Winning It All

by Tanya Chris

  “You want to call off the wedding then?”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “Look, you’re not comfortable so I shouldn’t have pressed it.” His imagination had run away with him for a moment there. “We’ll figure out another way to split the money—sign a contract. Or trust each other. We can trust each other.”

  Now that the trust issue had been turned around on him, he could see why Seth had been offended. There was no predicting the future, but if he couldn’t count on Seth, he couldn’t count on anything.

  Chapter 4 Seth

  Fuck. Seth burst out of the phonebooth like it housed a pack of wolverines. He had to get away from Carson before he did or said something he couldn’t take back. How had they gotten into this mess? Sure, it’d been his idea, but Carson usually nixed his more preposterous ideas. And this was his most preposterous idea yet.

  He was never getting married. That was what he’d always said. Not because gay marriage was only legal in a handful of states when he first came out. Not because he couldn’t settle on a single guy. But because he could only settle on a single guy. Carson. It’d always been Carson. And now he was supposed to marry Carson, but only for money. Only for pretend.

  It’d seemed like a pretty slick trick until he realized that the two of them living together in close quarters with the pretense of a marriage to keep up meant not sleeping with other men. And sleeping with other men was the only way he kept himself from jumping on his best friend every time he saw him. Living with Carson—horny and desperate—and not touching him? No way he could do it.

  But this new idea of Carson’s, the one where they fucked around with each other as part of their fake marriage, was even worse. Seth might be a brilliant actor, but how was he supposed to pretend that he was only pretending to feel exactly what he actually felt? And how was he supposed to get a taste of what he wanted and then let it go again?

  Back when they were sixteen, he’d been on pins and needles coming out to his best friend—his best friend he’d always had a crush on—only to have Carson casually come out to him in return. But Carson had already been with Allie by then, and by the time that relationship ended five years later, it’d been too late. Seth had been all the way friend-zoned by then.

  So he fucked other guys while lusting after Carson in his heart, and that had been working fine until the money came along and he conceived the brilliant idea of getting married, which Trisha and Leslie were waiting to witness. How the fuck was he supposed to get himself out of this? He raked his hand through his hair, undoing whatever Carson had just done to fix it as he paced back and forth outside the booth.

  “I didn’t realize it would be such a horrifying prospect.” Carson had followed him out of the booth, but he was still leaned up against it, watching him pace. “I’m not your type, huh?”

  “What?” Seth stopped pacing to face him.

  “Or is it because I get too anal about things?”

  “Is what about you getting too anal?”

  “That the thought of having sex with me has you running for the hills.”

  “Geez, Carson.” How could Carson possibly be insecure? With those soulful brown eyes and that build? He was exactly Seth’s type—the type which could be categorized as “Carson, population one.”

  “I guess if I want to date men, I need to dress with more flair, huh?” Carson looked down at his suit like there was something wrong with it.

  It was a classic dark blue, the sort of thing a CEO would wear, and he wore it with the commanding posture of a CEO. If Seth didn’t know the man beneath the suit, he might come across as uptight, but the contrast between the rigidly formal attire and the neurotic goofball wearing it was irresistible. Seth wanted to undo all his buttons, fuck him giddy, and then watch about a million episodes of bad 80s sitcoms with him. In short, Seth wanted to marry him.

  “Any man would be lucky to have you.”

  “Then could we try? One kiss. If it’s too weird, we’ll abort and come up with another plan.”

  “It’s going to be weird,” he warned. “We’ve been friends forever.”

  “But that’s what I like about it.” Carson held out his hand, and Seth felt himself drawn forward to take it. “For me, knowing who I’m kissing isn’t weird. It’s nice. But I understand if it doesn’t work for you.”

  “It’s not like I can only kiss strangers.” Just that he mostly only had.

  “One kiss,” Carson wheedled.

  One kiss. All he had to do was pretend it didn’t work for him, and Carson would give up on this outlandish plan that was all his fault in the first place. He tipped his face up, keeping his eyes closed so he wouldn’t have to watch as the love of his life fake-kissed him. There was a warm, light press of lips, fleeting but perfect.

  Was that it?

  He opened his eyes to find Carson hovering over him. Their breath mingled together as their eyes caught and held. All the noise and clamor around them faded into nothing as time froze. Carson’s mouth dipped again, his own rose to meet it, and—

  “There you are.” Trisha’s voice broke them apart. “If you two lovebirds don’t save it for after the ceremony, there isn’t going to be a ceremony. The clerk just called your names. Come on.”

  Carson raised their joined hands and pressed his lips to Seth’s hand. “Shall we?”

  Understanding all the import behind the seemingly innocuous question, Seth swallowed back his nerves with a nod. He had a reputation for making terrible mistakes, but this was going to be the worst one ever. One tiny taste of Carson, and he already knew he’d never be happy with less than all of him.

  They walked hand-in-hand back to the courtroom where a magistrate was waiting to perform their ceremony. The courtroom echoed with just the five of them in it. The ceremony was short, devoid of the usual rigamarole, and Seth didn’t hear most of it. Only Carson’s hand wrapped firmly around his own kept him upright as the magistrate recited familiar words he’d never expected to have directed his way.

  “Do you take this man...?”

  Carson’s deep, familiar voice said I do without any hesitation or the least bit of tremble. When his own turn came, the words came out shaky and quiet, but the magistrate accepted them, continuing on as if it didn’t make any difference to her whether he said yes or no. She made a solemn-sounding proclamation and that was it. They were married.

  “You’re supposed to kiss now,” Leslie prompted.

  Carson squeezed his hand like it was a question, and Seth stepped forward until their bodies brushed. A shudder ran through him as Carson lowered his head and placed another of those soft but certain kisses on his lips.

  “You okay?” Carson asked as he stepped away.

  “Yeah, sure.” He ought to make a joke, but he couldn’t think of anything funny to say. He’d just married his best friend. It was fucking unreal.

  “Well,” Leslie said. “What’s done is done, I guess. Congratulations.” They offered their hand, and Seth dropped Carson’s hands to take it. Trisha gave Carson a hug, then came for him.

  “I’m so happy for you,” she whispered into his ear. “I always knew you belonged together.”

  “Yeah, me too.”

  “So where’s the honeymoon?” Leslie asked as they all trooped back out of the courtroom.

  “New York,” Carson answered. “We’re moving this weekend. Just wanted to do the deed first.”

  And pick up their money. Tomorrow morning they would sign the paperwork to trigger a lump sum payout, and then their adventure would begin. But where would it end? In another courtroom—this time in front of a judge granting them a divorce?

  “You have to have a honeymoon,” Trisha said, ever the romantic. “Or at least, you know, a wedding night.” She made an obnoxious wink-wink face. “You can’t spend your first night as married men with Carson’s parents or Seth’s roommates.”

  “We don’t really have anywhere to go,” he hedged. Bad enough they’d soon be spending every night to
gether. His torment didn’t need to start tonight.

  “You know what? Take my place. I’ll stay at Leslie’s. Just let me dash home and change the sheets. Don’t worry. I’ll make it nice.” She rushed away, towing a smirking Leslie along with her.

  “I don’t think we fooled Leslie,” Carson said.

  “We’re not going to fool anyone. This was such a bad idea.”

  “We don’t have to.”

  “We already did!”

  “That was just somebody saying words. It’s not official until we sign this thing and file it.” Carson waved the certificate the clerk had handed him. “We can just rip it up. I feel like I forced you into this.”

  “You didn’t.”

  “Well, Trisha helped. But you didn’t get a chance to say yes or no before she barged in. And we didn’t really finish that kiss either. Tell you what—let’s hang on to this certificate for now. We’ll take Trisha up on her offer, spend the night together, see how it goes. Tomorrow, we’ll know.”

  Tomorrow, Carson would know all right. He’d know Seth was mad gone on him. And then what? Seth hung his head, resigned to his fate. He would have this one night with Carson—their wedding night—and then he’d let Carson go.

  Stupid money. From the moment they’d won it, the money had been trying to come between them, and now it looked like it was going to win.

  Chapter 5 Carson

  Trisha had really gone all out. Her apartment always looked like a showplace, but tonight it bloomed with flowers. The lights were turned down, a low voice crooned pretty words from hidden speakers, and the table sparkled with delicate china and long stem crystal.

  Look in the oven, a note on the counter read. Carson pulled open the oven door to find a casserole simmering inside.

  “She left us her baked ziti,” he told Seth. That stuff was legendary. A little garlicky for a wedding night, maybe, but legendary.

  “And a bottle of wine,” Seth said, turning it over in his hands. “Red. To go with the ziti, I guess.”

  Neither one of them was much of a wine drinker, but a wedding night was a wedding night. Carson popped the cork and filled their glasses, but not very high. Important stuff needed to happen tonight—stuff they should be sober for. Seth seemed to be on a different page, because he downed his serving in a single swallow and came up sputtering.

  “It’s not tequila,” Carson told him. “You’re supposed to sip it.”

  “I’ll sip the next one.” Seth filled his glass to the top this time.

  “You really don’t want to be here, do you?” He put his own glass down dispiritedly. He’d been wondering if he and Seth could be more than friends, but the answer was obviously no. Seth wouldn’t even entertain the possibility. “I’ll just go.”

  “Who says you have to go?”

  “You’re clearly uncomfortable. Dammit, Seth. We used to be friends. This whole thing is such a mess.” He moved into the living area of Trisha’s apartment and plopped himself down on one end of her plush purple couch. Its cushions swallowed him up like a giant lavender hug, but they didn’t bring him any comfort. He dropped his head into his hands and tried to stem the sorrow welling up in him.

  “You okay?” Seth sat down next to him, the cushions dipping with his weight. He put a hand on Carson’s shoulder and rubbed lightly.

  “I will be.”

  “I didn’t know you were so invested in this.” Seth took a drink from the glass in his hand, then parked it thoughtfully on the coffee table in front of him. “It was my harebrained idea.”

  “I guess I bought into it.”

  It’d seemed like a chance—like a good solution to their financial situation and an opportunity for the two of them to find out if there was anything between them other than friendship. Sometimes he thought Seth was attracted to him, but right now he felt about as attractive as a wad of used chewing gum.

  “But I guess it’s not going to work.”

  “So we’re agreed,” Seth said. “No fake marriage.”

  “No fake marriage.” He stuck out his hand, and Seth shook it. Then he pulled the certificate from the breast pocket of his suit and went over to the candles Trisha had set out for them and set it on fire, letting it burn down in his hand until the heat hurt his fingers as much as the rejection hurt his heart. He dropped the remains in the sink, then slid the ring he’d bought only yesterday off his finger. It’d had a short run.

  Seth took his off too and they lined them up next to each other on the counter. Seth’s hadn’t fit anyway. His fingers were longer and thinner than Carson’s, so graceful when he used them on stage, gesturing to match his words. Carson wanted to grab them and kiss them and beg Seth to give the two of them a shot, but he’d already pushed too hard. If he kept at it, he wouldn’t even end up with Seth as a friend.

  “We’re still rich,” he said with a little laugh.

  “You said a million dollars wasn’t rich.”

  “Rich enough, I guess.” He reminded himself how amazing it was going to be to take a few years to concentrate on his craft, but the money felt like a consolation prize.

  “So then how do we handle this?” Seth asked.

  “The way we should’ve in the first place. We claim the money as two friends who bought a ticket together and trust each other to be fair if one of us makes it big and the other doesn’t. I wouldn’t want anything you were forced to give me anyway.”

  “Same.” Seth clapped him on the back, and Carson clapped Seth on his, and they moved into one of those bro hugs where they were practically beating on each other.

  Seth’s body felt so good against his—warm and firm. It reminded him of the kiss they’d almost shared earlier, right before Trisha had interrupted them. For a moment, he’d thought Seth was into it. His pupils had been so huge, his expression so anticipatory. Carson had been one stolen second away from thoroughly claiming him.

  He pulled back now, slowly separating their bodies, to find Seth wearing that same expression.

  “Seth?”

  Seth cupped the side of his face, stroking a thoughtful thumb over his cheekbone. “You never did kiss me. Not really.” He leaned forward, coming up on his toes so their mouths aligned. Carson grabbed him to steady him, as if Seth were fragile or clumsy. Seth can stand on his own two feet was the last thought he had before their mouths connected.

  The kiss Seth gave him was as light as the one they’d shared outside the phonebooth, as brief and as chaste. It wasn’t the kiss he’d have given Seth if he’d had one more minute to do it, but here they were—alone, lit by candles and serenaded by music, dressed in their best suits. And so he did what he’d been on the verge of doing before: he opened his mouth and took.

  Seth’s head dropped back from the force of his assault, but his body pressed forward. His hands clutched and grabbed at Carson’s arms, bruising through the thick material of his suit. A sound came up from the back of his throat that Carson wanted more of, so he dove in deeper, plumbing the recesses of Seth’s mouth with his tongue. His hands worked down Seth’s torso, finding his ass and using it to pull him in tight, and there—

  God. Carson drew his head back, madly inhaling the oxygen his starved system needed. “You’re hard.” He pushed his hips forward again, checking.

  “So are you.” Seth bumped back.

  “I thought you didn’t find me attractive.”

  “When did I ever say that?”

  “You didn’t want to be married to me,” Carson reminded him. They’d just taken off their rings and burned their marriage certificate.

  “I didn’t want to be fake married to you. And I never said I didn’t want to have sex with you.”

  “So, wait. Let me get this straight. You do want to have sex with me?”

  Seth eased himself away. He shoved his hands in his pockets and fixed Carson with a calculating stare. “Do you want to have sex with me?”

  “Obviously. It was my idea, remember? Married people have sex? Same bed? Stay faithful, keep each o
ther satisfied? Any of that ringing a bell?”

  Seth shook his head, and Carson, whose hopes had risen, felt them fall again.

  “That’s just you being practical,” Seth said. “What about now, when we’re not married? Do you want to have sex with me now?”

  “Yes, I want to have sex with you now. Boner.” He pointed to his pants, even though there wasn’t actually still a boner in them. There would be if Seth plastered himself all over him again.

  “That was for me?”

  Carson threw up his hands. “Who else would it be for?”

  “It’s just— I’ve waited a long time for that. I never thought—”

  “You’ve been waiting?” Carson smacked his head. Could they really have been so stupid? “Seth, come here.” He held out his hand and Seth tentatively took it. He used it to draw Seth back into his arms where he belonged. “Let’s try this again.”

  This time there was no hesitation. He knew how Seth’s mouth felt against his—the light rasp of stubble along his upper lip and the warm sweep of his tongue—and he dove into it hungrily. Seth responded with a matching eagerness, all limbs now as he worked to get Carson’s jacket off his shoulders.

  “We have way too many clothes on for this,” Carson said, breaking their kiss to wrestle his jacket the rest of the way off. “And also, we’re in a kitchen.”

  “But we have a bed.” Seth propelled him to the bedroom where Trisha had outdone herself. They paused in the doorway to appreciate the fluffy pink duvet turned back to reveal white satin sheets covered in red rose petals. “Holy shit.”

  “Leslie is a lucky person,” Carson observed as he divested himself of the rest of his clothes.

  “You sure about this?” Seth asked, seeming unsure himself again.

  This back and forth was going to kill him. He stopped unbuttoning his shirt to fix Seth with a questioning look.