“Last week I explained what produces the unique sound of a Harley, starting with an explanation about the four cycles of power generation.” A faint grin slipped up Dylan’s face. “The suck, the squeeze, the bang, and the blow.”
“Sounds like my night last night.” Noah sent Dylan an innocent expression. “The suck and the squeeze were good. But the bang and the blow were phenomenal.”
“We don’t want to hear about it,” Alec said.
“Sweetie, that’s because you’re not getting laid regularly anymore.” Noah gestured at the bay window. “You live in San Francisco, for chrissakes. There’s a great big gay world out there with plenty of men to go around.” His gaze settled on Alec, his voice dropping an octave. “It’s time, Alec.”
It’s time, Alec.
The words reverberated through Alec’s head, and he shifted his attention to the window and the Harley parked in the driveway. Up until this point, he’d been avoiding Noah’s hints about moving on—the loss of a sex life the least of Alec’s problems. But, deep down, he knew Noah was referring to something more important.
Clinging to memories of better times with Tyler was fruitless, but Alec had invested two years of his life into their relationship. Two years. And letting go of his hopes for forever had proved harder than he’d ever imagined.
Noah interrupted his thoughts. “You need to start dating.”
“True,” Alec said. But after being so wrong, how could he ever trust his choice of a potential partner again? Alec pushed the thought aside. “Except now Tyler thinks I’m sleeping with Dylan.”
Noah choked on his drink, his face turning red as he struggled for breath. For a moment Alec thought he’d need to help clear his friend’s airway.
“Dylan’s as straight as they come. You can’t even get him drunk and take advantage of him.” Noah pretended to look dejected. He hadn’t earned the nickname the Diva of Drama for nothing. “Trust me, I tried and failed.”
Dylan rolled his eyes. “That was a long time ago. And we all know how much you love confusing intoxicated heterosexuals.”
“Everyone has to have a hobby. Besides, a little flirting never hurt anyone,” Noah said with a dismissive hand before he turned to Alec. “Why would Tyler think you’re sleeping with Dylan?”
“Because I told him we were,” Dylan said.
Noah gripped his glass, frozen, the only movement a slow blink of his eyelids. When he finally recovered, he dropped into a chair. “Now I’m confused.”
“Join the club,” Alec muttered.
Not that sleeping with Dylan was a repulsive idea. Who wouldn’t admire the classic good looks, killer body, and confident attitude? Dylan was daring, unapologetic, and so rough around the edges he made tree bark look like polished glass. The earthy rawness made for an impressive animal magnetism.
“What’s there to be confused about?” Dylan said. He took a pull from his bottle, his Adam’s apple doing a mesmerizing slow rise and fall. “I come to the party and pretend to be Alec’s main squeeze.”
Alec’s head pounded, the beginnings of a killer headache coming on. “You’re not really coming.”
“Hell, yeah, I am,” Dylan said in protest. “I’m not letting that asshole call me a liar and get away with it.”
“But you were lying,” Alec said.
“Hah.” Dylan pointed his bottle at Alec. “But he can’t prove that, now can he?”
Alec squeezed his forehead between his thumb and his index finger, hoping to thwart the budding migraine. My God, the man really wanted to go through with the ridiculous plan.
Alec turned to Noah. “He’s your friend. Can’t you convince him not to go?”
“Me?” Noah pressed his hand to his chest. “I wouldn’t miss this fake-homo show for all the Gucci shoes on Rodeo Drive. Besides, once Dylan Booth gets an idea in his head, the threat of hell and high water pants won’t change his mind. Hetero or not, he’ll make a fabulous backup boyfriend.”
Dylan tipped his head. “Backup boyfriend?”
“You know,” Noah said. “The boyfriend substitute, at least that’s how I use the term. He’s not a real boyfriend, just a convenience. For display purposes only. Sometimes used to make the ex jealous.”
“I don’t want to make the ex jealous,” Alec said. “That’s a junior high school move.”
“Yeah?” Dylan said drily. “Well, my inner twelve-year-old would love to see Tyler jealous.”
Noah turned his gaze to Alec. “You know how much I admire Tyler’s dedication to the Front Street Clinic.”
Alec mentally winced, but not because of the whiplash change of subject. Alec had acclimated to Noah’s hectic, non sequitur ramblings long ago. But the new topic left Alec worried what would pop from his friend’s mouth next. With Noah, danger lurked around every benign-looking corner.