Dylan gripped the same whiskey he’d been nursing since the kiss that had kicked him in the ass. He longed to slug the rest back, along with about twenty more. But someone had to remain in control because Alec looked totally buzzed. Correction, Alec seemed a stone’s throw away from sloppy.
Served Dylan right for being so spiteful. If he hadn’t felt the need to put Tyler in his place, Dylan wouldn’t have deepened the kiss and—
Jesus, who was he trying to convince here?
Dylan knew his time on the streets had honed his abilities as a master bullshitter, but bullshitting himself was another thing.
Since Alec had bitten Dylan’s lip, Dylan had been fighting to recover from the nip that had taken the moment from surprisingly hot to not nearly enough. And just when Dylan had decided he was okay with how the whole thing went down—cuz, really, what choice did he have?—and was ready to act as if everything was normal, Alec had headed straight for the kitchen.
And then Tyler had followed Alec.
For a second Dylan hadn’t known what to feel, the thoughts bumping around as if the gears in his brain had been stripped. A part of him had been happy for Alec, glad his friend might be winning back the man he’d lost. But another part of him had been friggin’ annoyed.
He pushed the feelings away. Time for a reality check.
There were friends, like Noah, and now Alec. And then there was sex, provided by women, a mutually satisfying exchange of the baser needs in life. Dylan liked sex. Lots of it. And he carefully selected companions who wanted the same and nothing more.
Dylan didn’t know a thing about dealing with exes because he’d happily managed to avoid anything remotely resembling a relationship. A status he had every intention of maintaining, thankyouverymuch. Five years later and Noah still hadn’t recovered from losing Rick. Alec looked miserable and uncomfortable around Tyler.
Who needed that kind of grief?
And while Dylan had been thrown off kilter by the scene in the kitchen, never mind the lingering effects of the kiss, it appeared his newfound friend was no better off. After reentering the living room, Alec had headed straight for the bar and tossed back a shot of tequila.
Followed by three more.
With every drink Alec had gotten a little looser, until his demeanor was way too relaxed. So Dylan had corralled him in a corner, successfully keeping the guy away from most of the guests. Alec was leaning against Dylan pretty heavily now, and Noah was currently shooting Dylan heated questions with his eyes—as if he blamed the current fucked-up state of affairs on Dylan.
“See?” Beaming, the doctor threw his arm around Dylan’s neck, pulling him closer. “I can’t keep my eyes off of you. How am I doing?”
Try as he might, Dylan couldn’t pry his gaze from Alec’s lips. Dylan wasn’t going to waste time lying to himself anymore. The man had a fucking beautiful mouth, especially when it looked like it had at the end of their kiss, roughed up, red, and spit slicked…
Dylan briefly pressed his lids closed. “You’re doing great,” he murmured.
Although Alec felt a little too close for comfort.
And while he’d hoped the kiss would feel dry and papery—and less than inspiring—he hadn’t seriously contemplated his world reversing course on its axis.
Arm around Dylan’s neck, Alec snuggled his head into the crook of Dylan’s neck and let out a sigh. Dylan was considering what to do about the current predicament when Alec’s free hand cupped Dylan’s ass, sending sparks dancing across his skin.
Man, he’d created a monster.
“Ya know,” Alec said, his words slightly slurred as Dylan discreetly pulled Alec’s hand from his butt, “this party turned out a whole lot better than I’d expected.”
“I should get you home,” Dylan said.
“Excellent idea.”
Alec’s smoldering look made Dylan nervous.
Before Dylan could decide what to do next, Alec clutched the front of Dylan’s shirt, pulling him in the direction of the foyer.
Leaving. Yep, leaving would definitely be good.
Hoping to make an exit with as little attention as possible, Dylan simply trailed behind. The crowd in the living room had grown, yet Alec managed to thread his way through without stepping on toes or tripping over shoes. When they exited the living room, Dylan spied Tyler and his boyfriend in the foyer.
Crap.
With Alec in his current condition, passing those two would mean trouble for sure. A few drinks and the normally mild-mannered Dr. Alec Johnson became very outspoken. And kinda handsy. Dylan pulled Alec’s palm from his chest and linked their fingers together, hoping to keep them from wandering to more inappropriate areas.
While Dylan eyed the space between the front door and Tyler, sizing up the distance and trying to decide how best to escape, Noah arrived from the kitchen, stopping at Tyler’s side.
Fuck.