by J. P. Oliver
I Hate To Love You
A Contemporary Gay Romance
J.P. Oliver
Contents
Hi there!
1. Mason
2. Liam
3. Mason
4. Liam
5. Mason
6. Liam
7. Mason
8. Liam
9. Mason
10. Liam
11. Mason
12. Liam
13. Mason
14. Liam
15. Mason
16. Liam
17. Mason
18. Liam
19. Liam
20. Mason
Epilogue
Chapter 1 Preview – Made For You
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I Hate To Love You
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1
Mason
Nothing felt right with the world. I felt askew, always a little off balance.
I took a moment to compose myself. Slumped into the driver’s seat of my car, I pinched the bridge of my nose as I tried to take a deep, slow breath. It had been a long day at work, longer than it needed to be. And it definitely didn’t help that Rick called me late last night to vent about Steven. But what was I supposed to do? Ignore his call? The poor kid had a lot on his plate, and by proxy, so did I. But I swallowed my frustration and counted backwards from ten, ridding my mind of thoughts of work, about the sorry excuse that was our Dad. I was off the clock, after all. It was time to relax. And what better way to relax than meeting up to have dinner with an old, dear friend?
I was immediately greeted by the restaurant’s friendly young hostess when I walked through the heavy front doors. She was a cute little thing, with a massive smile and rosy cheeks. She started to reach to her right where a stack of menus sat waiting on her podium.
“Table for one?” she asked.
“I’m actually meeting someone. They might be here already,” I replied.
The hostess glanced down at the clipboard in front of her. “Their name?”
“Drew. Drew Reed? He’s a redhead. Super freckly.”
“Really loud and makes a lot of jokes?”
I nodded, clicking my tongue. “That’s him.”
“Right this way.”
I followed the hostess through the maze of tables, illuminated only by the gentle orange lighting from the mounted wall lamps. It was a fancier place, tiny tea candles everywhere to help set the fine dining mood. I caught a glimpse of Drew’s red hair before anything else. He was in a corner booth closer to the back, already working on a rather expensive bottle of red wine. Drew finally looked up to see me approach, quickly and awkwardly sliding out of his seat to greet me. He held his arms open wide to hug me, squeezing so tight that it knocked the air out of my lungs.
“Holy shit, hi!” he laughed.
I patted him on the back and smiled. “Long time no see, stranger.”
“It hasn’t been that long.”
“It was a year,” I chuckled.
“It doesn’t feel that long.”
“Probably because you refused not to Skype me every other day.”
“Yeah, that’s probably why.”
We took a seat across from each other, table separating us. This close, I could get a good look at my best friend. He’d been away overseas in Spain on business. He was a property developer, or something of that nature. I admittedly was never too sure of the exact nature of his work. His skin was significantly tanner than when he’d left, but I found that the golden brown of his normally pale white complexion suited him rather well. He looked refreshed, like a brand-new man. Drew sat straighter, held his head high and proud. There was a mischievously wicked gleam behind his green eyes that screamed that he was reinvigorated and energetic. Just looking at him made me feel the tiniest bit jealous.
Maybe I could do with a vacation.
“How’ve you been, man?” he asked me, picking up his wine to take a sip.
“Oh, you know,” I sighed. “Busy. Things have been really hectic with the new season of Sublime coming out next month.”
Drew gasped, tapping me quickly on the forearm. “You have to tell me, does Marissa end up with Leon? I swear to God, last season’s cliffhanger wrecked me.”
I scrunched my nose up, the corners of my lips ticking up into a grin. “Not telling.”
“Oh, come on, man. Just a hint.”
“I could be fired for leaking that information, you know.”
“Ah, well, you had a good run.”
I chuckled. “Love you, too, asshole.”
“Do you want some of this?” he asked, gesturing toward the open bottle.
I shook my head instinctively. “It’s cool. You know I don’t drink.”
“Right, sorry,” he hummed, happy expression falling momentarily. “How’s Steve doing? Any better?”
Scratching nervously behind my ear, I shrugged a shoulder and cast my eyes down to the table’s surface. I didn’t feel like lying to Drew, but I also didn’t want to tell him the truth and dampen the atmosphere of our little get-together. “Dad’s good,” I said eventually. I wasn’t entirely sure if I sounded confident or not. But Drew, bless his heart, decided not to pry.
“Well,” he continued, “thank you for agreeing to meet up. I’m really happy that you came.”
“Of course. I’d never skip out on a free meal.”
Drew snorted and rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t hide his amusement. He grinned wide, lips stretching from ear to ear, wild and happy like always. “Yeah, fucking right,” he quipped.
I placed my hand over my heart and pouted exaggeratedly. I wiped nonexistent tears away from under my eyes. “You mean I’m not getting a free ribeye out of this? That’s not what you said to me over Grindr.”
“You looked hotter in your pictures,” he joked without missing a beat.
I let my mouth fall open in mock horror. “How dare you. Take that back.”
“Can’t believe I was catfished again.”
“What do you mean again?”
“I told you about the time some dude catfished me, right? I think it was a couple years after we graduated college.”
“No way. I don’t think you ever told me this.”
“Yeah, yeah, I think he told me his name was Tony? Profile made him look like a total stud.”
I shook my head and grimaced. “And what did you end up with?”
Drew took another sip of his wine, smirking behind the glass before he finally answered. “Professor Wilmot. From the politics department.”
“What?” I gasped. “No, I don’t believe you.”
“It’s true. It was super embarrassing.”
“Did you end up… doing anything with him?”
He rolled his eyes and chuckled. “What do you think?”
“Yes?”
“No,” he corrected. “He was a closeted married man. I don’t do drama.”
“That’s surprisingly intelligent of you.”
“Speaking of drama,” Drew hummed. He strummed his fingers on the surface of the table, resting his hand on his chin with his elbow balanced on the table just before him. “How’d things go? With Shawn, I mean.”
Shawn. That rat bastard was bound to come up in conversation sooner or later. But I had been hoping that it would be later.
“He’s, er…” I stammered. I quickly glanced away, fiddling with the fork
just to my right. I pricked the pads of my fingers on the tines absentmindedly as I allowed my eyes to wander. “Forget about him. What about you and that guy you were dating? Still a thing?”
“Am dating,” he corrected, looking rather proud.
“Look at you, going off to foreign countries to find hot men. Are you ever going to allow me to meet him in person?”
“Actually,” Drew started sheepishly, “that’s one of the reasons why I wanted to meet up with you.”
I suddenly realized that there were four menus laid out before us, not two. Frowning, I glanced back up at Drew, who suddenly seemed very sheepish. “Are we expecting company?” I asked, suspicious.
Drew clicked his tongue and took a quick breath in through his teeth. He smiled wide, but there was something apologetic behind his eyes. “So, don’t be mad,” he started. “Christian’s coming.”
“And the fourth menu?” I interrogated.
Drew shifted nervously in his seat, the leather padding of the booth squeaking under his weight.
I pressed my lips into a thin line. I didn’t like where this was going. “What did you do?”
“Do you remember Liam?”
“Liam Porter? Liam used-to-call-me-names-everyday Porter?” I sat up a little straighter, suddenly very uncomfortable. “What the hell? You know I hate him.”
“I have a good reason, I swear,” insisted Drew defensively. “I know you don’t like him, Mason, but he’s my friend.”
“And my worst enemy.”
Drew rolled his eyes and sighed. “Oh, muffin,” he said dryly. “Look, I haven’t seen either of you in a long while, so I wanted to catch up with the both of you. Two birds, one stone. Besides, I have something important I need to tell you two, so sue me.”
“I’ll have my lawyer call yours,” I jibed.
“I’ll remind you that you used to have a super huge crush on him.”
“Yeah, when I was twelve,” I insisted.
“So?”
“People change, Drew. Just like their taste.”
And that was when, just over Drew’s shoulder, I saw him.
Liam walked in through the front doors of the restaurant, tall and handsome and exuding an air of confidence that made my intestines tie themselves up in an ugly little knot. He had his dirty blond hair swept back, held in place with gel. He wore his beard trimmed and neat, accenting the strong angle of his jawline. He had on a gray t-shirt that was distressingly tight, hugging his chiseled torso and massive shoulders and arms to leave absolutely nothing to the imagination. He was a little underdressed for a fancy restaurant like this, but judging by how red the hostess’s cheeks turned and the way that she visibly swooned, it looked like he would get away with it. There was no denying that Liam Porter was a handsome son of a bitch.
And I hated him with a passion.
Hey, nerd! Come do my homework for me.
He approached the table on the heels of the blushing hostess, slapping his hand down on Drew’s shoulder with a loud clap. He was all smiles –handsome and charming in a way that made me want to strike him right across the face, just to bring him down a peg or two. Maybe, for once, he could join us mere mortals here on the ground. There was no denying that he was gorgeous, what with his dazzling blue eyes and mesmerizing presence. I didn’t realize until he was a mere foot away that he had me holding my breath in quiet anticipation.
Too bad he was such an asshole.
“Drew, my dude!” he cheered. “Sorry I’m late. Traffic was a bitch.”
“No worries, man,” replied Drew. “You’re here now. That’s all that matters.” Our mutual best friend stood, allowing himself to be dragged into an obnoxiously boisterous bro hug.
“How the fuck you been? Nice of you to drop by to pay us little folk a visit.”
“I’ve been good. Business has been crazy.”
“I’d imagine, superstar,” Liam chuckled, punching Drew playfully in the arm. “Working for any big celebrity clients yet? Do they make unreasonable demands like they do on TV?”
“No, no,” said Drew, shaking his head. “Nothing like that. But how’s your freelancing going? You went full-time just before I left for my trip.”
“Web development’s always in high demand. I’m living the dream.”
Liam’s attention finally fell on me, his expression washing away almost immediately.
“Oh,” was all he said. “You’re here.”
Get out of the way, four-eyes.
“Hello, Liam,” I greeted flatly. I remained seated. He made no move to greet me as jovially as he did with Drew. Fine by me, really. It’s not like I wanted him to wrap his strong arms around me or anything. A guy of his size could probably snap a pipsqueak like me in half like a twig.
“Liam, you remember Mason, don’t you?” Drew piped up quickly, trying to rush past the initial, but obvious, awkwardness.
“Er, right. Yeah. ‘Sup, bro?” He said this with a quick upward flick of the head.
I fought against the urge to roll my eyes. Seriously? Talk about a classic douche. Why did he still talk like a typical high school jock? The only difference between then and now was that Liam’s voice had deepened significantly, gravelly and deliciously gruff. It was jarring, really, to see how much Liam had matured –and yet, not at all. Some things really didn’t change.
Liam slid into the booth next to Drew, obviously choosing to sit with his best friend rather than the nerdy kid he used to tease relentlessly every day for years. There was clearly no love lost between us. It felt like the air temperature had dropped by a couple of degrees, an uncomfortable tension suddenly settling over the table. Drew, ever the savior, was the first to speak.
“So, I want to thank you for agreeing to see me,” he began clearly.
“Of course,” I said with a gentle smile.
“What’s this all about?” inquired Liam. His voice was wonderfully smooth and warm, like golden honey or soft navy velvet run against the palm of my hand. I hated it. I really, really hated it. But why did I so desperately cling to his every word?
What? Loser going to cry?
“I wanted to ask you in person,” continued Drew. “I didn’t think it’d be appropriate over the phone.”
“Dude, out with it. The suspense is killing me.”
“You two are arguably my best friends, and it would really mean a lot to me if you were there with me…” A brilliantly blinding smile cracked onto Drew’s freckled face. “As my best men.”
“What?” breathed Liam. He looked weirdly stunned, eyes wide and face a little pale. He seemed unusually upset for hearing such great news.
Drew beamed, looking up just in time to greet a fourth unexpected guest. The man was tall, classically handsome in an old Hollywood sort of way. He had a square jaw, dark black hair that was cropped and neatly trimmed, strong brows, and long, mesmerizing eyelashes that lined sparkling dark eyes. He was dressed in a perfectly ironed, wrinkle-free salmon pink button-down, matched with black dress pants and bespoke black leather shoes. Drew stood up to greet the man, planting a passionate kiss on his lips. I looked away, giving them their privacy. There was a difference between public displays of affection and whatever the hell I was witnessing. They eventually broke apart, Drew slowly turning to us to introduce his make-out buddy.
“Liam, Mason, this is Christian O’Hare,” he explained, a little breathless. “He’s my fiancé.”
2
Liam
He’s my fiancé.
Fuck. Great. Just great. Of course this kind of shit would happen to me. My best friend and man I had been secretly in love with for years just introduced me to his fiancé, and all I wanted to do was get up and leave. I knew Drew had been dating some guy, but that was exactly it –some guy. I had no idea he was really this serious about the dude. I thought I had more time. My chest felt unbearably tight, squeezing what little air I had back out of my lungs. I quickly realized that I had been grinding my teeth, molars squeaking against molars, before I remem
bered that I should probably be smiling. Even though it killed me, I watched Drew kiss Christian fervently. It was so heartbreakingly obvious that he was happy. Did it make me a terrible person for wanting his engagement to fall apart? Was I an asshole for hoping they wouldn’t work out so I could maybe have a shot?
Probably.
Definitely.
Dammit. I didn’t want to be that guy.
Mason stood up from his seat to greet Christian properly, shaking his hand. The guy hadn’t changed a bit since the last time I saw him. The last time Mason and I were in the same room, we were all attending Drew’s graduation party almost four years ago. It had been a miserable time, primarily because Mason wouldn’t stop shooting me dirty looks. I guessed that I was also partially to blame for the hostility. There was just something about Mason that got under my skin. Sure, I annoyed him on purpose every now and then when we were kids, but that was all in good fun. We had never gotten along –not in elementary school, not in middle school, and definitely not in high school. It was a miracle we hadn’t killed each other somewhere along the way.
It honestly took me a moment to recognize him when I first arrived. He wasn’t the adorably shy little nerd that I remembered him to be. Mason had ditched his hideous set of thick-rimmed glasses, and he actually had a really pretty smile now that he no longer had braces. His face had filled out a bit since, angles far sharper and pronounced. But he still wore the same serious expression, the same judgmental look in his mesmerizing grayish-blue eyes that screamed I’m better than you. Even the way he held himself screamed superiority.
Perfect posture, perfect manners, perfect everything.