Chapter 2
Austin
I stand in front of the mirror in my bedroom, adjusting my tie for the third time, my shaking fingers not doing me any favors.
Why the fuck did I let Luke talk me into this? I glance at my clock and see it’s twenty minutes before I’ll need to leave, and I still have no idea who my date is supposed to be. Every time I’ve asked in the past week, Luke has simply smirked at me and told me to trust him. And as much as I do trust my best friend, this is my fucking ex’s wedding, and I need to show up with someone gorgeous and charming, someone to show Harry fucking Sacs that I’m better off without him.
I’m still waiting for my nerves to abate enough to find his new last name funny. I’m sure I’ll get there eventually.
With a grunt of frustration, I undo my messy tie and toss it on my unmade bed, running my hands through my hair and grinding my teeth. Maybe I should skip it. When my supposed date shows up—if he shows up—I’ll tell him the whole thing was a mistake and apologize for the inconvenience. Let Luke yell at me about it tomorrow, I don’t care; I can’t face this.
There’s a knock at my door that could only be my date for the night. With one last sigh and pathetic glance in the mirror, I trudge toward the door to send the man away and enact my totally not sad plan of watching movies in my underwear for the rest of the night.
I tug the door open and suck in a surprised breath.
No way. No fucking way.
A slow smile spreads across the sweet, pink lips I’ve been fantasizing about for months. They’re a little shiny tonight, and I wonder if he’s wearing lip gloss. The insane urge to run my tongue along them to find out courses through me.
“Well, I can honestly say, I was not expecting you to be my date tonight. But it’s certainly a pleasant surprise.” Oliver’s gaze darts over me, and his eyes shimmer with interest. “You sure clean up nice. Although, I was awfully partial to the sweaty, messy look on you too.”
“Thanks,” I reply, clearing my throat and opening the door wider to let him inside, plans of calling off this date drowned out by the shock of having Oliver show up at my door to be my date to Harry’s wedding. “Wait, what the hell are you doing here?” I ask, realizing this makes no sense. Luke doesn’t know anything about Oliver. It’s not like I tell him about each of my Grindr hookups, and I know I didn’t mention this one to him.
“Going to a wedding with you according to the date order?” Oliver answers uncertainty.
“Date order?”
“Yeah, you ordered a date through Valentine’s Inc. to go to a wedding with you. And here I am, your date.”
“Valentine’s…” I let out a harsh laugh and shake my head. “My best friend ordered me a prostitute to take to Harry’s wedding?”
“Hey, excuse you, but I am not a prostitute. I fuck purely for pleasure, never for cash. I’m an escort.”
“Sorry,” I mutter awkwardly, rubbing the back of my neck and not meeting his gaze. “Listen, I’m sorry for the trouble, but I’m not so sure this wedding is a good idea. I’ll pay you still, of course.”
Oliver studies me for a few seconds, cocking his head.
“Why don’t you want to go? Was I not the date you were hoping for?” His tone is teasing, but there’s a hint of vulnerability just under the surface that makes my stomach flutter.
“That’s not it at all. You’re perfect actually—gorgeous, interesting…you’re a better date than I could’ve scrounged up for myself.”
“So, why don’t you want to go?”
I blow out a long breath, collapsing onto the couch and watching as Oliver follows me, sitting down next to me with one leg tucked up under him so he can face me.
“It’s my ex’s wedding. I don’t know why he invited me other than to rub my face in how happy he is.”
“In that case you have to go. If you don’t, he wins. You need to go and rub his face in how happy you are without him.”
“Even if it’s a lie?” I ask barely above a whisper because the words are so embarrassing.
Oliver scoots closer, putting his hand over mine.
“It doesn’t have to be a complete lie, at least for tonight. I bet we could have a lot of fun together, and he’ll see you don’t need him. We had a pretty good time together last time, didn’t we?”
Heat blooms in my cheeks, and I cast a sideways look at him. “Yeah, we did,” I agree. “You really think it’s a good idea?”
“Absolutely. We’re going to be having so much fun, everyone there will be jealous, especially your ex. But first, we need to get you a tie, I think.”
“I have one; I just couldn’t make it cooperate.”
“I’ll get it. Is it in your bedroom?”
“Yeah, first door on the right.” I point, and Oliver hops off the couch and seems to glide to my bedroom. I’ve never seen someone so graceful in my life. I find myself smiling a little at Oliver’s surety that we’ll have fun at this stupid wedding, and it’s difficult to remember for a minute why I didn’t contact him for another hookup.
He returns from the bedroom with a different tie in hand than the one I’d tossed on my bed.
“I think this one will go better,” he explains. I reach out to take it from him but instead of handing it over, he climbs onto my lap, straddling me, and loops the tie around my neck. “So, I think the way to play this is to act like we’re in a relationship. I’m thinking we’ve been together a year and live together. Obviously, we’re insanely in love and can’t keep our hands off each other. The benefit of that plan is we get to drive your ex crazy, and we get to paw at each other all night.” Oliver waggles his eyebrows as he deftly ties the tie for me, smoothing it down with one hand when he’s done and smiling at his handy work.
“Um, yeah, that sounds good,” I agree.
“Where should we say we met?” he asks. “Oh, wait, I know. You did some nude modeling for me, and I was so insane with wanting you after a few sessions, we ended up fucking right there on my paint covered drop cloth.”
I let out a startled laugh, my cock filling at the erotic scenario.
“I’ve never done nude modeling in my life. Harry would see right through that.”
“Psh, no way. You’ve grown a lot since you and Harry broke up; you have talents and hobbies he can’t even begin to imagine. You’re mysterious and thrilling now, and he’ll never get to see this side of you because he’s an idiot.”
“God that sounds nice,” I lament, feeling a bit of self-consciousness creep over me. “That guy sounds pretty fucking awesome; I wish it really was me.”
“Tonight it is, darling.” Oliver leans forward and presses his lips to mine, a slight stickiness and the flavor of strawberries lingering when he pulls away. “Sorry,” he laughs, using his thumb to wipe away the remnants of the kiss from my lips. “The only downside of lip gloss: it gets everywhere.”
“Too bad it doesn’t have a color. Imagine walking around the wedding with your lipstick smeared on my neck.” The fantasy spills from my lips and surprises me, making my cock grow even harder thinking of all the other places his lipstick could be smeared.
“That could be arranged,” he offers.
“Maybe, let’s see how things go. That’ll be our big guns if we need it.”
Oliver looks at me with a serious expression, his hands on my shoulders and his weight warm and comforting in my lap.
“You feeling okay about this? Be honest with me.”
“I’m feeling okay with it,” I assure him, and shockingly, it’s true. Somehow, I know Oliver is right. For tonight, I can be that interesting man with a fun, sexy boyfriend on my arm. And maybe this will finally be the closure I need from this whole situation.
Oliver
I smile as I climb off Austin’s lap. Seeing him on the other side of the door tonight was the last thing I was expecting, but it certainly has made this night more interesting. And watching some of the tension seep out of him with a little coaxing fills me with a sense of purpose. Whatever the story is with his ex, it was obviously one of those life defining moments for him, and if I can give him any measure of comfort and help him close the book on this one, I’ll have done my good deed for the year.
“Ready to go?” I check, holding out my hand to help him up.
“As ready as I’ll ever be,” he agrees with a sigh.
“Don’t be so gloomy. We’re going to drink like fish, make out on the dance floor, and eat free food.”
“When you put it like that…” Austin chuckles, taking my hand and standing up. It takes him a second to drop it once he’s standing, and I don’t mind. If holding my hand will get him through this night, then he can hold it all he wants. Although, I’m hoping after a few drinks, he’ll want to do more interesting things with his hands.
After a few seconds, he drops my hand and goes to a small closet next to the front door to pull out a pair of shoes. I take a second to look around his apartment, taking note of how much nicer it is than mine. He must’ve thought my place was complete trash when he came over. That’s probably why he never messaged me again.
I bristle at the thought of him judging my home, judging me just because I don’t have useless throw pillows on my couch and cheap art on my walls.
“What do you do for a living?” I ask.
“I’m in sales at a tech company. It’s not terribly exciting.”
“So why do you do it?” I pry.
Austin stops in the process of putting on his shoes, looking up at me like I’ve grown a second head.
“Because it’s what people do. You get a stupid job and work yourself to the bone so you can buy nice things to impress people you don’t give a shit about,” he answers snappishly.
“Well, that sounds pointless.”
“It’s life.”
He finishes putting his shoes on, grabs his coat from a hook inside the closet and his keys from a fancy little bowl on a table beside the door, and then he waves me out.
We’re quiet on our way down to the car. He insists on driving, and I have no objection. His car, like his apartment, is much nicer than anything I could ever hope to afford, but I don’t feel jealous. If anything, I feel bad for him. He has the life I’ve always made sure to avoid, and he doesn’t seem the least bit happy with it.
“What would you rather be doing?” I ask once we’re on the road.
“What?” He glances over at me from his place in the driver’s seat.
“If you didn’t work where you do, what would you want to do instead?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t thought too much about it. Honestly, the job itself isn’t so bad; I kind of like it if I’m being honest.”
“You didn’t sound happy,” I point out.
“Yeah, well, I’m on my way to my ex’s wedding, I think I’m allowed,” he counters, casting a smile in my direction. “It’s not my job that I’m unhappy with—it’s everything else.”
“Oh.” I’m not sure what to say to that. I was all ready to start espousing my vagabond lifestyle, but maybe it’s not the kind of thing that would make him happy. So, instead, I lean back and look out the window to watch the buildings zip by.
“So, we have our how we met story worked out, but what else do I need to know about you to make this couple thing convincing?” I ask. “How do you take your coffee? Which side of the bed do you sleep on? Are you a cat person or a dog person? Hit me with it.”
“Um, well, I need my coffee to basically not taste like coffee, so lots of cream and sugar, preferably vanilla creamer. I don’t really have a side of the bed; I’ve been single so long I pretty much starfish over the whole bed. And Harry and I were together in college, which meant twin sized beds in tiny dorm rooms so we didn’t usually sleep over. And I’m a dog person. What about you?”
“Black coffee, night and day. My sleep schedule is completely fucked so morning and night basically have no meaning to me. I tend to sleep on the left side of the bed with a giant body pillow on the right side for middle of the night cuddles. I know, pathetic. And I’m also a dog person. I had a couple of huskies growing up, and if I ever live somewhere with a yard, I’d want to get one again.”
Austin nods, keeping his eyes on the road.
“Is this all you do? Escort and paint?”
“I take all kinds of odd jobs—dog walking, bartending, cater waiter. I went through a webcam phase a few years ago and made a buttload of money, but I got kind of bored with it.”
“Wow.”
“Yeah, I know; I’m sort of all over the place.”
“Don’t be sorry. It sounds really cool. It must be nice to have that much freedom.”
“It is, but as you saw from my apartment, it’s not exactly lucrative.”
“So, what.” He shrugs. “There’s more to life than money. If you’re happy, that’s all that matters. Are you happy?”
“I am,” I answer easily. “Especially tonight,” I add, playfully sliding my hand into his lap. Austin gasps, pressing into my touch, his dick growing hard against my grasp.
“Me too.”