All because of Alec’s big. Rambling. Mouth.
Fear settled deep, oozing out his pores. He’d wigged Dylan out but good, and Alec had two choices. He could pretend he hadn’t meant the words or explain that he did, which had a 99.9% likelihood of pushing Dylan away.
Neither option felt possible.
Mind churning, Alec gradually became aware of voices coming from just beyond the kitchen. And only one person would drop by unannounced.
Alec pushed aside the churning thoughts and picked up the eggplant Parmesan—Christ, as if dinner could be used as a shield—and headed into the dining room. He spied Noah, drink in hand, leaning against the wall chatting with Dylan.
Noah caught sight of Alec. “I saved dinner from burning, so I should be allowed to join you in reward for my impeccable timing.”
Alec murmured an agreement as he set the dish on the table, too caught up in the way Dylan avoided his gaze to tell Noah the timing couldn’t have been any worse. Dylan distributed napkins to the three place settings as though the furniture would explode if not done just right.
This from a man who’d just as soon wipe his mouth on his sleeve.
Because he lacked anything brilliant to say, Alec nodded at Noah’s glass. “What’s the beverage of the day?”
“Mojitos.” With a huge smile, Noah lifted his drink of lime, mint, and citron vodka in a toast. “I just booked my tickets to South Beach for the Winter Party Festival. You should come with, Dylan.”
“I don’t know, Noah,” Dylan said as he began to place silverware on the table. “I prefer something a little dressier than running around in nothing but a speedo and a dog collar.”
Noah took a seat at the dining room table. “So says the man who thinks a black tie event refers to the color of the shoelaces in his work boots.”
“Parties aren’t my thing,” Dylan said.
Dylan turned to squat in front of the china cabinet, gathering plates. Damn it, he still hadn’t looked Alec in the eyes. But Alec had to ask.
“I was hoping you’d come to the awards ceremony,” Alec said, addressing Dylan’s back.
Dylan didn’t turn around. “’Course I’ll be there. What kind of guy misses out on his friend’s big day?”
The knot in Alec’s stomach grew larger. The use of the word friend hardly made him feel better, Dylan’s manner too evasive for comfort. Clearly he’d gone with option A: ignore Alec had confessed he’d fallen for Dylan in a big way.
“I was hoping you’d attend as more than just as a friend,” Alec added.
Breath stuck in his throat, he waited for Dylan’s response.
Dylan paused in the task of stacking plates, looking over his shoulder with a frown. “You need another pretend date?”
All the blood in Alec’s head drained to his toes. He dropped into a seat at the table before his legs gave way. Several seconds passed in what could only be describe as stunned silence. Noah finally swiveled his confused gaze from Dylan’s broad back to where Alec sat. Clearly his friend was wondering what the hell was going on, blissfully ignorant of Dylan’s reluctance to discuss what their situation meant.
And totally unaware of the “I love you” that might kill this thing before even being declared a relationship.
“I’m confused,” Noah said with a puzzled tone. “Aren’t you two—?”
Alec shook his head slightly, insisting with his eyes that Noah not. Go.
There.
Noah opened his mouth, apparently to go there anyway, and Alec hurried to speak first. “My parents are coming to the award ceremony, and Logan will be out of town.”
“What’s that got to do with me pretending we’re dating?” Dylan asked.
Alec fought back the bitter bark of laughter. They’d eaten dinner together every evening since the poker run. Dylan had spent seven of the past seven nights in Alec’s bed. At this point the only thing missing was Dylan’s name on Alec’s mailbox.
“Without someone running interference, my mother will spend the night trying to convince me and Tyler to get back together,” Alec said. “She’s pretty clueless in social situations.” Completely clueless would be a better description. “But if you’re there as my date, she’ll know enough not to push.”
Without comment, Dylan rose to his feet, set the plates on the table, and slid into the chair beside Noah.
Alec knew he shouldn’t let the choice bother him. He knew he should let the seating arrangement roll off his back, but the position rankled. Dylan purposely chose to place them at a distance when other people were around, even in front of Noah—a man well aware that Dylan had sex with Alec every chance he got. Worse, Dylan steadfastly chose to play dumb about Alec’s moment of weakness when he’d confessed all.
Mud filled Alec’s chest again.
“Seems like a whole lot of effort to avoid a simple conversation,” Dylan said.
“You don’t know my mother.” Alec’s lips gave a wry quirk. “It’s just to make the night easier.”