Lover Boy (Blue Collar Bachelors Book 1)

by Cassie-Ann L. Miller

  A group of rowdy women in their early twenties rush the bar, laughing and having the time of their lives. They all wear identical black tank tops with gold lettering across the front. It’s supposed to be cute but I really hate them right now. I shoot an ugly scowl their way. “Oh excuse me!” the perky blonde wearing the veil and the black tank top with ‘BRIDE’ emblazoned across the front says. Her eyes catch on Sophia’s wedding gown and she gives my friend a pitying onceover and a "So sad..." before turning back to her party of giggly bridesmaids.

  Less than 24 hours ago, that was us, innocuously enjoying Sophia’s classy-in-Las-Vegas bachelorette party. Now, here we are. Joshua didn’t even bother to show up at the church. Sophia is heartbroken and mortified, sitting at a bar getting drunk in her wedding dress. Nova looks like she’d readily perform a castration if she runs into the runaway groom right now. And then there’s Charlie.

  Charlie looks pissed.

  He’s always been protective of both Sophia and Nova, like they were his little sisters, too. He is definitely not happy with Josh right now. “If I get my hands on that fucking son of a bitch…” He punches his left fist into his right palm as he paces the floor in front of the bar.

  Nova spins on her heels and charges at my brother. “Y’know what? Maybe if last night you had pulled your head out of that waterbag-breasted hussy's tits for five minutes and actually gone and talked to Joshua like we asked you to, this wouldn’t have happened!”

  “I was on a date!” Charlie protests bitterly.

  Nova rolls her eyes. “With a naked stripper at a bachelor party.”

  “She wasn’t naked. She was wearing a dress," Charlie fights back.

  “Made of see-through mesh,” Nova retorts.

  “A breathable summer fabric!”

  My friend’s eyeballs do a full rotation in their sockets. ”Please! I bet five dollars you can't even remember her name."

  "That's not fair. I never asked."

  Nova’s hand pops up like a stop sign. “I just can’t with you, Charlie. I just fucking can’t.”

  The two of them continue to bicker. I turn away. I’m on the verge of tears. It's awful, seeing Sophia get stood up at her wedding. This day meant the world to her. She’d been planning it since the first time Josh kissed her back in the 8th grade. Her whole identity was wrapped up in becoming that douchebag’s wife. And for him to treat her like this. It shreds me.

  Doesn’t he care how much she loves him?

  But that's the thing with men. They don’t seem to understand just how deeply a woman can love. How far her committment can go. She could wholeheartedly invest herself only to have him get up and walk away without a moment of hesitation or of regret.

  My mind replays Leo's handsome, expressionless face as he told me that distance is what’s best for us. He has no idea how much it pained me to hear those words fall from his lips. He changed his mind about us in the wink of an eye and I was the one left hurting.

  But I can’t help but feel like all the pain I’m feeling right now is my fault. I need to learn when to walk away. Because some people don’t want to be saved. I’ve got to learn when to leave certain people behind in order to protect my heart.

  As if just to hammer the point home, Martin materializes right in that moment.

  Yes Martin—my show-tunes-loving ex-boyfriend.

  He’s coming through the door of the bar wearing a palm-leaf turtleneck under sharply tailored navy blazer. His hair is brushed carefully off of his face and he takes neat little steps across the dance floor. His grey eyes scan the room and when he spots me, his face explodes into a huge smile.

  "Reesie!" he exclaims as he throws himself at me and his arms swallow me up in a monster of a hug. He doesn't seem to notice that he's nearly toppled Sophia off of her barstool and as she sobs into her cocktail, she doesn't seem to notice either.

  My gaze sweeps across my ex's refined face. He's darn handsome. A weird sense of jealousy courses through me when I realize that he'd put up some serious competition if we were ever out on the town trolling for cock together.

  Really, Theresa?!

  Instead of saying that out loud, I smooth down my messy hair and plaster a grin across my face. "Martin! What a coincidence running into you here!"

  He gives me a sheepish look. "Not really a coincidence. I’ve been following the live-tweet. The hashtags pretty much led me all the way here." He glances over his shoulder at Sophia with a condolatory expression. "So sad…”

  "Oh my god," I mutter. My mortification for Sophia grows.

  But Martin has long moved on. He loops his arm through mine. "Walk with me."

  “Well, I’m supposed to be looking out for Soph—"

  He waves off my concern. “Oh honey, Sophia’s too spaced out to even realize you’re gone.”

  Without giving me a chance to protest, he drags me through the crowd and out the door to the patio. There are less people here on the windy rooftop and the music is just a distant buzz.

  We sit on the padded benches under the string lights and chitchat a bit about Martin's new role in the Vegas production of Grease and about some of the new recipes I'm working on for the cupcake shop. The conversation is light and the laughter comes easily as we have a few drinks. For a moment, I can breathe without the boot of depression pressing into my chest.

  Eventually, the conversation turns to relationships. “So, are you seeing anyone?" Martin asks, nibbling on the edge of the straw in his pomegranate martini.

  My shoulders sag when my mind wanders to Leo. "I had a…lover,” I confess sadly. "But that didn't work out." Now wanting his pity, I quickly change the subject. "How's Hans?" I’m not sure I possess the mental stability to withstand the stories of how nauseatingly in love they are. I brace myself.

  But Martin's response is not at all what I'd expected. He rolls his eyes. "I left Hans," he announces, his expression schooled in impassivity.

  I lay a hand on his shoulder. "I'm so sorry, Martin."

  He waves me off. "Hans is a sweater-vest-wearing, pseudo-intellectual closet-republican who's obsessed with CGI bukkake hentai porn. And he would be nothing without his sister’s Calvin Klein employee discount." Then he eyes me earnestly, "And honestly, you're the only person I've ever loved."

  Screeeech! Hold up! What?!

  Martin sets his glass aside and takes both of my hands in his. “That’s what I came here to tell you tonight, Reese. Leaving you was a mistake. I've thought of you every single day. You were right. I think this gay thing was a phase. I want you back. I'm not so sure I'm into guys anymore. I'm not gay."

  When the words finally stop gushing out of his mouth I'm sitting there frozen. "I-I..."

  "I know this is a bit much to digest all at once but the fire is still alive between us. You feel it, right?” He scoots closer and gives me his bedroom eyes. “We can take it slow. How about we go grab dinner and catch a Celine Dion show? Or Barbara Striesand is playing just around the block." He waggles his brows at the offer that I obviously can't refuse.

  That’s when it dawns on me. “You cheated on him, didn’t you? You cheated on Hans!”

  His shoulders drop in defeat. “If it makes you feel any better, it was with a woman.”

  Uh, no it doesn’t make me feel any better.

  I slide my hands out of his. "Martin, you're obviously confused. Not just about your sexuality but about the way life works in general."

  He pleads. "But I'm sorry I left you. Nothing's ever been clearer to me."

  I'd love to stay and continue this chat but...no. "Hun, in three months, you'll be saying the same thing about Hans." I rise to my feet and pivot in the direction of the dance floor.

  Martin is pouting now. Like he always does when he doesn't get his way. "Please, Reesie?"

  I glance over at Sophia. She's crying into another cocktail at the bar while a dimple-faced, muscle man is all up in her space, breathing down her neck. Meanwhile Nova is too busy arguing with Charlie to realize that our drunk and
depressed friend is about to get fucked on the sticky counter in her wedding dress.

  "It was really nice talking with you, Martin. But I need to be with my friends tonight. Goodbye."

  "Don't you walk away from me, Theresa!" He says in a tight voice, glancing around embarrassedly to see if anyone's watching.

  “You are a terrible person, Martin. Terrible in life and in bed. Hans is onto something. I’d rather watch computer-generated bukkake porn in a yuppie republican sweater vest for all of eternity than get back with you.”

  As I stomp away, a smile overtakes my face. Martin is lost and he needs saving, but for once, I won’t be the one to try.

  Chapter 43

  Leo

  Brenton sits next to me, eyes riveted to the TV screen. His little body tenses and he leans forward, eagerly anticipating the next scene. And when the grasshopper leaps out of his hole and whacks the mouse on the head, my son flops back against the cushions and explodes into giggles as if he’s only seeing this for the first time.

  His dark twinkling eyes come to mine. “Isn’t that funny, daddy?”

  Pulling on a smile seems to use up the pittance of energy that I’ve got. “Sure is,” I say unconvincingly.

  The young boy examines my face. “Daddy, why come we don’t watch movies at Reese’s house anymore?”

  “It’s how come. Not why come.”

  If I thought that giving him a mini grammar lesson would somehow divert the conversation, I was wrong. He corrects himself. “How come we don’t watch movies at Reese’s house?”

  My heavy inhale pushes my chest upward. “Reese is busy, bud.”

  I’ve barely gotten a glimpse of Reese since she got back from Las Vegas. She’s been keeping her distance. I’m aching for just a little piece of her, just a tiny smile. But all she has for me is a harsh expression and dark eyes. She’s hurting and I’m the reason. Ending our relationship was supposed to resolve things. Not make them worse.

  Brenton’s little eyebrow jerks up. “When I saw her yesterday, she didn’t look busy to me. But she did looked sad.” The corners of his lips turn down and my chest goes taut. “Daddy, you look sad too…Do you miss watching movies at Reese’s house?”

  I stare into his innocent little face and I can’t bring myself to lie to him. I do feel sad, I do miss Reese. So much. I slide an arm around his shoulder and give him a squeeze. “It was fun watching movies at her house. But over here, it’s just us boys. No girls allowed. And that’s fun, right?”

  He doesn’t seem impressed by my lame attempt to focus on a silver lining that isn’t really there. He looks up at me and the sageness in his stare is far too much for his four years. “I don’t like it when you’re sad, daddy.” He presses his little body closer to mine. “I think we need to watch movies at Reese’s house.”

  If only it was that simple.

  Chapter 44

  Reese

  As Sophia curls up on the couch, Nova fusses about, fluffing her pillows and draping her in a warm quilt.

  I lay out a few issues of Farmers' Weekly, garlic butter mashed potatoes with bacon bits and a tub of Cool Whip within arm's reach on the coffee table.

  I crouch down next to her and hand her the remote. "Hun, we're gonna give you some space, okay? But if you need anything, just call out. I'll be right on the back porch if you need me."

  Sophia’s blank eyes stare off into space as she gives me an underwhelming nod.

  Nova brushes back the hair matted to her forehead. "I'm sorry I've gotta go. I have a gig tonight. But I'll be back tomorrow."

  In response, Sophia pushes a wheezy breath and slumps deeper into the cushions.

  "She just needs some rest," Nova says unconvincingly as she grabs her guitar case, throws an arm around my shoulder and steers me out onto the porch.

  "D'you think she'll be okay?" I ask once we're out of earshot.

  With a sigh, Nova collapses against the patio railing. "I hope so," she says solemnly."Is it bad that I wish Josh would get hit by a truck full of bloody pig testicles?"

  I seriously consider the question for a second. "Well given what he's done, I'd call that karmic justice but I think it's pretty unlikely."

  Nova’s tone carries a hint of optimism. "Stranger things have happened..."

  I nod. "True. Stranger things have happened..."

  We stand in silence for a moment, letting the warm summer breeze wash over us. "How are you doing?" my friend asks. On the way to Vegas, I’d given her a vague rundown of what happened with Leo but everyone around us was in the mood to party and I didn’t want to put a damper on the occasion, so I opted to keep my sadness to myself. "We never really got the chance to talk about how things ended with Leo.”

  My heart wretches at the mention of his name. "There's nothing to talk about, really. We used to be fuck friends and now we aren't." I shrug a shoulder to mask how helpless and heartbroken I feel. I'm exhausted and this exhaustion isn't accompanied by the exhilaration of a sleeplessness night of passion and hot sex. This exhaustion comes from tossing and turning and spending the night wishing things were different.

  "Are you sure you're in the right head space to take care of Sophia? You just got your own heart broken."

  The answer, beyond a reasonable doubt, is no. I am decidedly unfit to care for another person at the moment. But at least, tending to Sophia’s needs takes my focus off of me. And that's what I need if I'm going to get through this.

  I smile at Nova even though she doesn't seem to buy my happy act. "Helping Sophia makes me feel better."

  She sighs as she slings her guitar case strap over her shoulder. "That hero complex of yours will take you to your grave." She wraps an arm around me and presses a quick kiss to my cheek. "Sorry I can't stay. I've gotta go. I'm playing a bat mitzah. Last minute gig. They called me after Ricky Martin cancelled so I've gotta bring my A-game, y'know? Plus, they're paying by the hour."

  “Go knock ‘em dead, babe,” I call out as she skips down the stairs.

  She does an exaggerated curtsy before climbing into her car and speeding off.

  I take a few minutes to stand there on the patio and let the sun pour down on my skin. I do my best not to look over at the neighboring yard, at the stairs where Leo first kissed me, at the spot where he offered me his body while telling me his heart was off-limits. Despite my best efforts, pain rains down on me, canceling out the healing effects of the sun.

  This isn't helping. It's actually making me feel worse.

  I take a few lethargic steps toward my door before the door on the neighboring patio slides open. My stomach coils and all that fight or flight stuff kicks in but I keep my head straight and my movements steady...until I hear his voice.

  "Reese?!"

  My head snaps in Brenton's direction. "Brent!"

  At the sight of the little boy, my mettle and my steel dissolve. I drop to my knees and he runs across the yard into my waiting arms. The reunion nearly has me in tears as I wrap him up in a monster hug.

  He pulls out of the embrace but holds tight to my hand as he talks a mile a minute, catching up on the happenings at school and in his favorite cartoons.

  When he runs out of steam, he grins up in my face. He’s so adorable. He even has a new haircut and the sling on his broken arm is covered in colorful squiggles. ”I miss you," he tells me. I didn't know it was possible for my heart to break even more. "Why come I don't come to your house anymore?”

  The little grammatically-incorrect question hits me in the chest. "Well sweetie, your dad doesn't need my help anymore."

  "But you're my friend..." His eyes glitter at me with confusion. The guilt and turmoil I feel is too much.

  I pull him in for another cuddle so that I don't have to see that expression on his face. "I'm so sorry, Brenton." The child has been through so much. I hate being another person who let him down.

  My mind registers the frantic echo of Leo’s voice. "Brenton! Brenton!" It starts off faint but quickly grows louder and heavy with worry. />
  I brace myself for the sight of him. I know it’s gonna hurt. He tears through the back door and explodes onto the porch. "BRENTON!"

  His steps falter when he sees me. I stand up with shaky knees. His anger drops and something intense and forlorn steps into its place. "Reese..."

  "Hi." I'm shocked at my ability to deliver the word in a smooth, casual tone.

  He closes the inches between us. “You…Hey, hi…I mean…” He's stuttering and I can't figure out whether that look on his face is good or bad. Luckily, my nerves don't knock my knees out from under me.

  I won't allow the mix of emotions I feel when I look at him rope me in. "I was only saying hi to Brent. I have to go."