by Susan Laine
After the Romance Novel
By Susan Laine
A Before… and After Story
Romance novels always end with a happy ever after. Right?
Evan and Adam are best friends, but they don’t know everything about each other. For one thing, Adam doesn’t know Evan writes and publishes gay romance novels until he discovers one while snooping on Evan’s laptop.
This revelation changes their relationship in ways neither could’ve imagined. Adam’s reaction to reading Evan’s stories is not what he expected, nor is the new way he’s looking at his lifelong pal. After all, Adam is straight, or so he’s always thought, and that is what Evan believes about Adam as well.
When Evan admits he might be bisexual, Adam suggests he try dating girls to find out for sure, but when Evan follows his advice, Adam is caught off guard by his feelings of jealousy. And when the date proves Evan isn’t bisexual, but gay, Evan’s request that Adam find him a guy might be the last straw.
How can Adam admit he wants that guy to be him? His epiphany will either end their relationship—or change it into something wonderful in their very own friends-to-lovers romance.
Table of Contents
Blurb
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
More from Susan Laine
About the Author
By Susan Laine
Visit Dreamspinner Press
Copyright
Chapter 1
“HEY, EVAN, are you ready—”
Adam stopped short when he heard the shower going behind the closed bathroom door. He wasn’t fazed. Adam was never early for school, so there was no reason for Evan to anticipate Adam’s surprise arrival.
Yawning and rubbing the last remnants of sleep from his blue eyes, Adam hopped down from the windowsill. Their houses in the suburbs were so close together that one of Evan’s bedroom windows opened close to Adam’s bedroom’s balcony. Once they’d figured that out as kids, they’d taken advantage of the situation often. And still did.
After stretching to pop the last of his tired muscles and joints, Adam wandered about the room. He’d been in his best friend’s bedroom so many times he knew where everything was, where it’d come from, and if something ever changed.
The worn, used leather couch where they watched TV or played video games. The always-full bookshelves—Evan was a huge nerd, a book geek of the highest order. The queen-size bed made of some wood that smelled good each time Adam got a close-up whiff. The writing desk with a stack of books, notebooks, papers, pens, and an open laptop.
Since Evan never rushed in the shower, Adam had time on his hands. He plopped down on the old black office chair, his designer jeans tightening uncomfortably, and decided to check out some of the latest Internet funnies. As he perused the screen, however, he saw a Word document pinned to the desktop.
Kilts and Hearths.
A frown of confusion formed on his forehead. Adam threaded a hand through his spiky black hair as he read the title again. What the heck was that?
Out of pure curiosity, he clicked open the file. Kilts and Hearths was also the title. After the title came a name. Eve Adams. Who the fuck was that? Adam sifted through his memory contact list of their school friends. No one by that name came to mind. Could it be someone Evan had a school assignment with? A new student maybe?
More puzzled than before, Adam started reading. By the time he’d skimmed over three chapters, his cheeks were flaming hot, and he had to swallow to get some saliva back into his dry mouth.
This is porn. Fuck. No, it’s worse than that. This is gay porn.
That wasn’t the worst or most surprising thing, however. The fact that the two young men engaging in explicit, graphic, and athletic sex were named Adam and Evan definitely was.
Adam read on, unable to look away. The sex scenes were written using detailed, raunchy language: every gasp, kiss, blow job, cock, and ass described with a flourish. It was vulgar and dirty and hot. Adam wasn’t gay, but even his body kindled in reaction to reading the vivid scenes unfolding in front of him. The evocative writing put him squarely in the room with the lovers.
Distracted by the story, Adam didn’t hear the door opening.
“Adam? Wow, you’re up early.”
Evan’s teasing tone startled Adam. He jumped up from the chair and stared at his best friend, whom he apparently didn’t know at all. Though a part of him felt guilty for prying, another part was too flummoxed to stop.
With a simple white terry cloth towel around his neck—probably to dry his hair with—Evan unintentionally showcased his nude, lithe figure. He was as tall as Adam but leaner, and his short blond hair had pink stripes today. Evan liked to mix it up with his hair color.
While Adam stood there trying to get it together, Evan towel-dried his hair, pitched the wet towel back toward the bathroom, and started to pull on his jeans, sans underwear, huffing in a pissed-off manner. The pants seemed to be stuck halfway up his lean hips, leaving a trail of blond hair pointing down like an arrow and a silky-smooth, firm belly on display. Evan didn’t have a six-pack, but he looked healthy and fit. He ran track, while Adam played lacrosse.
“Man, whoever invented skinny jeans should die,” Evan said. “How the fuck do they expect people to shower in the morning and then try to yank these infernal things on?” With a frustrated sigh, he raised his hands and said, “Adam, please help. You pull up from the back, and I’ll do the same from the front. Okay?”
But Adam had other things on his mind.
“What the hell is that?” he blurted out, pointing at the laptop.
Evan frowned in bewilderment and groped on his desk. He encountered his glasses and jammed them on. Adam watched him like he’d never seen him before. Evan blinked his light hazel eyes behind the lenses. He was quite nearsighted.
When Evan finally looked at his computer screen, he gasped. His furious gaze landed squarely on Adam, and his lips had thinned into a white, disapproving line. Adam ducked his head and blushed with guilt.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Evan snapped. “Why are you nosing around my computer? You had no right. That’s private.” Evan slammed the laptop lid closed with a soft thud.
Adam resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “Private. Yeah, that’s the truth.”
“It’s none of your business.” Evan crossed his arms over his chest and stood square, glaring at Adam. He never failed to call Adam on his bullshit. Evan might be a book geek, but he was no pushover. “You had no right,” he repeated. “You think just because we’re friends that gives you license to act like a jerk? You’d better think again.”
Adam rubbed a hand over his feverish forehead. “Yeah, okay. You’re right. I’m sorry for poking my nose into your business. But… considering there’s a story on your computer about you and me having gay sex, I think I have a right to ask a question or two.”
Evan narrowed his eyes. Adam was certain a look like that could not only kill but turn a person into a salt statue or something. “Fine. Ask.”
Adam licked his lips and blew out a breath, buying time to get his muddled brain sorted. “Who’s this Eve Adams who wrote that piece of—um, story? Your girlfriend or something?”
Evan sighed. “It’s me. It’s my pen name.”
Adam blinked. Reality seemed to be distorting and twisting, around and inside him, and he couldn’t tell what was real anymore. Was he still asleep and dreaming of some surreal bizarro world?
“Why are you writing about us having sex and—”
“What?” Evan frowned. Then his brow clear
ed, and he chuckled. “No. That’s not about you and me.”
Adam gestured wildly at the closed laptop. “It said Adam and Evan. I can fucking read.”
Evan smiled sympathetically, as though he could relate to Adam’s plight. “I know you can. Of course you can. But… they’re not us. They’re personas.”
Adam blinked again. His brain didn’t seem to working properly. He heard the words, but he couldn’t make sense of them. “They’re… what now?”
“Personas. You know, like a set of characteristics that help to identify personality types in a story?” Evan let out a breath again and ran a hand through his blond-pink hair. “I’m supposed to write about two guys together. To get inside their heads, I use personalities of people I know and understand. And I know us pretty well. We’ve been friends since we were kids, after all. When I’m done with the story, I’ll change the names to something else, just like I always do.”
Adam was sure he’d misheard. “Excuse me? Like you always do?”
Evan appeared embarrassed, his cheeks reddening as he fidgeted in discomfort and cleared his throat. “Shit. I didn’t mean to say that.” Then he slumped defeatedly. “This… isn’t the first story I’ve written.”
“Come again?” Adam gulped. “How many have you—”
“About ten or twelve.”
Adam didn’t know how he felt about Evan’s reluctant admission. The day hadn’t even really started yet, and he was already more confused than he’d ever been. “A dozen? Why?”
Evan coughed, bit his bottom lip nervously, and darted his gaze around the room. “Well, to be honest, I… I publish them.”
“You what?” Adam was so shocked he didn’t realize he was shouting until he saw Evan cringe from the noise. Adam quickly lowered his voice and reined in his temper. “You mean, you’re selling these…? I can’t even….”
“Many writers self-publish these days.” Evan sighed, looking as miserable as a whipped dog.
Had Adam disappointed him that badly? Regret reared its ugly head.
“There’s also a niche market for the gay romance genre,” Evan went on, “and there are small publishers who specialize in it. I publish my novellas through a small press called VisionWeaver Publishing. YA is really popular these days, and I had stories knocking around in my head, so….”
Adam felt like he’d been punched in the gut. He was beyond bewildered. “So, um, let me get this straight. No pun intended. But are you saying that you’re actually making money writing this sh—these stories?”
Evan nodded eagerly, smiling again. “Yeah. How’d you think I could afford those new headphones and that laptop?”
Adam shrugged. “I figured your parents—”
Evan snorted. “They’re office workers for the city, not secret millionaires. Your parents are another matter.”
Adam suppressed a grimace. His folks were more than well-off; they were rich. And not just a bit rich, but stinking rich—his dad at least. His parents were divorced, though, so in that his family was as normal, mundane, boring, and messed up as anyone’s. Adam lived with his mom full-time, although once he’d become a teenager, she had started a new career and was away a lot. His father had never been interested in being a dad at all. He’d been completely out of the picture, except for financially, since Adam had been four years old. Adam’s mom hadn’t been born into money and never felt comfortable living in a McMansion. That kind of thinking had brought her and Adam to live in this more modest neighborhood, next door to Evan—and Adam couldn’t be happier. He liked it here. This was his home. Thank God his mom saw money as a means to an end, not the end in itself, or they might be off somewhere else entirely, some swanky residential area with gates and bars, security guards, and posh neighbors with more money than common sense.
“So you’ve made some money, have you?” Adam pressed for details.
Evan nodded. “Just got paid my first quarter royalties at the end of last month. I made over a thousand bucks. I’ll probably make more once I’ve got a big enough backlog.”
“Do your parents know about your writing?”
Evan nodded. “Yes. I told them before I submitted my first story. You see, the publisher requires that a parent or legal guardian sign the publishing contract for any author under the age of seventeen. I was still sixteen at the time of my first submission. So yes, they know.” He blushed a bit then. “I mean, they don’t know every little detail about the… uh, sex scenes. But they don’t need to. It’s pretty PG. Mostly.”
Adam’s eyebrows rose to his hairline. Shocked, he wasn’t sure how to take the news. And he didn’t just mean the knowledge that Evan’s books contained graphic sexual content. Should he congratulate his best friend for his success or be furious at him for keeping this from him? But another burning question needed answering first.
Adam’s cheeks heated as he asked nervously, “So, are you, uh… are you gay now?”
Evan shrugged nonchalantly, as though neither the question nor the topic affected him in any meaningful way. “No, I don’t believe I’m gay. If I must come up with a term, then… I think I’m bi. But in my honest opinion, labels are beside the point. I mean, I haven’t slept with anyone, male or female, so I think I’m allowed some leeway on figuring that shit out. Or maybe I’m… dang it, what’s that thing called where you’re attracted to people, not to genders? Um, pansexual, was it…? I could be that too, I guess.”
Adam blinked. His mind froze. Nothing seemed to be going in or out—not information in, not words out. He couldn’t wrap his brain around the fact that Evan was someone new, a person separate from Adam’s mental picture of him.
Finally Evan spoke, his tone dropping to a near whisper. “A-are you mad? A-are we still friends?”
Adam frowned, feeling insulted. But… a part of it was being hurt that Evan had kept his career a secret for so long. Didn’t Evan think Adam might want to celebrate his literary success with him? Or did Evan really believe Adam would hate him, shun him in public, or even beat him up?
“I’m not mad. I’m… a bit offended. But yeah, we’re still friends. Dumbass.”
A shy smile lifted the corners of Evan’s lips. “Thanks, Adam.” His smile faded, and his eyes grew sort of sad. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. It’s just, I wasn’t sure how you’d take it. And I didn’t want to tell anyone until I knew it wouldn’t be bad news. Like failing miserably, you know, or crashing and burning.”
Adam unkinked his neck by stretching his arms, mostly to buy time. “I get that. But this is a lot. I mean, this morning you were someone different to me. Now you’re a writer, you’ve got a ton of cash, and you’re bi. I… I think I need some time to figure this shit out.”
Evan nodded slowly. He bowed his head and worried his bottom lip. The mournful look intensified. “So… you don’t wanna hang out with me anymore? At least until you’ve… caught on with everything new about me?”
Adam hadn’t thought of that. He could spend time with Evan even if neither of them said a word. No matter what, his best friend’s company soothed him. They could be around each other in a companionable silence, even if things were awkward. Probably because unpleasantness rarely lasted long between them. Therefore, the thought of Evan not being around made Adam’s stomach tighten and knot painfully.
“Nah. We’re cool. Just… don’t bring any of it up until I’m good with it. Okay?”
Evan offered him a blinding smile as he nodded firmly. “Deal.” Then he pursed his lips and looked down. “Now that that’s settled, could you please help me with these damn jeans? ’Cause I’d really hate to have to ask my mom.”
Chapter 2
AVERY PLACED a soft kiss on Elijah’s neck, under his ear. Elijah sighed and went pliant in Avery’s arms. Avery took advantage of his lover’s submission and sucked up a blood-red mark on that beautiful pale skin, and it burned against his tongue. Elijah arched his back and pressed closer to Avery’s naked body, gasping. Avery trailed openmouthed kisses up to Elijah’
s soft lips. Once there, Avery tested the shivering seam of Elijah’s lips and then slid his tongue in, tangling his with Elijah’s hot, wet….
Adam slammed the book shut. Only when he’d done that could he draw breath again.
Reading Evan’s stories was hard. And Adam didn’t just mean difficult because he knew the author so well, but because his body betrayed him. His dick was rock-hard, pushing against the fly of his jeans uncomfortably. No amount of readjusting helped.
That fundamental truth, he had to accept the hundredth time that had happened. All he could do was sneak into his bathroom, bite into a clean towel to muffle the moans, beat off till his sensitive skin was raw, and come like an erupting supervolcano, all the while pretending he wasn’t thinking about two guys doing it.
Adam turned the cover to face him and cringed. Friends with Benefits. What a cockteaser of a title. Jesus fucking Christ. The book was a three-part series, published in paperback because the individual novellas had apparently sold well. Adam had learned as much while checking out the publisher’s website. Print-on-demand it was called, according to what it said on the back of the book. Holding concrete evidence of Evan’s labor of love in his hands forced Adam to acknowledge he was in way over his head.
Frustrated in a number of ways, Adam growled and tossed the offending piece of erotic romance across the bedroom. The paperback thumped against the wall and dropped down on the parquet floor.
Though the book was out of his hands, Adam couldn’t look away. It sat there, silently mocking him and his undeniable physical reactions, the hushed whispers he used to lie to himself when he got turned on by—
No! I’m not fucking gay! I’m not even bi or pan, or whatever else is out there. I’m just… confused. Yeah, that’s it. I’m just confused. That’s all. Simple as that.
Only it wasn’t simple in the slightest. Adam’s head hurt from all the weirdness, denial, and excuses. When the truth was his world had irrevocably changed.