During last month’s discussion about the Front Street Clinic Residential Fund, the plan to meet Tyler and Noah here had seemed reasonable. In general, Noah supplied the refreshments and sarcastic comments while Noah and Tyler went over the next phase of their plans. But with recent events, namely Alec’s decision to ignore Noah’s initial advice about sleeping with Dylan, the location now proved tricky. Not only was Alec through listening to Noah’s lectures, he’d spent a good part of the week ignoring the man’s fundraiser-related texts as well.
Alec used to drop everything when something needed to be done in regards to fighting Proposition 8 or supporting the housing fund. In retrospect, he realized his schedule had been kind of pathetic. Now that he’d gotten a taste of enjoying his motorcycle and Dylan—and life—he felt less eager to be so blindly available.
He texted Dylan back.
B there ASAP.
As he approached Noah’s door, Alec cracked his neck to relieve the tension, every muscle sore in a way only a week’s worth of sexual activities could produce. A few bruises in the form of fingerprints marked Alec’s wrists. The rug burn on his ass chafed beneath his briefs and left him questioning his brand of fabric softener. But Alec enjoyed the reminders of Dylan’s ruggedly raw…enthusiasm.
Two Sundays ago, Alec had spent all of five seconds considering calling things off again and giving himself hell for landing back in bed with Dylan.
While Alec had no doubt Dylan’s actions that Saturday night had been partially fueled by a fit of melancholy, the man’s attitude afterward had been reassuring. The ride back down to San Francisco had been spectacular, with nothing but clear skies and friendly company. Dylan had returned to his usual easy, relaxed state. He’d continued a hands-off attitude in public, but his behavior and his occasional reassuring wink reaffirmed that the two of them were definitely on more solid ground.
After that, ending things had felt impossible.
As a friend, Dylan made Alec happy. They had sex. Brain-meltingly hot sex. A bonus with the potential for serious complications for sure. Maybe the decision to stick with Dylan made no sense. Maybe Alec was setting himself up for an even bigger fall than before. Because who knew where this crazy relationship would wind up? For once in his life, he’d made a firm decision not to care.
Alec came to a halt in front of the condo and rang the doorbell. Gearing up for the upcoming encounters, he squared his shoulders and gave himself a swift mental kick in the ass.
He heard footsteps and tugged his sleeves to cover the marks on his wrist. Get in. Discuss the next fundraiser. Get out.
Should be simple.
Noah opened the door. “There you are.”
Well, simple except for two things. He had to endure the tension between him and Tyler and deal with Noah, the one who couldn’t seem to comprehend that Alec had finally gone out and found a life.
Refusing to feel guilty, Alec gripped his coffee cup more firmly. “Of course I’m here.” Alec passed his friend and entered the foyer.
“You’ve been avoiding me all week,” Noah said. “And you were supposed to call last night to discuss this meeting.”
Mind searching for a believable excuse, Alec could feel Noah’s eyes on him as he entered the living room done in muted gold and russet, the furniture and decor reflecting his friend’s expensive tastes. Tyler sat on an overstuffed couch in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking San Francisco Bay. Alec headed for the matching loveseat.
No sense lying because he sucked at it. “I was busy, Noah.”
Busy learning that Dylan did indeed like sex. Lots of sex.
Alec dropped onto the cushion and a stab of pain shot up his ass, a reminder to be careful. He went to shift into a more comfortable position and then noticed Tyler watching, his eyes narrowed. So Alec made a show of placing his latte on the coffee table next to a platter with crackers and cheese.
Focusing on the reason for the meeting seemed Alec’s best hope of getting out of here in a reasonable time frame. “How much do we have in the building fund anyway?”
Tyler reached for his computer, powering up his laptop. “I can tell you in a second.”
“Correct me if I’m wrong.” Noah leaned against the doorjamb, eyes on Alec. “But I believe you agreed to print out a financial report before this meeting.”
“I forgot,” Alec said. “I do have a life outside of work and this project of ours, Noah.”
Skeptical lines bracketed Noah’s eyes. “Since when?”
“Since DOMA died and Alec and I broke up,” Tyler said.
Alec tried, but failed, to ascertain if his ex’s statement held any subtext or not. Since the party, they’d generally tried to avoid each other. The constant, low-grade tension was beginning to wear Alec out.
Noah stared at Alec. “Which doesn’t explain why you didn’t return my message yesterday.”
“Which one of the eight messages are you referring to?” Alec said drily.
“Eight in one day?” Tyler looked up from his laptop. “Sounds like it’s time to have Noah’s number blocked.”
Alec couldn’t be sure, but the crack from Tyler felt like support.
Noah tossed Tyler a tolerant look, finally crossing into the living room. “I purchased these crackers just for you, Tyler, despite the fact they appear to have been made out of birdseed. Don’t make me toss them out the window.”
Tyler concentrated on his computer. “You know you love me, Noah.”