In Pieces

by Alexa Land

  In Pieces

  a M/M erotic romance by Alexa Land

  Book Three in the Firsts and Forever Series

  Books by Alexa Land Include:

  Feral

  Tinder (Book One of The Tinder Chronicles)

  And the Firsts and Forever Series:

  Way Off Plan

  All In

  In Pieces

  Copyright 2013 by Alexa Land. All rights reserved. No reproduction, copy or transmission in whole or in part of this publication is permitted without express written consent from the author.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either used fictitiously or are the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, business establishments or locales is purely coincidental.

  This book contains sexually explicit material

  and is only intended for adult readers.

  This book is dedicated to Rianna

  Reader

  Listener

  Giver of awesome advice

  and best of all,

  Friend

  I live my life in pieces.

  There are all these different parts of me, parts I can’t bring together. There’s the hooker, the student, the artist, the best friend. The lost boy.

  Will the real Christopher Robin Andrews please stand up?

  Nah, then again, don’t.

  This is my life right now. It doesn’t matter which of these is the real me.

  I’m a collection of fragments, bits of something broken, loosely scooped together in an open hand. And that’s the best I can hope for right now. The only way I can be. Yes, I exist in pieces, but I’m holding them together.

  I’m holding me together.

  And I’m getting through today.

  Chapter One

  “It’s so damn beautiful, I could cry.”

  “Do you really like it?”

  “I love it!” Mrs. Dombruso exclaimed. “And I’m leaving it like this, even after the wedding. Some day when you’re a famous artist Christopher Robin, they’re gonna make this place into a museum. People will pay money to see this mural!”

  Doubtful. I took a hard look at the trompe l’oeil snowy forest that I’d just finished painting. The mural filled the back wall of the grand ballroom in Mrs. Dombruso’s Queen Anne Victorian. She’d been busy pulling together a New Year’s Eve wedding for her grandson Dante and my best friend Charlie, who’d gotten engaged at Thanksgiving. I’d been trying to help out where I could, and had been skeptical that we could pull it off in such a short time frame. But then, I’d completely underestimated the force of nature that was Stana Dombruso.

  After deciding on a winter wonderland theme for the wedding, she’d had this space repainted in crisp white with blue accents before asking me to add the mural. She’d also found dozens of big, beautiful crystal snowflakes somewhere, which had been hung by a carpenter from the high ceiling. The room looked so pretty and romantic, and I was worried that my stark birch forest was hitting the wrong note.

  “You sure it’s not too desolate?” I asked her, scratching my cheek. I had two weeks off, from both art school and my job, and had impulsively decided to see if I could grow a beard. The answer, apparently, was no. A week into this little experiment, my mighty facial hair was about an eighth of an inch long. And it was getting shaved off before the wedding since I was the best man, so my super manly beard didn’t stand a chance.

  “If it was desolate, I’d tell you.” That I believed. She really was the type of person to tell you exactly what was on her mind. Still though….

  “Maybe if I lightened the sky, made it more of a pale blue….”

  She sighed dramatically. “You’re such a perfectionist! Stop fretting.”

  “I’m not fretting, I just want it to be right.”

  “Christopher, it’s magical. Everyone’s gonna love what you’ve done here, you’ll see.”

  “Ok. I’m still going to lighten up that sky, though.”

  Mrs. Dombruso looked around her wistfully and changed the subject by saying, “You know, all this wedding planning has made me think that maybe I wanna tie the knot again.”

  “Aren’t you already married?”

  “Technically yes, but there are always loopholes.”

  “Loopholes?”

  “Sure. The Catholic Church says I can’t get divorced, but then, look at Henry the Eighth. He separated the Church of England from the Catholic Church just so he could divorce his wife. Which just goes to show there’s always a way around these things.”

  I had to grin at that. “Do you have a suitor in mind?”

  “Not yet. But you know, they got that internet dating now. They didn’t have that when I was single. Back then, you were lucky if you had three, four guys to choose from,” she said. Mrs. Dombruso had to be about eighty, but that fact rarely seemed to occur to her. “Now, it’s like an all you can eat buffet. And maybe there’s a tasty little appetizer waiting for me somewhere out there.”

  “What about Mr. Dombruso?”

  “My husband has been shacked up with a slutty waitress in Florida for the past three years. And if he thinks he’s the only one that can reel in a young floozy, well, maybe I’ll just show him.”

  There was no point in trying to reason with her. When Mrs. Dombruso decided something, all you could do was brace yourself and hope for the best.

  “Look at the time!” she exclaimed suddenly. “Go and change, Christopher! Charlie’s gonna be picking you up for that party any minute.”

  “Maybe I shouldn’t go. There’s too much to do to get ready for the wedding, and we only have a week left.”

  “Nonsense! It’s Christmas Eve, go have fun!” She grinned at me and added, “Maybe you’ll meet a nice boy.”

  Not likely. “I don’t want you spending Christmas Eve by yourself,” I told her.

  “Oh, don’t you worry about me. My grandson Mikey and his children are coming over soon. The kids apparently put together a Christmas skit that they wanna perform for me. God help me,” she said, rolling her eyes. The doorbell chimed downstairs, and she said, “That’s probably Charlie. Hurry up and change, I’ll stall him!” We’d been trying to keep the revamped ballroom a surprise before the wedding.

  I went into the bathroom and traded out my painting clothes for my nicest pair of jeans. Then I put on a dark blue V-neck sweater over a white t-shirt and button-down shirt – I’d learned to layer my clothes to hide the fact that I was so skinny. After making an attempt at finger-combing my mop of curly blonde hair, I glanced at my reflection. I looked pale and tired, shadows underscoring my blue eyes. None of that was new. I didn’t linger in front of the mirror.

  When I got downstairs, Mrs. Dombruso was handing my best friend a bunch of framed photos from the mantel. “Or maybe this one. What do you think, Charlie?”

  “I don’t know. Do you maybe have a photo that’s more, um…current?” Charlie asked. He shot me a look of alarm as she turned her back to him and picked up a couple more photos. “Nana wants me to help pick out a picture for her internet dating profile,” Charlie told me. She had, at some point, insisted that both Charlie and I call her that, to make us feel like part of her family.

  She straightened her beaded baseball cap and tugged down the sleeves of her green velour track suit as she contemplated Charlie’s question. “Maybe I do need a more current photo. These ones from the sixties are out of date. I have a nice one of me from the eighties, though. I just have to find it.”

  “Well, we’d better get going, Nana,” I said, hoping to derail her momentum.

  “Yeah, you’re right. We can talk about this more tomorrow at Christmas dinner.” As she walked us to the door, she again abruptly changed the subject by sayin
g, “Christopher Robin, while you’re out tonight, try to convince Charlie he should wear white to the wedding. That way, he’ll match the color scheme.”

  “I’d feel like a dork in white. That’s just so…virginal.” He blushed as he said that.

  “He doesn’t have to wear white,” I said. “It’s his wedding, he can wear whatever he wants.”

  “We’re planning to wear tuxedos,” Charlie said.

  “That’s fine, they make some nice light blue ones that’ll go with the decor.”

  “Black tuxedos, Nana.”

  “You and Dante can’t wear black,” she insisted. “It’s gonna throw off my color scheme something fierce.”

  “Good luck getting Dante in any other color,” Charlie said.

  “Where is he, anyway?” I asked.

  Charlie grinned at that. “He’s doing some very last-minute Christmas shopping – way to procrastinate. He’ll meet us at the party. See you tomorrow, Nana,” he said, then kissed both her cheeks.

  Out on the sidewalk, we ran into Dante’s younger brother Mikey and his kids. Though just twenty-seven, he was a widower with three little boys. All of them were pulling on costumes, including Mikey. “Hi guys,” he said cheerfully.

  “Hey, Mike,” Charlie said with a smile (he was nice enough to resist calling his future brother-in-law Mikey, like the rest of the family did). “I don’t remember a giant box of corn flakes in the nativity.”

  Mikey was pulling on a big, rectangular cardboard cutout over his expensive suit. “I’m the manger. I don’t know why I agreed to this.”

  “We’re the three wisemens!” Mikey Junior exclaimed. He was a little seven-year-old clone of his dark-haired father, and was dressed in a red bathrobe with big, fake jewels glued to it and a giant red turban. “And this is Jesus!” He was holding a beat-up baby doll by the ankle, and hoisted it up in the air for us. I bit back a laugh.

  “They did a skit at church and insisted on recreating it for Nana,” Mikey Senior explained.

  “Wish I could stay and see this,” Charlie said with a grin, “but we’re meeting your brother across town. Have fun, see you tomorrow!”

  Charlie’s ancient Toyota truck was parked half a block away, and as we walked down the sidewalk he scooped up my hand and gave it a friendly squeeze. My best friend was very touchy-feely. I loved that about him. “Hi Christopher. You and I match today.” He too was dressed in jeans and a navy V-neck sweater, but there ended the similarities. Charlie was about six-two, a muscular former football player with dark brown hair and sparkling green eyes. He always looked like an ad for America, clean living, and apple pie.

  “We do.”

  “So, should we be worried about Mrs. Dombruso and this whole internet dating thing?” he asked.

  “Nah, she doesn’t even own a computer. She’ll probably forget all about it by this time tomorrow,” I said. “And speaking of which, are you all set for Christmas?”

  “I don’t know. I’m worried that I didn’t get Dante enough.”

  “What are you talking about? You got him plenty.” He’d had the great idea to sign his fiancé and himself up for a bunch of classes they could take together, everything from gourmet cooking to conversational French to photography.

  “There’s nothing tangible though, nothing to unwrap.”

  “So, stick a bow on your head and be waiting under the Christmas tree for him tomorrow morning.”

  A big smile spread across his handsome face. “I know you were joking, but I’m actually going to do that. I don’t think the bow will be on my head, though.” He winked at me.

  “Are you two spending tonight in the loft?” Even though it was still under construction, Charlie and his fiancé had been spending quite a few nights in their soon-to-be home. That was because they couldn’t keep their hands off each other, and with me as their roommate they had very little privacy in our apartment.

  “Yeah. Sorry, I know that means leaving you alone on Christmas morning.”

  We’d gotten to his truck, and he held the passenger door open for me as I said, “It’s not your job to babysit me, Charlie. And you and I can do our gift exchange after dinner, so it’s no big deal.” I kind of wished I hadn’t agreed to Christmas dinner with the Dombruso clan. That had been Charlie’s idea. He was forever trying to include me in events like that, because he knew if he didn’t, I’d be spending the holidays alone. It was sweet and he meant well, but I felt like such an outsider at these family gatherings.

  Right now, we were on our way to another event that I really shouldn’t be a part of. Charlie worked for his ex-boyfriend Jamie at an Irish pub called Nolan’s, in San Francisco’s Richmond district. And tonight, Jamie and his husband Dmitri were hosting a private Christmas party at the pub for friends, family and employees. Since I was none of the above I had no business attending this shindig, but Charlie insisted I come along as his guest.

  The party was in full swing when we arrived, and the place was absolutely packed. Since Charlie and Jamie had dated for eight years, Jamie’s half of this huge crowd all knew my best friend. Within a minute of arriving, Charlie was besieged by a flock of Jamie’s sisters and female cousins, offering congratulations on his engagement and asking to hear all about the wedding.

  We were soon joined by Jamie and Dmitri as well. These two were an interesting pair. They were almost total opposites in appearance and background, yet were clearly each other’s soulmates. Dmitri was a gorgeous and sophisticated Russian-American former gangster with jet black hair and blue eyes, dressed in an impeccable black button-down shirt and dress pants. And Jamie was a laid-back former cop and lifelong surfer, who was growing out his sandy blonde hair and had absolutely bizarre fashion sense. He was currently dressed in camo cargo shorts and a vintage Hawaiian shirt with a repeating pattern of Santas on surfboards.

  When he turned to face us, I saw that Jamie had a brown and black terrier strapped to the front of his chest in one of those baby carrier things, the dog’s little paws sticking straight out in front of him. Charlie burst out laughing when he saw Jamie, and gave him a hug around the little animal. “Dude, why are you wearing Tippy?”

  “Maureen’s on her honeymoon, so Dmitri and I are babysitting,” Jamie explained. “The dog’s completely freaked out because my sister’s gone. He wants to be carried constantly, and every time I try to put him down, he starts peeing on everything. So I figured this way, at least I’d have my hands free.”

  “The baby carrier is completely crazy. You know that, right?” Charlie was still grinning.

  “It’s good practice,” Jamie said cryptically, with a big smile.

  “Hi Christopher,” Dmitri said, extending his hand. “Merry Christmas.”

  I shook hands as I said, “Same to you,” and started to apologize for crashing their party. But before I could get that out, a tall blonde that looked like a Barbie snuck up behind him and covered Dmitri’s eyes.

  “Guess who!” she exclaimed.

  “Oh my God, Cat!” Dmitri said, whirling on her and grabbing her in a hug, sweeping her off her feet. “What are you doing here?”

  “Celebrating Christmas with you, of course.”

  “When’d you arrive?”

  “My plane landed an hour ago, I came straight from the airport. Hi Jamie.” She leaned over and kissed his cheek as he said hello, and then she gave Charlie a smile and a flirty wink.

  “You flew in that outfit?” Dmitri asked. She was wearing a tight silver mini dress and five inch heels. The dress was covered in sequins and would have made anyone else look like a disco ball, but on her it was hot.

  “Like I’d want to get molested by every TSA agent at the airport! I changed in the cab on the way over here.”

  “I thought you were spending Christmas with Joe’s family.”

  “Joe Rudin and I are kaput. I’m having the marriage annulled,” she said, brushing her long blonde hair back from her face. “I don’t know what I was thinking, marrying that man. Why didn’t you talk
me out of it?”

  Dmitri rolled his eyes at that. “Like you ever listen to me.”

  Cat noticed me awkwardly trying to slip away and grabbed my hand. “Hi, sorry to interrupt. I’m Catherine, Dmitri’s cousin.” She blinded me with a dazzling smile.

  “Christopher.”

  “You single, Christopher?” she asked.

  “Very.”

  “You gay?”

  “Again, very.”

  Her smile increased a few hundred watts, and she linked arms with me. “Let’s team up. I’m on the prowl tonight and need a wing man. You take the gay ones, I’ll take the straight ones, and we’ll flip for the bi boys. The men at this party won’t know what hit ‘em.” That I could believe. This woman was sex on stilettos.

  I knew the moment Dante Dombruso entered the party, just from my friend’s expression. Charlie’s face lit up beautifully, his jade green eyes sparkling, a smile on his full lips. It didn’t matter that there were a couple hundred people in this room. Every single one of them disappeared as far as my friend was concerned, except for one person. “Excuse me,” Charlie murmured, and pushed into the crowd. He and Dante reached each other in the center of the dance floor, and Dante gathered him in his arms and kissed him, passionately, deeply. The kiss was so hot that everyone in a fifty yard radius should have been fanning themselves.

  “Which of them do you have a crush on?” Catherine whispered, her arm still linked with mine.

  Apparently I’d been staring, and looked away quickly. “Neither.” That was kind of a lie. I did have a bit of a crush on Charlie, I’d had it from the moment I met him. But that was so completely pointless, and I was working on getting over it. “I guess I just envy that thing between them,” I said. “I can’t even imagine someone looking at me with such blind adoration.”

  “You don’t need blind adoration. You need to get laid,” she informed me.

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Because it’s what we all need. Come on, let’s go check out the boys at the bar.” To her cousin she said, “I’m in town for two weeks, D, and I’m staying with your sister Ani, only she doesn’t know it yet. And while I’m dying to catch up with you, right now I need to find a big, buff boy toy to make me forget all about Joe Rudin. Merry Christmas, cuz!” She kissed his cheek and towed me toward the bar.