Chris pulled Ant aside as soon as the group convened in the lobby. “Please tell me you have good news.”

Ant grimaced. “Not so much.”

Chris grabbed his arm, dragging him a few feet from the loose gathering of their friends. It didn’t go unnoticed as Brad half-turned to watch them.

“What did you find out?” Chris asked.

Ant didn’t answer immediately. He was trying to decide which piece of bad news to deliver first. He’d been remembering bits and pieces of the night before, but nothing helpful, and he’d never found an opportunity to do much more than a Google web search for information about annulment. So, now he had to tell Chris about the reality of the wedding rings without offering anything positive to offset it.

Chris snapped his fingers. “Ant! Focus. We need to talk about this annulment.”

Ant rubbed his ring finger. “We’ve got bigger fish to fry right now.”

“How’s that possible?”

“Hold that thought,” Ant muttered as Brad strolled over, slinging an arm around each of them.

“You two are getting cozy.”

Brad knew very well that Ant would like nothing better. He’d had to come clean to Brad, swearing on his life he’d never hurt Chris, to get the greenlight for this trip. But the dude could be subtler. No, wait. This was Brad. He didn’t do subtle.

When neither Chris nor Ant responded, Brad shook them playfully. “Okay, play it coy,” he said. “I’m thinking drinks, dinner, and another show.”

Ant seized on the first excuse that came to mind. “You’re right, Brad. Chris and I have been catching up on old times this weekend.”

“No, we haven’t,” Chris said, shooting Ant a dark look.

“I was thinking we should go to dinner, just the two of us,” Ant continued. Fortune favored the brave, they said. He hoped that old edict held true because Chris looked murderous. “We have a few things to work out.” He lifted his eyebrows, waiting for Chris to catch on. “About our relationship status.”

Brad made a high-pitched sound, and Chris held up a hand. “There is no relationship status,” he said firmly. But then he exhaled, and his defiance escaped with his breath. “But we can have dinner as friends.”

“Friendship is a relationship,” Brad sing-songed. “In fact, you wouldn’t be the first friends to become lovers.”

Chris rolled his eyes. “Yeah, well, we’re not you and Riley or Harry and Bret.” He turned to Ant. “I need to go shower. I feel like I’ve done nothing but sweat all day.”

“Stop flirting with me,” Ant teased. “I don’t need to hear about how I make you all hot and sweaty.”

Brad laughed, delighted, while Chris was less impressed.

“Catch you guys later,” Chris said.

Brad grinned. “Sure, but I expect to see both of you later tonight. No ditching me for fun and games again.”

Chris took off, and Ant had to jog across the lobby to catch him at the elevator. They stepped into the crowded box, ending up on opposite sides.

As the floors went by, other passengers stepped off until it was just them and one woman in a tight, form-fitting dress that stopped mid-thigh.

She moved closer to Ant. “Enjoying your stay in Vegas?”

“Yeah, it’s been an adventure,” he said, glancing over at Chris. He didn’t smile, but Ant could see the hint of amusement in his eyes. As if he were thinking, major understatement.

“Ah yes, well, what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas, hmm? That’s our motto for a reason.”

“If only,” Chris murmured.

She ignored Chris, placing a hand on Ant’s forearm. “If you’re looking for new experiences during your stay, there are many options,” she said.

Startled, he took in her carefully applied makeup — tasteful, but thorough — the short dress, the manicured nails. Then the business card she extended to him, including a phone number.

“Oh, uh …”

Ant floundered for a response, trying to wrap his head around prostitution that came with business cards. He definitely wasn’t in the Midwest anymore.

He glanced down at the card, reading the name printed in lipstick red type.

“Thanks, Marissa.”

The elevator came to a stop on the tenth floor. “This is my floor.” She smiled back at him. “Have a very good evening.”

When the doors closed again, Chris turned to him. “Fish to fry?”

Ant blinked. “Huh?”

Chris huffed. “You mentioned we have bigger fish to fry than an annulment? I’d like to know how that’s possible.”

“Oh, uh… right.”

Chris laid his hand on Ant’s arm, in the exact same place Marissa had touched him. He stepped in close and lowered his voice. “Bryant, I need to know something.”

Ant shivered as his full name slipped from Chris’s lips. Virtually no one called him Bryant, but hearing Chris say it in that low, sexy tone fired up all his nerves.

“Hmm?” he asked, unable to find his words.

“Are you bisexual? Or do you just really like people in your personal space?”

Ant blinked. “Uh, what?”

Chris drew back, laughing. “God, you’re ridiculous. You let an escort get you all worked up.”

It’s not the escort getting me worked up.

Ant shifted uncomfortably. “I’m not into women. She just surprised me.”

Chris rolled his eyes. “Likely story.”

The elevator came to a stop, this time on their floor, and Ant followed Chris to his door. After pulling out his keycard, Chris paused. “If you’re following me to my room in hopes of some action, that ship sailed last night.”

That was sad news.

“Nah. Bigger fish to fry, remember?”

Instead of going inside, Chris turned, leaning back against the door. “Tell me about these fish.”

Ant glanced down the hallway. He would have preferred to hold this conversation in the privacy of Chris’s room, but they were alone for the moment.

It’s like a bandage, Ant. Just rip it off.

“Remember those rings we had on?” he asked.

Or, you know, be a coward and take the scenic route to the truth. That works, too.

Chris’s gaze shot to Ant’s now-bare finger. “You got yours off. That’s a relief.”

“Well, yeah. But Chris, have you thought at all about where we might have gotten those rings?”

Chris blinked. “Not really. I was too busy freaking out over the fact we were wearing them. I assumed we bought them somewhere. God, don’t tell me they were super pricy or something.”

“Worse,” Ant said. “I think they’re Brad and Riley’s.”

Chris clapped a hand over his mouth. He couldn’t hide the horror in his eyes.

“Mine had an inscription inside,” Ant continued. “No way we would have gone to those lengths if we’d bought something cheap.”

Chris lowered his hand. “Oh, God. How does this keep getting worse?”

He looked sick. Ant placed hands on his shoulders. “Just breathe. It’s going to be okay. I promise, whatever happens, everything is going to be okay.”

Chris sucked in a deep breath. Then exhaled. Breathed in. Breathed out.

“I’m overreacting,” he said in a shaky voice.

“Yes,” Ant said gently.

“There are people starving, losing their homes and their jobs. So, you know, using my best friends’ rings to marry a guy I don’t like doesn’t rank very high in world problems.”

“And you’re insulting me again. There’s the Chris I know.”

Chris winced. “Sorry. My brain-to-mouth filter must be on the fritz.”

“A good shock will do that to you. Listen, man. This isn’t a crisis. We have the rings, right? We just return them.”

Chris nodded. “Right. Good. That’s good.”

“So, I can get my ring from my room. Where’s yours?”

Chris bit his lip. “I don’t know. In my room somewhere?”

“Then I guess we better look for it.” Ant took the keycard from Chris’s shaky hand and nudged him aside to unlock the door.

Chris stepped inside his room and stared blankly at the tidy space. The cleaning service had come by and gotten rid of the mess of empty bottles, chip bags, and other trash they’d strewn around during their all-nighter. The bed was neatly made, a looming presence screaming, “You slept here with Ant!”

Ant stepped past him, walking over to a small table and chair in the corner. “Do you remember where you last had the ring?”

“On my finger.”

Ant glanced back at him. “Yeah, I meant after that, genius.”

Chris flipped him off while he thought it over. “You were there too. You don’t remember where I put it?”

“No.”

“Stop giving me grief, then,” Chris said as he slid open the bedside table drawer. No ring, but now he knew where to look if he wanted to order room service. He closed the drawer.

“Dude, you sucked my finger. I have a good excuse for not remembering anything.”

That’s right. They’d been standing by the bed. Chris had slid off his ring, but Ant’s had stuck. He’d grabbed Ant’s hand and used his mouth to try to get his finger slippery.

His cheeks heated. What the fuck had he been thinking? Maybe he’d still been a bit drunk even then.

“Chris?”

Ant’s voice next to his ear made him jump.

“Just thinking it through. We were next to the bed,” Chris said.

“Okay, let’s start there.”

Ant dropped down to his hands and knees. Tilting down until his chest was flush with the floor, he peered under the bed. Like most hotels, it had about a foot of space before there was a solid frame that went to the floor, keeping things from being lost too far underneath it.

Ant’s position pushed his ass into the air. He wasn’t wearing tight clothes, but it was impossible not to see the shape of his ass in the clingy nylon fabric of those god-awful shorts he wore.

Chris stared, wondering how one person packed so much muscle into just one part of their body, much less all the others. Chris had never been able to accomplish much other than to exhaust himself when lifting weights. Ant had offered to train him, saying that he merely needed to understand the best strategy and results for his body type, but that was before their fifth and final date. Chris doubted he’d ever be the model weight-lifting student, even if everything hadn’t gone wrong between them.

“Nothing on this side,” Ant said.

Chris jerked his gaze away. Right, looking for a wedding ring, not drooling over Ant’s ass. Chris hurried around the other side of the bed and checked quickly.

“Not here either.”

He stood and together they glanced down at the perfectly made bed. “You did push me to sit down on the bed while I was freaking out, right?”

Ant nodded. “I give good pep talks. Kind of a required skill when trying to encourage a person to add one more rep when their muscles are burning like hell.”

Ant flexed his muscles, and Chris rolled his eyes. “Time to exercise your brain, not your brawn. If you—”

“I have a brain,” Ant cut in sharply.

“I know. I was going to say, ‘If you could grab that side, I’ll grab this one.’ We can search the bed.”

“Oh. Yeah, let’s do it.”

Ant gripped the comforter in one fist and drew it down as Chris tugged the other side. Methodically they stripped off the second blanket and then the sheet, shaking out each linen by the foot of the bed with the hope a ring would fall free. When that didn’t get a result, Chris picked up a pillow to check under and around it, then stuck his hand inside the pillow case to feel around for anything hard.

Ant mirrored his actions. “I do, though. Have a brain.”

Chris nodded. “I’ve never thought you were dumb. Vain, maybe.”

“Nah, not really,” Ant said. “I front, just like everyone else. We all have insecurities.”

“Like you being sensitive about your intelligence?”

Ant tossed down his pillow. “I’m not insecure about that. Just wanted you to know I’m smart as well as sexy.”

“And you’re not vain?”

Ant laughed. “Where else could this ring be? After the pep talk we got dressed, right?”

Chris crossed to the closet and dug through his suitcase while Ant watched.

“I’m a teacher, you know,” Ant said.

Chris felt through each exterior pocket of the suitcase, although he thought he’d remember putting the ring there. Then again, he hadn’t been thinking straight that morning.

“Yeah, you teach weight training,” he said, distracted as he closed the suitcase to drag it out of the closet and search the floor.

“Nah. I mean, I do that. But I’m also a schoolteacher.”

That got Chris’s attention. He paused, looking up at Ant, who seemed oddly vulnerable. Taking in Ant’s built physique, Chris tried to picture him at the front of a classroom. He could almost see him coaching a sport, but teaching?

“What grade?”

“Second.”

“Grade school?” Chris was dumbfounded. “You’re telling me that you, man of the bulging biceps and giant pecs, teach young children?”

“Yes,” Ant said. “Like I said, I have brains and brawn.”

“Wow. That’s ...”

“Boring,” Ant said. “Teaching little kids doesn’t scream sex appeal. Which is why I stick to weight training when going out with a man I want to impress.” He rubbed a hand at the back of his neck, which Chris noticed was turning red. “And I really wanted to impress you.”

Chris stood, satisfied the ring was not in the closet. He met Ant’s gaze, shaking his head. “Seriously? I never would have thought it was boring.”

“No?”

“Intelligence is attractive.”

“Maybe on you.”

Chris laughed. “I don’t know why you think I’m smart. I work in retail.”

“You work in management, and you’re interested in things like foreign movies and art.”

“No, I feel like I should be interested in those things. I front just as much as you do. I don’t want to be boring either.”

Ant chuckled. “Damn, we’re a pair. Were we honest about anything when we were dating?”

Chris’s chest tightened as the memory slammed into him.

“I’m famished,” Ant said. “I swear I could eat a horse right now.”

“Tough day at the gym?” Chris teased. “Better feed those muscles of yours. I bet there’s a nice big steak in here with your name on it.”

“Mmm,” he said. “You have my number.”

“Besides,” Chris said, leaning in. “You’re going to need your strength tonight.”

Heat sparked in Ant’s eyes. “Is that right?”

Chris licked his lips, knowing exactly what it would do to Ant. “I’m tired of waiting, and I think you’ll find I’m very ... demanding in—”

“Ant?”

A high-pitched voice interrupted Chris’s attempt to be sexy. Ant’s turned-on expression gave way to one of horrified surprise.

“Raul?”

A gorgeous Latino man with delicate features stood next to their table, his eyes sparking with fury.

“You two-timing dick!” Raul screeched, throwing a glass of red wine in Ant’s face.

Chris gasped, hands flying up to cover his mouth as Raul raged at Ant, tears streaming down his cheeks. “How could you do this to me? You said you loved me, and now you’re seeing other men?”

Ant was too busy swiping wine from his eyes and fumbling with a cloth napkin to dry his face to answer.

“You broke my heart,” Raul said in a trembling voice. “You really did.”

Then he turned to Chris. “Don’t trust him. If he says he cares, don’t believe it for a second.”

“Chris?” Ant said now, interrupting his unpleasant stroll down memory lane.

“The bathroom. Let’s look there,” Chris said, charging ahead.

“I know what you think,” Ant persisted as Chris moved aside toiletries and hand soaps to search the space around the sink. “I’m not a cheater.”

“I know what I saw,” Chris muttered while attempting to pry the stopper from the sink.

“I don’t think that comes out.”

Chris stared at him, confused as he tried to make that statement fit with their conversation. Then Ant pointed to the sink stopper. “They make it so things can’t be lost down the sink.”

Chris moved to the bathtub-shower combo, checking shelves for shampoo and conditioner, but nothing was there.

“You never let me tell my side of the story.”

“I didn’t want to hear it,” Chris said. “I’ve been with guys like you before.”

Ant crossed his arms. “Guys like me?”

“They say it’s not what it looks like. The other guy is just crazy or jealous, right?” Ant’s jaw tightened as Chris looked at him. “See? I don’t need to hear your story. I’ve heard it before.”

Ant dropped his arms to his sides with a sigh. His shoulders slumped, his entire posture screaming defeat.

“So, explaining what really happened that night won’t change anything? You’ll never believe me.”

Chris hesitated. “I don’t know. I wish I could just believe you. It’d be easier.”

“Would it?” Ant asked. “I think that’s a cop-out. If you believed me, you’d have to consider giving me another chance, and that scares the hell out of you.”

Chris frowned, dropping his gaze to the floor. He couldn’t completely reject Ant’s words. Love was scary and painful, and Chris was done trying to crack the code to a successful relationship. Ant the lying cheater was easy to push away, but Ant as an honest guy who genuinely liked Chris? That would be a lot tougher to resist.

“Maybe you’re right,” Chris murmured.

Ant sighed. “Chris—”

“What’s that?” Chris interrupted, dropping to his knees. Something shiny glinted under the edge of the bathroom cabinet. He leaned forward to snatch it from the tile and hold it up.

“Found it!”

Ant dropped down beside Chris, slumping against the sink cabinet. “Thank fuck.”

Chris held up the ring, examining the inscription. “Definitely Brad’s ring. I can’t believe you got either of them on your huge fingers.”

Ant wiggled the fingers in question, but he didn’t joke or flirt about that comment, as he once might have. Chris’s refusal to give him a fair hearing still stung. All the worse because Chris was right about what that story would be. Raul was jealous and unstable. But that didn’t mean Ant’s story wasn’t true. Only that Chris was unlikely to believe him.

If he was going to have another chance with Chris, he’d have to find a new approach. It galled him that Chris so easily believed he was a player, but maybe if he could earn Chris’s trust again, the stubborn man would realize he’d judged Ant unfairly.

It was a long shot, but it was all he had.

“Can I ask you something?”

Chris glanced over, so close Ant could see the varied shades of blue in his irises. One eye was darker than the other, Ant noticed, when he was looking at him from this close-up.

“What?” Chris asked.

“When we go back home, what happens then?”

“What do you mean? We’ll get the annulment. Everything goes back to normal.”

“Everything?” Ant pressed.

Chris looked confused. “I don’t know. I just want this whole mess over. Once we get the annulment, we can both move on and forget what idiots we were together.”

Like a glutton for punishment, Ant kept pushing.

“Or we could start over. Be friends again at least?”

Chris remained ominously silent.

“Or not,” Ant said, standing.

Chris scrambled to his feet, looking apologetic. “No, of course we could be friends. I’m not usually so …”

“So what?”

“I don’t know. Angry and bitter,” Chris said. “It’s just … I thought things were going to go different with us.”

“So did I,” Ant said.

They stood awkwardly gazing at each other, regret a heavy presence between them.

“What now?” Chris asked.

“Now, we get these wedding rings back where they belong so they’re ready for their real husbands. After that, we can go down to the marriage license office and see what we can sort out. With any luck, you won’t be my husband for long.”

“Some luck,” Chris murmured.