“Last I checked”—Dylan hiked a brow—“life was rarely easy.”
The mud in Alec’s chest grew thicker, and each breath seemed to meet resistance.
“Your parents already know you’re gay.” Dylan crossed his arms, lips pursed in thought. He looked disturbed. “So what kind of closet are you hiding in now?”
Heat flushed up Alec’s neck. “Not funny, Dylan.”
Dylan stared at Alec. “Who’s laughing?”
The tension in the room climbed several hundred degrees, and the mud in Alec’s chest turned to concrete.
“Do you have a problem with the idea?” Alec asked.
“I’m not thrilled about lying to your parents,” Dylan said.
“You didn’t have a problem with lying before.”
“You’re ex was acting like an asshole. I’ve never even met your parents.”
Guilt simmered in Alec’s veins. Dylan, as his significant other, would definitely take the pressure off. But, God help him, Alec longed for the situation to be true. He craved some sort of sign that, with time, Dylan would come around. But Dylan appeared to be happy with continuing as is.
And while Alec had originally mustered the patience required to give Dylan time to adjust, suddenly Alec’s ability had run out.
“I’m asking you as a favor, Dylan,” Alec said.
“Fine,” Dylan said with a nod. “I’ll play the boyfriend again.” He settled back in his chair with a smirk any other time Alec would find sexy. “Though I think I should be getting something in return.”
“I thought you were getting some on a regular basis,” Noah said.
Face hot, Alec fought the urge to close his eyes, disregarding Noah and addressing Dylan instead. “Something in return? Like what?”
“Something sexual,” Noah murmured.
Christ. Where was the muzzle when you needed one?
Dylan picked up on Alec’s agenda, also ignoring Noah. “A home-cooked dinner that includes meat, every night for the next two weeks.”
Noah’s amused gaze darted between Dylan and Alec. “How domestic.”
This time Dylan shot Noah a look before reaching for the serving spoon.
Dylan dished up eggplant Parmesan onto three plates before addressing Alec. “But we need to get the PDA clarified up front.”
Confused, Alec tipped his head.
“I can do an arm around the shoulders.” Dylan placed food in front of Noah and Alec. “But only while seated at a table.” He cocked a brow at Alec. “And ass grabbing is out of the question.”
“Someone should be writing this down.” Noah pulled his phone from his pocket, his fingers flying across the tiny keyboard. “Is kissing acceptable?”
Dylan frowned in concentration as he served himself food. “Depends.”
“Tongue?” Noah asked.
“Hell no. And handholding is out.” Dylan pointed his plate Alec. “I do not hold hands.” He set his food down.
“Footsies?” Noah asked.
Dylan’s mouth quirked. “Footsies will be extra.”
“How much extra?” A spark glimmered in Noah’s eyes.
Alec bit his tongue, dying to tell his friend to quit encouraging the ridiculous discussion. Dylan pursed his lips in thought again—lips that, less than an hour ago, had been wrapped around Alec, pulling the most obscene noises from his mouth. Like a stupid fool, Alec had ended with the words I love you.
Dear God, he couldn’t breathe.
Dylan dug his fork into his food. “Like lemon-meringue-pie extra.”
Watching Dylan attack dinner with his usual gusto was satisfying and felt comfortable, familiar and strangely reassuring. Alec concentrated on the fact that Dylan hadn’t run off. He was still here, in Alec’s house.
Which meant Alec still had a fighting chance.
“Lemon meringue pie it is,” Alec said.
“Perfect. I’ll send you both a copy of the agreement.” Noah’s lips quirked in amusement. “Just so we’re all on the same page.”
Alec narrowed his eyes at the man. He should have poisoned Noah’s food when he had the chance.
“And for the record…” Dylan pointed his fork in Alec’s direction. “I will not discuss linens or patterns or whatthefuckever domestic issues with your mother.”
“Trust me, Dylan,” Noah said dryly as he set down his phone and picked up his drink, “you’d be better served brushing up on your nanotechnology.”
Dylan’s eyebrows scrunched together. “Nano-fucking-whatology?”
Alec closed his eyes. Christ, this was going to be a disaster.
~~~***~~~
The night of the awards ceremony, Dylan stood beside Alec’s mother and tried to decide whether to be amused or alarmed.
Eventually he settled on both.
He’d been so sure this backup-boyfriend gig would be easier the second time around. But, for some reason, Dr. Emily Johnson, sure to be the next brainiac cast on The Big Bang Theory, had decided to attach herself to Dylan for the night.