by Rhys Everly
Most of it was to notify him of the number of likes on his page, Dreamless in New York, and to let him know of the targets he had reached. He’d had a little over 10,000 likes. He wasn’t even able to take the number in. It had been over a week since his last login and update, yet all his posts and pictures had thousands of comments, likes, and shares. He spent an enormous chunk of time reading all the comments and clearing the rest of his notifications.
Then he got into the messages. So many of them to go through. The messages were more personal, even if he didn’t know the people in question.
Most of them told him how much they admired his pictures and how much his stories had touched them.
Some said they wanted to help the people in the photos, and others were asking how they could do so. He found a few messages were from old friends who had heard about him and had been worried when he’d deleted his Facebook page, telling him how glad they were to hear from him again and asked him about his wellbeing and his health.
And then out of all the messages, there was the one that made him rub his eyes and question his sanity.
Hello Mr. Pierce Callahan,
My name is Dolores Ortega and I’m sending you this personal message to make an enquiry. I saw your photographic work on your page ‘Dreamless in New York’ and I have to say I’m in awe of the talent and raw emotion that your pictures emanate.
I have been going through them over and over again, balling my eyes out at these stories. I’m a New Yorker myself and I can’t believe these brave people live in my city and I haven’t even given them a second of my time before.
First of all, I wanted to ask if you have set up a fundraising account where we can deposit funds to help those poor souls. If you haven’t, make sure you do. I saw the interaction on your page and I believe there are others like me who want to do something about the homelessness that is tearing this city apart.
Secondly, I wanted to make you, the artist, an offer. I own an art gallery in Manhattan and I wanted to ask you if you’d be willing to exhibit your work in my gallery. I have lots of friends in the industry and I’m sure a talent like yours will be well sought after. Looking forward to hearing from you.
Kind regards,
Dolores x.”
One Year Later
Pierce
The maître d’ arrived at the table followed by Rafe, who was wearing a metallic pink shirt and a faded gray suit. He smiled at Pierce, who was sitting at the table, looking at his phone.
When he sensed Rafe bending down and placing his head on Pierce’s shoulder, Pierce put his cell down and jerked his head to kiss his boyfriend.
“Hi, baby,” Rafe said and took a seat across Pierce, only separated by a tea light in a red jar. “You okay?”
Pierce took in the sight of his partner and sucked in a deep breath; he was truly breathtaking. He’d let his hair grow slightly, although he still had no traces of a beard, and any little he did have, he shaved daily.
Rafe took his jacket off, and his shirt tightened under the pressure of his bulging muscles. In all honesty, Pierce admired Rafe. Not only was he hard-working and committed, a great lover and boyfriend, he also looked after his health and body with immense results. And Pierce couldn’t be prouder of how he’d turned out.
“I’m good,” Pierce replied. “I was on the phone with Tracy earlier today, and she told me the fundraising is going so well, she thinks they’ll be able to open the shelter earlier than we thought,” Pierce went on and let his lips form the smile they’d been holding in.
Starting a fundraiser for a homeless shelter might not have been his idea, but it certainly had taken a wild form of its own and he was happy to be involved in with it, helping raise money with his photography.
Rafe tapped his hand on the table several times and bounced on his chair. “That’s so exciting. And any news from Dolores?”
Pierce let himself be affected by the child-like glee that Rafe exhumed. “I did, indeed. She called me in the afternoon like she said she would. Apparently everyone loved the exhibition in Paris, and a few more art and photography curators have contacted her about doing more in London, Milan, and Zurich. She said she’ll get the dates and let me know,” he explained.
“Did you tell her you can’t do August?” Rafe nodded.
Pierce gasped. “What’s in August?”
Rafe kicked him under the table.
“Oh, yeah, vacation time with my boyfriend in Mexico celebrating his twenty-first, how could I forget?”
Rafe frowned. “You better have not. It’s the only time I managed to get off work, mister.”
Pierce laughed. The waiter arrived at their table, and Pierce ordered non-alcoholic beer for both of them. When he left, he turned his full attention back to Rafe. “How was your work today, sweetie?”
“It was good. Got Marissa in the back today, started training her in all the office stuff. That girl’s math is on fire. Even I struggled with some of the finance in my training. She aced it,” he admitted.
“That’s great.” Pierce smiled and saw the waiter return with their drinks. “I knew she could do it. From the first day you hired her in The Tangerine as a waitress, she was a natural. Actually, considering her friend has managed to become a head manager in a matter of a year, I wouldn’t be shocked if she stole your job in a few months,” he chuckled.
Rafe sat back and shook his finger in front of Pierce. “Cariño, if she does get better than me, I’ll just fire her and send her elsewhere. Puh-lease!”
They both laughed.
“Are you ready to order?”
Life was good. For the both of them. While Pierce had found his passion for snapping photos of the New Yorkers no one ever saw or read about, and made it into a profitable, charitable business, Rafe had found his place serving people and running an actual, brick-and-mortar business.
He couldn’t complain. They made quite the couple. With Rafe only hiring homeless people in his restaurant, Pierce exhibiting his photographs across the world and helping to raise funds for a homeless center with his page Dreamless in New York, they made a good team.
Neither one of them would have made it where they were today if it hadn’t been for the other. They’d been through each other’s lowest, helped each other when they were ready to give up, and now they were being present for their transformation into thriving adults with a bright future ahead of them. Pierce didn’t care much about anything other than Rafe. He would give everything else up in a heartbeat, but Rafe was the only future he couldn’t imagine himself without.
Pierce took Rafe’s hand. The waiter had just left with their order, Rafe following him before bringing his eyes back on Pierce.
“I love you, you know that?” Pierce told him, staring into his eyes.
“Me too,” Rafe responded without missing a beat.
The spurting sound of firework candles cut through the restaurant as the waiter approached the table with a heart-shaped cake, singing “Happy Birthday,” harmonized by Rafe’s voice.
Pierce smiled and let them finish the song. Most of the other patrons had turned to look at the flashy cake and the singing gays.
The waiter put the cake down on the table in front of Pierce, and he blew out the candle. He didn’t make a wish. He was twenty-two, but he had everything he could ever want. He had Rafe.
The diners closest to them clapped for the birthday boy. “I know you like the dessert first, so I thought I’d surprise you by having it before our meal,” Rafe explained.
Pierce felt a pull in his heart. He didn’t mind it. It was what having your heart stolen felt like. The waiter handed him a knife to cut the cake. The thing was, just like Rafe knew Pierce, he also knew Rafe very well. Just like he knew Rafe loved to paint in his spare time and to let off steam, he knew Rafe was going to surprise him with a cake. He took the candle out from the edge of the cake and cut a piece around the hole. He put the piece on Rafe’s plate, then cut another one for himself. The waiter didn’t leave
. He stood watching.
Rafe started eating. Pierce didn’t. He watched as Rafe chewed and went down for another bite. Their waiter was still watching. Pierce saw a few more of the waiters doing the same. Those fuckers were going to ruin everything.
Rafe’s spoon met resistance and he persisted. Traces of silver reflected the candle light.
“What is this?” Rafe asked as he cleared around the silver to reveal a ring with a sapphire in the middle.
Pierce didn’t answer. He pushed his chair back and went down on his left knee. Or should it have been his right knee? He didn’t know if there was importance or significance in it. It was too late to change it. He’d only look foolish.
He took the ring out of Rafe’s hands and held it in front of him, cake and all. Rafe stared at Pierce, his mouth agape and his hands frozen on top of the chocolate cake.
“Rafe, baby, you are my world,” Pierce began. Damn, he hadn’t even rehearsed it.
Rafe grabbed Pierce’s hand. “What are you doing?” he looked around. Pierce didn’t. He could tell everyone was watching. As if he needed an audience to stress him.
“From the moment I punched you, that October day, you changed my life.” People laughed. The waiter laughed. Rafe laughed. “You gave it purpose and meaning. I-I was lost before you. Truly lost. But meeting you, becoming your friend, your lover, I learned more about the world than I could have without you. I learned so much about myself.
“You taught me how to be happy. And even though you might still call me a brute sometimes, I am happy. Only next to you did I even learn the meaning of the word. And next to you I found out what it is to love and be loved. I… I know we’ll be together for the rest of our lives and that we don’t need a ring or a paper to make this any more real than it already is, but somehow this feels right.” Pierce swallowed.
Rafe rolled his eyes. “Oh, say the truth, you just want everyone to know I’m taken.” It seemed like the whole restaurant laughed.
Pierce did. “That too, but I want the world to know I’m yours also. So, will you agree to marry me, you thieving cabrón?”
Rafe rubbed Pierce’s cheek with his thumb, his eyes fixed on his. “You’re such an ass. Of course I’ll marry you, you fool.”
Everything else blurred. The applause, the cheers, the whistles. That moment, it was just the two of them. Like it had always been.
Like it would always be. The brute and the thief and a life happy together.
A Letter from Rhys
I’m not exactly sure what to say about this book other than it was my first novel and it holds a special place in my heart.
I’ve learned a lot from writing it and have grown considerably as an author since, but I’m still proud of this book and everything it represents.
It was inspired by my trip to NYC for a book fair and after talking to a publisher I had all these plot bunnies for a series, starting with this book.
It’s a little known fact, but Street Love—or The Guy with the Suitcase, as it was called before—is a modern retelling of the the Little Match Girl, a sad story about a girl selling matchsticks in the dead of winter and lighting the matchsticks to keep warm and happy.
Until her matches run out and she’s reunited with her grandma, who carries her to Heaven.
It’s an incredibly heartbreaking story, but I wanted to put my own spin to it and give it some hope, some meaning. A happy ever after.
I hope you’ve enjoyed Street Love and the story of brute Pierce and rugrat Rafe. I know it’s not a love story for everyone and it’s quite hard to read at times, which is why I was reluctant to republish it, but, like I said above, this book is so special to me, I needed it to be with me under my new pen name.
If you’d like to read more of my stories, you can start with Fresh Start, the first book in the Cedarwood Beach series. It’s got a lot less angst, a lot more romance, and so many lovable characters.
If you enjoy a bit of hard-hitting fantasy with your angst, you can give Killer Heart a try, the first book in my urban fantasy series with never-ending action, tons of magic and an enemies-to-lovers plot to die for.
And for those of you who enjoy a lot more sex and kink in your romance, stay tuned for my upcoming series Proper Education, a teacher/student forbidden romance series, the first book of which, Beau Pair, is hitting the digital shelves of Amazon this October 2020.
Also by Rhys
For an up-to-date list visit my website at rhyswritesromance.com/books
Rhys Everly
Sexy romance with all the feels
Cedarwood Beach Series:
Fresh Start, Book 1
Wayward Love, Book 2
Rogue Affair, Book 3
A Proper Education Series:
Beau Pair
Standalones
Street Love
Rhys Lawless
Killer romance. One spell at a time.
Blade & Dust Series:
Killer Heart, Book 1
Demon Heart, Book 2
Vampire Heart, Book 3
A Blade & Dust Short Series:
The short stories can be read as standalone, but if you’d like to read them as part of the series, follow the numbering.
Foxy Heart, Book 0.5 (Free)
Daddy Heart, Book 3.5
Audiobooks
My books are coming in audio. For an up-to-date list visit my website at rhyswritesromance.com/audio
Rhys Everly
Sexy romance with all the feels
Cedarwood Beach Series
Narrated by Nick Hudson
Fresh Start, Book 1
Rhys Lawless
Killer romance. One spell at a time.
Blade & Dust Series
Narrated by John York
Killer Heart, Book 1
About the Author
Rhys writes gay romance. He has been writing since the tender age of 11 and hasn’t really stopped since.
He publishes urban fantasy and paranormal romance under the pen name Rhys Lawless and contemporary sweet and steamy romances under Rhys Everly.
Rhys currently lives in London, UK with his husband and their 12-year-old puppy.
You can find out more about him and his works-in-progress by joining his Facebook group or visiting his website rhyswritesromance.com