Dylan turned to face forward, pretending to watch the commercial on the big screen as his heart spent several minutes knocking beneath his ribs, trying to beat some sense into him from the inside out.
Dylan was no homophobe. A number of his acquaintances were gay, a byproduct of his friendships with Noah and Rick. And those who were straight knew better than to use the words faggot or queer around Dylan.
Being touched by another man didn’t threaten Dylan’s masculinity. He knew who he was and what he liked and hadn’t really considered much outside the female persuasion. So why the confusing response to such a simple glance at his mouth?
Man, he really needed to get laid.
“You still coming to the party tomorrow night?” Alec asked.
Party?
Dylan seized the churning cauldron of his thoughts.
“Look, you really don’t have to go,” Alec said. “This whole backup boyfriend thing isn’t necessary.”
Going will be a mistake.
The words echoing in his head held an edge of concern, and Dylan gripped the handle of his mug.
Since their first motorcycle lesson, Alec had tried multiple times to talk him out of attending Noah’s party. And every time Dylan had refused. He’d originally gone along with the scenario because he’d felt compelled to come to Alec’s defense. Being bested by Tyler didn’t sit so well with Dylan either.
But the more time he spent in Alec’s company, the more important going became. He hated the thought of a miserable, speechless Alec facing his bastard of an ex and the new boyfriend alone. Someone had to be around to metaphorically kick Tyler’s ass should the need arise.
And which Alec would show up tomorrow night? The tongue-tied man from the garage? Or the easygoing, confident guy with a research fetish and shameless obsession for People magazine?
If you go, you could kiss him for real. Find out if those lips are as soft as they look.
Desperate to ease his suddenly scorched throat, Dylan picked up his mug and tossed back the rest of his beer. “I told you before, and I’ll tell you again.” He set his mug down with a determined thud, refusing to let the dumbass thoughts in his head scare him from his decision. “I’m going.” He glanced back at the burly dude with tats.
Nope. Nothing. Not a goddamn flicker.
All kissing Alec would prove was that men did nothing for him.
Dylan relaxed in his seat, finally spotting the furrow of concern on Alec’s brow.
“Listen,” Dylan said, “I’ll follow your lead. If you’re relaxed and happy, I’m relaxed and happy. No big deal.” In fact, he’d make sure it wasn’t a big deal.
Alec sent him a skeptical look. “You can keep your mouth shut if necessary?”
“Absolutely,” he lied.
Alec pursed his lips and slowly nodded. “Okay,” he said. “A little company would certainly be welcome. Tyler and I have conveniently avoided each other as much as possible. But passing him in the hallway at work and the brief meetings we’ve had so far have gone okay. Incredibly strained, but okay.”
“Sounds like we’re ready for tomorrow night then.”
Alec shot Dylan a confident smile. “I’m definitely ready.”
Chapter Five
Oh God, he was so not ready.
Like millions of downed electrical wires, Alec’s nerves crackled as he trailed Dylan down the posh hallway to Noah’s condominium. Located in Pacific Heights, Noah’s place overlooked San Francisco Bay and the Golden Gate Bridge, as exclusive as Noah’s taste in clothing. Dylan, in a surprising show of conformity, had dressed for the occasion. The sight was distracting, not to mention a complication Alec hadn’t considered when he’d assumed he was mentally prepared for tonight.
As they drew closer to the condo, the sound of laughter and muted music drifted from under Noah’s door. Dylan turned to face him and suddenly Alec needed air, so he tugged at his tie, hoping for relief.
“Quit fidgeting,” Dylan said.
“I can’t help it.”
“Dude, you have got to lighten up,” Dylan said. “You look as tense as a trip wire that’s two seconds from triggering an explosion. And remember…”
Dylan stepped forward to adjust Alec’s tie, bringing his green gaze close and those callused hands even closer. Alec wished he knew which spicy soap Dylan used, and how was relaxation even possible with Dylan around?
“Just pretend you can’t keep your eyes off of me.” Dylan gave the tie an awkward pat, his gaze shifting away as he stepped back.
Pretend. At this point Alec would hardly be pretending.
Dylan had shown up at Alec’s place wearing nice slacks, a dressy leather jacket, and a blue button-down shirt that did crazy things to the color of his eyes. Eyes that brought to mind The Look.
The moment in the bar when Alec’s brain had suffered a complete meltdown.
It was wrong, so wrong to be crushing on his new friend. Especially when said crush had Alec seeing things that weren’t there.