Faking Alec

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Faking Alec Page 23

by Anders Grey


  He tilted his head, looking cheerfully smug. “Ah, right. And, uh…” He tapped his chin in fake-thought. “What about that other meaning?”

  I let out a breathless laugh. “You idiot. I know you didn’t forget.”

  “No, I really did. Honestly.” Alec grinned. “Remind me, Rowan?”

  I gently rolled the gardenia flower in my palm, the movement stirring its sweet scent into the air.

  “Secret love,” I said.

  He nodded sagely. “Oh, right.”

  I raised a brow. “So which meaning does this flower have, Alec?”

  Leaning in to bump his forehead against mine, Alec murmured, “I think you’re smart enough to figure that out.”

  He kissed me again. His lips were softer than the gardenia petals.

  We reconvened by the gazebo, where Tiffany—still in her full wedding gown—had kicked back on a lawn chair with an entire bottle of wine. She wore sunglasses and sipped straight from the bottle with a crazy straw.

  I couldn’t tell if she was taking this better or worse than I expected.

  “Hey,” I said.

  Tiffany beamed. “Hi, Row and Alec. Hey, if you say your names together, it’s Rowanalec. Slides right off the tongue, like you two were made for each other.”

  She giggled. Sure, she was a little tipsy at two o’clock in the afternoon, but she fucking deserved it.

  I sat next to her, putting a hand on her shoulder. “Are you okay? I mean, okay as you can be in this situation?”

  The grin she shot me was more real than the rest I’d seen on this trip. “I’m good. Great, actually. Who knew kicking my cheating ex-fiancé in the nuts would be so cathartic?”

  “Did you actually?” Alec chuckled. “I thought I saw him leaving with a bit of a limp.”

  She took another nonchalant sip of wine. “I might’ve gotten a good hit in.”

  Alec shuddered. “Remind me not to piss you off.”

  “Hell hath no wrath like a Tiffany scorned,” I added.

  She sat up and lifted her sunglasses to reveal red-rimmed eyes. She’d obviously got a good cry out of her system before we showed up. She jammed the wine bottle into the cup holder and took our hands, one from me and one from Alec.

  “I’m sorry, you guys. You kept trying to tell me the truth, but I wouldn’t listen. Seriously, I don’t even want to imagine what would’ve happened if I went through with this wedding.” She shuddered. “Can you say clusterfuck?”

  “It was a hard position to be in,” Alec said gently. “Mark was always good at lying.”

  Tiffany scoffed in disgust. “Ugh. I don’t even want to hear that asshole’s name. You know what? From now on, if you’re gonna talk about him, his new name is capital-A Asshole.”

  Me and Alec exchanged amused snorts like a couple of immature twelve-year-olds.

  “I like it,” Alec said. “Suits him.”

  Tiffany frowned at me sympathetically. “And I’m sorry it had to be Kyle, of all people. Like, I know you guys broke up ages ago, but seriously, what a disaster.”

  I shrugged. “Not really. In fact, those two douchebags are perfect for each other. May they live shittily ever after.”

  She tilted her head. “Wait, what do you mean?”

  I looked at Alec, who nodded.

  It was time to tell the truth. The whole truth.

  Alec held my hand as I prepared myself to re-tell the story. Just as I finished giving Tiffany the real story of what happened between me and Kyle, Mom appeared behind us.

  “Rowan,” she said with a concerned glance. “I just overheard about Kyle. Is that true?”

  I sighed heavily. I’d hoped that my family wouldn’t have to find out, but now that it was out in the open, I felt strangely refreshed. “Yes.”

  With fresh tears in both their eyes, Mom and Tiffany hugged me at the same time. I choked but patted them in return, appreciating the gesture of the crushing bear hug.

  “Guys. Can’t breathe,” I squeaked out.

  “I wish you felt like you could’ve told us, honey,” Mom said, brushing my hair back in the same way she always did since I was a kid.

  “I didn’t feel like I was strong enough,” I murmured. I glanced at Alec, who watched me with adoration in his eyes. “But I do now.”

  Alec smiled, and my heart fluttered.

  Mom went on. “If I’d known about Kyle, I never would’ve invited him here.” She scowled. “If I ever see him again, I’ll rip his balls off.”

  Tiffany nodded and thrust the wine bottle in the air. “Fuck exes! Oh, and speaking of—you two didn’t hear the announcement, did you?”

  I shook my head.

  Tiffany grinned widely. “Well, just because the wedding’s off doesn’t mean there can’t be a party. I decided to throw a big bonfire tonight. We’re gonna throw Asshole’s gifts in it. It’s gonna be awesome!”

  I felt happy knowing my cousin was dealing with her emotions in a healthy—if a little quirky, Tiffany-esque—way.

  “We wouldn’t miss it,” I promised.

  “Great!” She drummed her fingers against the bottle. “Now to find a place where they’ll actually let us light a bonfire and throw a bunch of crap in it…”

  The night was crisp and clear. Stars glinted in the black sky above alongside the creamy sliver of the moon. I inhaled the pleasant smell of wood and smoke billowing off the fire.

  I scooted closer to Alec, who leaned on my head and linked our fingers together. I felt his warm breath against my hair, a contrast to the cool air surrounding us.

  Luckily for Tiffany, her luck seemed to change course after dumping Mark—er, I mean, Asshole. Aunt Rose called up the park we’d been to earlier and discovered they had a big camping lot still available that would support our big group and a bonfire. Though I had a feeling she didn’t mention the fact that we’d be throwing shit in it.

  Tiffany handed me the box of fancy, expensive chocolates. “Here, Row. You and Alec should do the honor of starting us off since you saved my wedding.”

  I took the box. “I’m not sure saved is the right choice of words.”

  “Oh, it definitely is. You saved me tons of time, money, and effort that I don’t have to waste on some crap-bag.” She winked. “Go on.”

  Alec and I shredded the box like a pair of dogs eviscerating a stuffed toy. We handed each of my relatives a chocolate, who all delighted in chucking them in the flames. The firelight on Tiffany’s face made her look beautiful, and more importantly, vindicated.

  “I can’t believe I’m throwing stuff in a bonfire with my boyfriend instead of walking the streets of Bali,” Alec said, chuckling.

  My cheeks tingled with heat from blushing and the fire. “Your boyfriend, huh?”

  “Did I stutter?”

  “No. I just like hearing you say it.”

  I slipped my arm around his waist possessively. No way was Alec going to Bali or anywhere else without me clinging to him now.

  I leaned in close. “Hey. Are we still playing that fake-not-fake game?”

  “Nope. No more fake anything.”

  He kissed me chastely on the lips. I could tell he wanted to do more but was keeping it PG-13 in front of my family. His smile was so handsome in the firelight, and it dawned on me just how fucking gorgeous my boyfriend was. I was the luckiest man in the world.

  “The way I feel about you is one hundred percent real, Rowan.”

  My heart swelled and did a backflip from affection. “So, I’m still your boyfriend even when my relatives aren’t around?”

  Alec quirked a brow. “Especially then. Because then I can—”

  And then he whispered all the dirty things he wanted to do to me in my ear.

  34

  Epilogue: Alec

  Three Months Later

  With a satisfying stretch, I sat back from the computer monitor and took a second to appreciate my own work. The stunning spreads of to-be magazine pages were beautiful, if I did say so myself.

  After T
iffany’s Bonfire Weekend (which is what we were all calling it now instead of Tiffany’s Wedding Getaway because, well, you know), I moved in with Rowan. Since he owned his own successful business and was financially comfortable, I didn’t have to scramble to find work and settle for anything less than good, which was a huge relief.

  After Harvey let me go, I took a hard look at myself and what I wanted from my career. I loved my job as a photographer, but now that I’d had a taste of freedom, I found myself hesitant to hit up similar positions at other magazines. That’s when Rowan had shot me a raised brow and a wry smile and said, “Well, why don’t you just start your own, then?”

  So I did.

  I had a real office back at home, but I also had a mini-office in the back of Rowan’s shop that I liked to use because it meant being close to him. I loved knowing he was just one room over in that weirdly sexy apron, which I often imagined being his only article of clothing.

  Unfortunately, the mini-office had the added side-effect of being a little too close to Rowan, if you catch my drift.

  As my mind wandered to naked-except-the-apron Rowan, I was suddenly very aware of the tightness in my pants. I chewed my cheek. I wasn’t going to get any work done at this rate.

  There was only one thing to do to fix this.

  “Uh. Hey, babe,” I called out, a slight hoarseness in my voice. “Could you come here and help me a sec?”

  Rowan appeared in the doorway, wiping his hands on his apron. I loved how adorable he looked wearing that thing. Once again, I fantasized it being the only thing he was wearing, and how his cock would tent beneath the apron and—

  “Sure,” Rowan said, popping into the room. “What’s up?”

  Relieved he took the bait, I leaned back in my office chair, folding my hands and frowning like I was a big-time, very important CEO with some grave news to share.

  “We’ve got a problem,” I said.

  Rowan blinked in confusion. “What? Did the computer crash again?”

  I shook my head, careful not to let my grin seep through. “That’s not it.”

  Rowan hurried closer with a furrowed brow and looked at my screen, trying to decipher the problem. “What, then?”

  I spun around and grabbed Rowan’s hips, pushing him down to straddle my waist. His face turned redder than the bouquet of roses he’d put on my desk earlier this morning.

  “The problem,” I began seriously, “is that you’re out there in the front room too often, and unfortunately, I’m very horny.

  Rowan barked out a laugh. “Oh, I see. I’m so sorry, Alec. Will you survive until the shop closes?”

  I hung my head, trying to look weak and pathetic so he’d take mercy on me. “No. I don’t think I can go on like this…”

  Rolling his eyes, Rowan sighed. “What ails you this time? Is your Black Hole Ass Disorder flaring up again?”

  “It’s much more serious than that,” I muttered with a fake cough. “If I don’t suck your cock, I’m afraid I’ll fade away.”

  Rowan groaned, embarrassed by my stupid antics, but an obvious blush crept onto his cheeks. I knew he liked playing this little game, too.

  I got what I wanted. Rowan teased me with a trail of kisses along my jaw. His chest pressed closer to mine, and the warm weight of him in my lap made my cock twitch.

  “Alec, you are so dumb,” he said with a laugh as he got off my lap.

  I pouted like a sad puppy. “Hey, wait, where are you going?”

  He paused by the door, sensually slinking his body against the frame as he shot me a half-lidded gaze over his shoulder and purred, “To put the out-to-lunch sign up on the front door, obviously.”

  I grinned lazily when he returned, slithering against my body.

  “Rowan,” I murmured. “I am so glad we aren’t faking it anymore.”

  About the Author

  Anders Grey lives with his husband and two furry kids of the canine variety.

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  Also by Anders Grey

  Faking Alec

  Hating Cain

 

 

 


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