Better Than Beginnings: A Better Than Good Short Story Collection (Better Than Stories Book 5)

by Lane Hayes

  He answered the phone on the first ring. “Hello, handsome. Did you miss me?”

  I grinned and felt my cheeks redden for no apparent reason. “Of course. What are you wearing?”

  “Absolutely nothing,” Aaron purred.

  “Are you serious?”

  “Yep. I just got out of the shower so unless a towel counts, I’m naked, Matty.”

  His tone was playful and sexy, but the last thing I needed was a hard-on in basketball shorts. I gulped. “Um, we’re just finishing up now. I’m going to drop Curt off, but I’ll be home after that so just…stay naked, okay?”

  “Mmm. Yes.” Aaron’s seductive hum went straight to my dick.

  “Fuck, I better go before my boner gets out of control. Thanks a lot, Aar.”

  His melodic laughter drifted through the phone. “I’m sorry. Oh, hey! Did you ask him?”

  “No. Not yet. I didn’t want to do it in front of a big audience,” I said.

  “Well, now’s your chance. Or maybe you should bring him here. I’ll make brunch. Can Jack come too and what about—”

  “Hey, slow down, babe.”

  “But it’s a good idea,” he insisted.

  “Yeah, okay. You’re right. I’ll invite him over.”

  “Perfect. I better get dressed.”

  I snickered as I pulled my bag over my shoulder and strategically positioned it to cover my bulge. “I’ll see you soon.”

  I shoved my phone into my pocket and looked around for my friends. Jack waved from the other side of the chain link fence and pulled Curt against him for a quick kiss. Then he revved his motorcycle, secured his helmet, and pulled away.

  “What’s the holdup, Sullivan? Let’s go!” Curt tapped his watch impatiently.

  I knew he was joking, but I didn’t take the bait this time. I pulled out my keys and led the way to my BMW.

  “What are you doing today?”

  “Besides waiting for you to unlock the car?” he asked sarcastically. “Not much. Why?”

  “Ha. Ha. I was just wondering if you and Jack are doing anything special.”

  “Special?” Curt paused before opening the passenger-side door and cocked his head. “If you’re asking if we’re going to have sex when he gets home later, the answer is a definitive yes.”

  I huffed in amusement, then chucked my workout bag into the back seat and slid into the driver’s seat. “Thanks for sharing but no, I—are you hungry? Aaron’s making brunch. Do you wanna come over?”

  “Now?”

  I pulled my seat belt on and turned on the engine. “Yeah, now.”

  “Is this a spur of the moment thing?”

  “Don’t overthink it, Curtster. It’s scrambled eggs, fruit, and avocado toast. You coming or not?”

  Curt grinned. “What about French toast?”

  “Ask him yourself, asshole. If he’s feeling sweet, I bet he’ll hook you up.”

  “Thanks. I’m in. I thought Saturdays were your designated ‘wedding planning day,’ ” he commented as he fastened his seat belt. “How’s it going?”

  “Good. We have almost everything locked into place. The invitations will be ready to mail soon, and I just put down the deposit at the resort we’re staying at in Puerto Rico for our honeymoon. We have a little glitch on the parent side, but we’ll work it out.”

  “Uh oh. What did your mom do?”

  “Believe it or not, it’s not my family this time. Aar’s folks want the deacon from their church to perform the ceremony. His mom is super excited because supposedly after much deliberation, the old fart has agreed to set his misgivings aside and marry a couple of homosexuals. I think there was a hefty fee including gas mileage involved, but I don’t know the specifics. I only know it’s the last thing we want. We have the minister already. I thought he’d told his mom about it a few weeks ago, but…here we are. We’re supposed to visit them next weekend. Aaron says he’ll talk to them before then, but if he doesn’t, we’re in for an uncomfortable afternoon at the Mendez house.”

  “Sounds like the opposite of fun. If Jack and I ever tie the knot, we won’t have to deal with family crap. Thank God. He has one sister, I have one brother, and they both know better than to mess with Jack.”

  “Do you think you’ll get married? I mean…eventually,” I amended as I turned into the garage of my condo complex.

  “Yes, I think so. But I doubt we’ll have a big ceremony like you and Aaron or like Peter and Jay did. A justice of the peace quickie and a kickass party is more our style,” he said with a laugh. “Weddings are expensive.”

  I parked my car and opened my door. “You’re telling me. Sometimes I wish we’d streamlined the process too.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I can’t wait for us to be married, but I could do without the unsolicited opinions of family and friends on how it should be done. Everyone has big ideas about wedding etiquette. You wouldn’t believe the conversation I had with my mother about inviting some great uncle I’ve never met before in my life. And with Aaron’s family, the church conversation is usually followed by twenty questions about when we’re going to have kids and how we should raise them.”

  Curt shuddered theatrically. “That sucks.”

  “I know it comes from a good place, but it does suck.”

  We were mostly quiet in the elevator ride to my floor. Just as I was about to put my key in the door, Curt grabbed my elbow.

  “I haven’t given my unsolicited opinion, have I?” he asked with a frown. “If I have, I didn’t mean any offense. I’m genuinely happy for you guys. Heck, I was there from the beginning. I remember the way you looked whenever you talked about Aaron. Your eyes got twinkly, and you’d get this stupid grin on your face and I remember thinking…‘Damn, Matt’s in love with a guy.’ ”

  I grinned as I pushed the door open. “Seems like yesterday, doesn’t it?”

  “Yeah. It does and…” He gave me an intense look before he continued. “I’m really happy for you both. A wedding isn’t the same as being married. Anybody can throw a party, but you guys are ready for the real thing.”

  I dropped my bag on the bench in the entry and let the strains of a Spanish song playing loudly in the background fill the space. It was a funny sort of touchstone moment. The memory Curt evoked was a powerful one. I remembered standing inside the doorway of our bachelor pad wondering if I could possibly explain how I felt about Aaron to my gay friend who assumed I was straight. I’d been afraid and yet hopeful. I knew if anyone might understand, it would be Curt.

  When I’d eventually told him I was bi and in love with a man, he’d been there for me. No questions asked. He still was.

  I pursed my lips and nodded. “Thanks, man. I love him and yeah, we are ready.”

  “Cool. I’m starving. Where’s Aar?” Curt slugged my bicep playfully and stepped into the great room.

  “Wait!”

  Curt waved at Aaron when he called his name from the kitchen, then looked back at me absently. “What is it?”

  “I—will you be my best man?”

  Curt’s shocked expression was priceless. “Really?”

  I chuckled. “Yeah, really.”

  Curt grinned and pulled me against him in an enthusiastic bear hug. He released me and nudged my shoulder. “What about your brother? I thought you already asked Sean. Did something happen?”

  “No. You’d be joint best men. I know that sounds weird but—”

  “Come on in. You can talk about it over pancakes,” Aaron said with a smile. “Are you hungry?”

  He stood in the doorway, stirring batter in the large blue bowl tucked under his arm. His gray sweats hung low on his hips, revealing a sexy sliver of skin. I had a sudden urge to slip my hand under the elastic and squeeze his perfect ass. My gaze traveled up his toned chest. The definition in his abs was visible through his snug white T-shirt. Fuck, he was hot. I stared at his full lips for a moment before I caught his knowing look.

  I moved to his side and kissed him. It
was supposed to be a quick hello kiss, but he smelled so good and his lips were so soft. I couldn’t resist sliding my tongue in his mouth and—

  “Geez, you two. Get a room,” Curt groused, pushing by us as he made his way to the kitchen. He flopped onto one of the barstools at the island and leaned on his elbows. “I believe this calls for a celebration.”

  Aaron broke the kiss and shot a sultry look at me that made my dick twitch in my shorts. Then he danced to the island, set the bowl down, and flung his arms over Curt’s shoulders.

  “Thank you. It means a lot to both of us,” Aaron said.

  Curt smiled and scooted his stool sideways to make room for me to sit next to him. “I’m excited to be part of the wedding. Thank you. So…how does it work? Do Sean and I split important duties? I call bachelor party. Your brother will hire the wrong kind of strippers at a seedy hotel in Vegas. We can’t take chances like that, Matt.”

  Aaron picked up the bowl and skirted the island. “No strippers, Curtis.”

  “Is that a hard rule or are you open to negotiation?” Curt teased.

  Aaron glared at him and shook his head definitively. “Hard rule. No discussion necessary. Beer, champagne, or mimosa? And how would you like your eggs?”

  “Scrambled, please.”

  I tousled Curt’s hair and gave him a playful shove as I stood again to grab our drinks. “Don’t mess with Mr. Sullivan-Mendez. If my husband says no strippers, there will be no strippers.”

  Aaron beamed before turning to the stove. I pulled orange juice and a bottle of champagne from the refrigerator. I set the flutes on the island and prepared our mimosas while Curt regaled us with cringeworthy bachelor party options. Bungee jumping, tattoos, drinking games. I handed a glass to Curt and one to Aaron before rounding the island to reclaim my seat.

  “Should I call Sean? How will this work?” Curt asked.

  Aaron pulled a batch of pancakes off the griddle. He set the neatly stacked plate on the island and smiled. “I don’t think Matty wants a bachelor party.”

  Curt raised his champagne flute, then set it down again. “You don’t?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ll think about it, but I didn’t ask you to be my best man so you’d plan a party for me. Aar and I asked our brothers and we’re happy we did but…something was missing.”

  “The gay part?” Curt joked.

  Aaron chuckled. “No, silly. The part where the people who’ve been by our sides through major life events stand with us when we make a public commitment to be together forever. I adore my brother and my mother would’ve had a fit if I hadn’t asked him, but Jay’s my best friend. He belongs there. And so do you.”

  “We’ve been friends for a long time, Curt. Hell, you were with me the night I met Aar, and it would mean a lot to me if you were with me the day I marry him.”

  Curt pursed his lips and nodded. “I’m honored. Truly honored.”

  “Cool. You’re not gonna cry or anything, are you?”

  “Fuck off, Sullivan,” Curt huffed. He lifted his glass in a toast and smiled. “I promise to make a much better speech at the wedding but for now…to the future Mr. and Mr. Sullivan-Mendez. Thank you for including me on your journey.”

  We clinked our flutes together and sipped our mimosas. Then Aaron inclined his head toward the food and told us to serve ourselves.

  “This looks good, babe. I’m starving,” I said, piling my plate with pancakes and eggs.

  “Me too,” Curt agreed around a mouthful of pancakes. “So did I get your names right? Does it matter whose goes first?”

  I speared a giant pancake bite and popped it into my mouth, leaving Aaron to answer that question. I had no clue how the etiquette of hyphenating last names worked.

  “There’s no right or wrong,” Aaron replied. He helped himself to extra fruit, then leaned against the island and methodically separated the strawberries from the blueberries before continuing. “It could be Sullivan-Mendez, Mendez-Sullivan, but it might just be Sullivan.”

  “You mean you’ll keep your own names? Lots of people do that. If or when Jack and I tie the knot, that’s what we’ll do. From a business perspective, it would be a pain in the ass for either of us to change our names. You have to deal with driver’s licenses, passports…”

  I hovered my fork above my plate as Curt went on about government agencies and bank accounts and focused on Aaron. He seemed perfectly at ease yet somehow pensive too. His head lowered so his dark hair fell over his forehead. I admired his long lashes against his olive skin and the subtle way he tilted his head to indicate he was listening. But I knew him too well. He was lost in thought, no doubt turning over the part Curt misunderstood. But I knew what he was thinking.

  He sensed my gaze and gave me a shy smile I returned with a wink. We’d become experts at wordless communication over the years, and it seemed heightened lately. We weren’t going to discuss a name debate in front of Curt or bore him with the other million details we had yet to work out. We’d talk when we were alone. In the meantime, these silent connections in the form of a nod, a wink, or a glancing touch grounded us. I wouldn’t pretend to know what was on his mind, but I knew we’d figure it out together.

  Jack came by to pick up Curt after his meeting. He joined us in another toast before hiking Curt’s bag over his shoulder, declaring they both needed showers. I closed the door and headed back to the kitchen to help Aaron clean up. He was singing softly to himself as he scrubbed a pan. I didn’t recognize the song being piped through our speaker system, but it didn’t matter. He was happy. I could see it in the curve of his mouth and the sway of his hips. I moved behind him, nuzzling his neck as I slipped my arms around his slim waist.

  “Want some help?”

  “Sure, you can load the dishwasher,” Aaron instructed, twisting slightly to plant a kiss on the corner of my lips.

  “Okay.”

  He bent his head again and scrubbed a little harder, content in his own thoughts. I wanted in too. I wanted him to look at me, talk to me, laugh with me. And if he wasn’t going to give me his undivided attention on his own, I’d find another way to get it. I opened the dishwasher and stacked the plates on the lower rack. Then I reached for the champagne flutes and gently leaned them against the plates.

  “What are you doing?” Aaron asked with a frown.

  “I’m loading the dishwasher.”

  “You’re doing it wrong, and you know it.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. I know what I’m doing.” I gave him a wide-eyed innocent look before continuing my chore.

  When I haphazardly set a coffee mug next to a cereal bowl on the top rack, then closed it and put a mixing bowl over the champagne flutes, he lost his mind.

  “Oh. My. God. You can’t do it like that. Out, Matt!”

  “Hey, I got this. Hand me the forks, babe.” I wiggled my fingers expectantly.

  He shooed me aside. “No way. Move it. You’re making more work for me. I’m going to have to reorganize everything now.”

  “Oh, come on. It’s a dishwasher, not a Rubik’s Cube. What’s the big deal?”

  Aaron narrowed his eyes, pointed his forefinger at me, and launched into a mini tirade in Spanish. I didn’t understand three quarters of what he was saying, but I caught the gist. When he threw in a couple of Matthews, I threw my hands in the air in surrender and backed away from the dishwasher.

  “Ouch. You must mean business. You never call me Matthew. Are you going to do that with our kids when they’re driving you crazy?” I asked conversationally.

  Aaron turned off the faucet, then dried his hands on a paper towel before pivoting to face me. He let out an exasperated breath, but his lopsided smile was affectionate and sweet.

  “Like you?”

  I grinned mischievously. “I can hear it now…‘Matthew Sullivan-Mendez Junior,’ ” I said in a mock scolding tone. “Is that what we decided?”

  Aaron shrugged with faux nonchalance. “Whatever you want is fine with me.”

>   I barked a quick laugh and crossed my arms. “Yeah, right. I’m not that gullible. What’s going on? I thought we had the name thing settled.”

  “Yes, but—I was thinking something more traditional might be better.”

  I studied him for clues but came up blank. “Since when?”

  “Recently. Or maybe always.”

  “It can’t be both. What happened?”

  “My mom—”

  “I knew it,” I huffed in annoyance. “What did she say?”

  “Honestly, nothing. Yet. But I’m nervous about telling her we aren’t using the deacon. If I tell her I’m changing my name to Sullivan, she might forgive the deacon thing.”

  “That’s nuts,” I said, furrowing my brow.

  “Yeah, but I’m from a very traditional Catholic family, Matty. Everyone is willing to set aside tradition to support us, and I feel bad that I’m not making any concessions for them. I’m not getting married in a church, I’m not using their deacon. I asked Jay to be my best man and then had to go back and ask my brother after my parents had a fit that you’d asked yours.”

  “Hey. We don’t have to please everyone, Aar. This is our day, and we get to call the shots. If you really want the smarmy deacon dude to marry us, I’ll be okay with it but—”

  “I don’t.”

  I cradled his chin and rubbed my thumb over his bottom lip. “I know you don’t. Look, the best man idea was a good one. It’s a sweet and meaningful sentiment. Those guys will always be part of our lives. But taking my name isn’t the same thing. If you want to do it, that’s great…but if it’s really about doing something traditional for your family, then it’s not so great.”

  Aaron nodded. “You’re right. Maybe we should keep our own names for now and reevaluate after we have kids.”

  “I like that idea,” I replied. I rested my hands on his hips for a second before giving in to temptation and pushing his sweatpants over his ass.

  He kissed my jaw and nipped my chin playfully. “And what if I don’t want to hyphenate at all?”

  “Then we won’t hyphenate. Any more questions?”