“Dude,” Dylan muttered, stepping too close for comfort.
The man’s hand settled in the small of Alec’s back, and Alec’s nervous system went berserk, snapping and sparking to life. He could practically smell the electrical fire. Christ, clearly Dylan’s presence constituted the bigger problem here.
Dylan’s forehead crinkled with concern. “Are you still hung up on Tyler?”
Alec rubbed his brow, trying to ignore Dylan’s palm along the base of his spine. “No.”
Dylan shifted another hair-raising step forward. “Then what’s wrong?”
You’re standing way. Too.
Close.
With monumental effort, Alec wrestled his biggest concern into a mental lockbox and met Dylan’s gaze, which brought to mind The Look. Unfortunately that meant problems number two through ten fell from Alec’s lips unchecked.
“Everyone here knows Tyler and I still run the clinic together,” Alec said, trying to ignore Dylan’s scent. What was that delicious smell anyway? “Most of these people are friends or donors. Some are both.” And while Tyler’s presence had at one time turned Alec into a mute fool, apparently Dylan’s proximity left him with a severe case of verbal diarrhea. “And they help keep the Front Street Clinic’s doors open, but they’re a little too interested in our breakup. I mean, way too interested. Did you see the people staring at us?”
“Alec—”
“It’s like being placed under a microscope.”
Dylan’s fingers began a soothing rub, sending seductive signals Alec knew were false, but his brain short-circuited anyway, his voice climbing an octave.
“Everyone is waiting for my reaction,” Alec went on, the words stumbling out. “Probably hoping for me to break down. And I know he knows we’re lying, Dylan. I can —”
“Stop,” Dylan said, stepping close enough to kiss.
~~~***~~~
Alec seemed incapable of stopping. All Dylan could do was watch his friend continue, that mouth moving faster and faster, desperation in his voice. Guilt settled beneath Dylan’s breastbone. The blame lay squarely on his shoulders. The whole backup boyfriend had been his idea. Alec had been awesome about facing Tyler tonight, easily holding his own with that wry sense of humor. Until Dylan opened his big, fat mouth.
If Dylan hadn’t insisted on this whole charade, Alec would be handling the party better. The feeling in Dylan’s chest responded, as if on cue, with a little protective twitch of anxiety.
Dylan tuned back in to Alec’s ramblings.
“…I see it in Tyler’s eyes. I can hear it in his tone.” Alec was really worked up now, as if the first few minutes had only been the warmup. “I can feel it in the way he looks at me. I can feel it in the way he looks at us.”
Dylan placed his hand on the wall by Alec’s head and leaned in to catch his gaze, trying to block the view of his ex. “Alec, man, you gotta relax—”
Blue eyes wide, Alec looked really agitated now. “And, Christ,” he squeaked out, literally squeaked, “what does that make me?”
Jesus, the man was going supernova.
“I’ll tell you what that makes me,” Alec said, that mesmerizing mouth moving faster. “It makes me the ditched, desperate ex-boyfr—”
Dylan did the only thing he could think of. He leaned in and kissed him.
You wanted to know how this felt.
While Dylan told the voice in his head to friggin’ shut the hell up, he realized Alec had gone completely still.
For a few heart-thudding moments, Dylan thought Alec was going to freak out, so Dylan placed his free hand on the man’s chest, confining him against the wall. Hoping to give Alec time to pull himself together. Willing his friend to calm the fuck down.
Keeping his mouth trapped against his.
Besides, Dylan had come to the party as the boyfriend. No shame in an innocent display of PDA. And when he finally allowed his brain to process the sensations darting around his nervous system, he noted how supple Alec’s lips were. How soft.
Just like he’d imagined.
Oh, man…
Their lips locked, and his pulse spiked higher, the incident lasting longer than he’d intended. Dylan had started out with the intent of a simple peck on the lips, just to put an end to Alec’s babbling and hopefully show Tyler a thing or two. And Dylan had been so caught up in congratulating himself on the brilliant idea—two birds, one fucking brilliant stone—he hadn’t considered the repercussions. He’d been too busy to listen to the thoughts whispering in his head, like his need to know how Alec tasted.
Jesus, something that he couldn’t unknow now.