged Alec with a nod. “Logan and I broke up,” he said before continuing with his task.

The coolly delivered words came as a shock. For a moment, Alec forgot to blink. He’d never even considered Tyler wanted to talk about himself.

“What happened?” Alec asked.

Tyler lined up the stacks of pamphlets with the same precision he applied to everything in his life. “His job,” he said. “Turns out being an award-winning documentary film producer requires a lot of travel. And while I’m all for being monogamous, if your partner’s gone most of the time, monogamy kind of sucks.”

Alec absorbed the news as he finished his coffee and tossed the cup in the trash.

“I’m sorry,” Alec said.

“Don’t worry.” Tyler paused to rest an arm on his thigh, and a hint of humor crept into his eyes. “I won’t call your mother and tell her I’m a free man again.”

Alec’s lips twisted wryly. “Thank you.”

Tyler’s gray gaze held Alec’s. Alec expected his ex to return to his task. Instead, after a brief pause, Tyler stood and faced him.

“We could try this again,” Tyler said, leaning a hip against the counter. “Try
us
again.”

The statement made an impressive landing, leaving Alec’s mind reeling. Stunned, Alec stared out the RV window as a car roared by on the street beyond, the sound fading as the vehicle disappeared over the hill.

And what if Tyler claimed he wanted me back, Dylan
?
What would you say
?

I’d say you don’t belong with him
.

“Think about it, Alec,” Tyler went on. “We make sense.”

In the days following their breakup, Alec would have given anything to hear those words.

In fact, if he hadn’t met Dylan, Alec would be jumping at the offer right now. And he and Tyler might have made a real go at the relationship this time, even worked out their differences and been completely content. But contently happy could never replace soul-deep joy.

Dylan had taught him the difference.

Alec had never loved Tyler. Not the way he loved Dylan. Alec had been so focused on the idea of permanency, of getting married, that he’d clung to the idea of the relationship more than the man himself.

“I don’t think…” Alec shifted his weight on his feet. “I don’t think it’s supposed to make sense.”

A faint crinkle appeared on Tyler’s brow.

“Dylan’s not really gay,” Alec said.

Tyler’s crinkle grew deeper. “You mean he faked that too?”

“Yes,” Alec said. “And no.” He rubbed his forehead, realizing he sounded crazy. “I mean, he
was
sleeping with me, but—”

“Let me guess.” One brow shifted marginally higher. “He’s so deep into that walk-in-sized closet of his he couldn’t find his way out with a flashlight, a GPS, and a search-and-rescue team.”

“That’s what I originally thought,” Alec said. “But he truly has no hang-ups when it comes to labels. Gay, straight, bi, and every shade in between. He just doesn’t care. It’s almost funny.” Alec watched the fading light filter through the trees outside, wishing he could laugh. “I’m the guy who’s supposed to be protesting the limitation of labels. And yet, all along, I’m the one who tried to force Dylan to accept one.”

“Most people need labels because they bring a measure of security.”

“Exactly,” Alec said.

Tyler crossed his arms. “Then what’s the problem with Dylan?”

Stumped, Alec considered the question before letting out a self-chastising scoff.

“I guess it’s another labeling issue. I want him to accept that we’re in a relationship, and the idea freaks him out.” Alec slowly blew out a breath. “He doesn’t care if people know we eat dinner together every evening or that he spends most every night in my bed. But God forbid you call him my boyfriend.”

“So he’s afraid of being in a relationship.”

Fear. The word did sum up the problem nicely. Dylan had learned to live with the loss of his mother and then his father. But Rick’s death had been one loss too many.

“I just don’t know where to go from here,” Alec said.

“Well, I know how important being part of a couple is to you.”

Pressure made Alec’s throat ache as he looked at his ex. In the days that followed Tyler moving out, Alec had been too busy throwing a pity party to realize he was a major part of their problems. He’d mourned the loss of the couple label more than the loss of his partner.

God, I’ve been such a dick.

“I’m sorry, Tyler. I didn’t mean to use you that way.”

As always, Tyler’s eyes remained cool and calm, but the muscle in his jaw clenched—the only sign of his discomfort. “It’s okay,” he said. “Took me a while to figure everything out. I wasn’t exactly Mr. Perceptive.”

“No, it’s not okay. I ignored
us
in my focus on the clinic and ending Proposition 8. Essentially, I totally took you for granted. And you deserve better than that.”

Tyler gave a single nod. “I do.” He lifted a shoulder with his signature economy of movement. “Then again, doesn’t everyone?”

They slipped into a companionable silence, and Alec leaned against the wall, grateful they’d managed to salvage their friendship. He was going to need all the friends he could get to survive the loneliness of the next few weeks. Months.

Years
.

Christ. Alec fought the need to close his eyes against the painful thought.

Hip parked against the counter, Tyler crossed his ankles. “What are you going to do about Dylan?”

The sudden weight in Alec’s chest made his heart’s job difficult. That very question had been eating at him since Dylan took off. Alec was no closer to an answer now then he was back then.

“I don’t know,” Alec said.

He hated the way Tyler was looking at him. As if his ex knew Alec had waded into the deep-shit end of trouble and things were about to get worse.

“You love him,” Tyler said.

“Yeah,” Alec said. “I do.”

Tyler’s eyes remained steady, and two seconds ticked by before he spoke.

“I think you should go see Dylan,” Tyler said. “Tell him how you feel.”

“I already told him, and he left anyway. I don’t think he wants to see me again.”

“Who cares? Don’t make the same mistake I did, Alec. Don’t let him walk away without putting up a fight.”

And although the words were delivered with a detached tone—Noah didn’t call Tyler The Ice Man for nothing—clearly, when it came to Memphis Haines, Tyler had regrets.

“Do whatever it takes to fix things with Dylan, Alec.” Tyler stepped closer, his colorless gray eyes as close to expressive as Alec had ever seen. “Before it’s too late.”

In the end, Alec decided he needed to call his mother before climbing on his motorcycle to hunt Dylan down. If he expected Dylan to stop closing himself off to the potential between them, then Alec needed to set his own affairs in order first. And that meant living a lie ended today.

He let out a scoff. Funny how the truth involved more than just where he stood in relation to the closet door.

“Hey, Mom,” Alec said after she answered.

“Alec?” She sounded distracted, the sound of shuffling papers in the background. “Is something wrong?”

The answer sat on the tip of his tongue.

Everything
.

He dropped onto his couch. “No,” he said and then realized that was another lie. Where to begin? “Well, yes…”

“We never got to say goodbye to Dylan after the award ceremony.”

A wry smile crept up his face. Sometimes his mother’s obtuse nature in regards to social cues could be an advantage. Fortunately, his mother remained blissfully unaware that her question to Dylan had been a catalyst for disaster. A disaster of Alec’s own making, of course.

Her words had simply lit the fuse to the bomb he’d built.

Phone pressed to his ear, he propped his elbows on his knees. “Technically, Dylan’s not my boyfriend.” He paused for a moment to let the confession sink in before forcing himself to go on. “I asked him to pretend.”

“I don’t understand.” The background shuffle of papers ended, his mother most likely blinking furiously as she tried to process the news. “Why would you pretend you were serious about Dylan?”

“I’m not pretending. I
am
serious about Dylan.” He’d never been more serious about anything in his life. Attempting to rub the furrows from his brow, he stared down at his bare feet, toes buried in the thick carpet. “He’s just not my boyfriend.”

The MD behind his name might stand for Massively Deluded, but one-way relationships were beyond even his delusional capabilities.

When she didn’t respond, he went on. “I know you envisioned Tyler and me married. And I hate to disappoint you, but—”

“There’s still a chance Tyler will choose to come back.”

Alec closed his eyes. He could keep his mouth shut. Keeping the truth to himself would certainly make this conversation easier. But he’d been doing exactly that for years, trying to ease things between him and his mother, between him and the rest of the world. And he couldn’t continue to hide those bits of himself, the most
important
bits, just to keep everyone happy.

“Tyler already asked me back, and I said no.”

The silence from the other end of the phone pressed in on his chest.

When his mother finally spoke, he could sense her deep disappointment. “Why?”

“Because I’m in love with Dylan.”

“But the two of you aren’t even in a relationship.”

A bitter scoff escaped, and Alec curled his toes deeper into the carpet. “I love you, Mom. And I appreciate all your efforts on my behalf. I really do. But…” He swallowed, forcing the words he should have said out loud years ago. “I can’t live my life trying to please you.”

“Alec.” His mother’s pause felt like forever. “You are better suited to marriage than most people I know. I worked hard to overturn DOMA and Proposition 8 because I wanted you happy.”

“No, you wanted
you
happy.”

Alec slammed his lids closed. He hadn’t meant to be so blunt. Silence came from the other end of the phone, and he could picture his mother, that blank look on her face. A familiar guilt stabbed at Alec.

But he couldn’t continue to let a sense of obligation rule his decisions.

“And I’m tired of feeling pressured to be your version of the perfect gay male,” he said.

Christ, unloading those words felt good.

“I want to share my life with Dylan, yes,” Alec said. “But I think you want me
married
because you feel a ring on my finger makes my being gay a little more acceptable.”

“I…” A hush followed. “You…”

Alec let out a sigh, the uncomfortable pause answer enough. He’d struck gold with his words.

“I’m your mother, and I love you.”

“I know.”

“And I have absolutely nothing against homosexuals.”

“I
know
.”

Her tone defensive, she went on. “The gay community has come a long way, but that doesn’t mean the prejudice has ended. Legitimizing your relationship—”

“What the world thinks about my personal relationship is not my problem.”

And wasn’t that the crux of the issue? Taking other people’s ideals—his mother’s, society’s, even the gay community’s—and letting them affect his decisions? He’d attended medical school because he wanted to practice medicine, but he’d been an overachiever to please his parents. He’d bypassed private practice and opened the clinic because he’d seen a need, but he knew the decision would make his family proud. And while he was thrilled the award money would expand the clinic’s reach, the prestige had meant nothing to him…outside of satisfying his parents and hopefully reflecting well on the LGBTQ community.