by Max Hudson
“Once Upon a Kiss”
An M/M Gay Romance
Max Hudson
© 2020
Max Hudson
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law.
This book is intended for Adults (ages 18+) only. The contents may be offensive to some readers. It may contain graphic language, explicit sexual content, and adult situations. May contain scenes of unprotected sex. Please do not read this book if you are offended by content as mentioned above or if you are under the age of 18.
Please educate yourself on safe sex practices before making potentially life-changing decisions about sex in real life. If you’re not sure where to start, see here: http://www.jerrycoleauthor.com/safe-sex-resources/ (courtesy of Jerry Cole).
This story is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner & are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. Products or brand names mentioned are trademarks of their respective holders or companies. The cover uses licensed images & are shown for illustrative purposes only. Any person(s) that may be depicted on the cover are simply models.
Edition v1.00 (2020.07.08)
http://www.maxhudsonauthor.com
Special thanks to the following volunteer readers who helped with proofreading: Bob, RB, Big Kid, Jenny O., and those who assisted but wished to be anonymous. Thank you so much for your support.
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Epilogue
Chapter One
I was a little more than drunk that New Year’s Eve at our favorite gay bar. I was there with my friends Lance and Arthur who were kissing before midnight but missing each other’s lips in a spectacular fashion. It was a moody and dark in the place, with flashing purple lights and music with heavy bass. Most of the guys were shirtless and liberally covered with body glitter and dancing up against each other or they were like me, leaning against walls and watching. I was wearing black jeans that looked cropped on me because of how tall and skinny I was. I had a dark blue crop top on because I was trying to attract people to my eyes and I had a little bit of glitter in my short, black hair. Usually I’d make my way out to the dance floor, especially as drunk as I was, but this was supposed to be a pity party. Supposed to be.
I had just broken up with my boyfriend of three years. Jack had stopped paying the bills for our apartment, stopped helping me clean the place, stopped doing nice things for me. He used to buy me flowers. Finally, I confronted him about it. He admitted that he had stopped caring. I thought it might have been better if he cheated on me. Instead he just slowly fell out of love with me and I was left behind.
Lance had suggested the bar and Arthur had eagerly agreed. I thought it was nice that my friends wanted to cheer me up, but as soon as we got there, I remembered why I didn’t like going to bars with them; once they got an ounce of alcohol into them they got touchy and then the whole world faded away for them. I was glad my friends had such a good relationship, but now I was basically alone with my misery.
I drank the rest of my beer and ordered another. I rubbed a hand down my face, as if that would provide me a second of sobriety and started scanning the crowd for someone who looked as lonely as me. I had come to the bar with a singular purpose in mind; I was going to get a New Year’s Eve kiss. I didn’t even particularly care how good the kiss was. Sober me had some misgivings about the idea but drunk me needed it. I’d spent the last three New Year’s with Jack and I didn’t want to think about him when the ball dropped.
I was getting to the stage of drunkenness that I had only really achieved regularly in college. I’d stopped going out to bars so much since Jack didn’t like to drink. Everything was blurry and my emotions were sort of floating over me, out of sight and out of mind.
“Hey.” Arms steadied me back against the wall.
When had I moved away from it?
“You’ve had too much to drink.” The voice was impossibly deep and almost a little commanding.
I looked up at the man’s face and couldn’t really pick out too much detail but I did get a good look at his eyes. They were bright green like gemstones. I know people say that about people’s eyes all the time but they were all wrong, his eyes really were like that, and no one else could compare. Maybe I was really fucking drunk.
“Kiss me,” I slurred and tipped forward into him.
He was slightly taller than me and stopped me from falling over with his hands on my shoulders. I liked the way his fingers gripped me. I grabbed onto his shirt, some trashy but thick flannel, and balled the front of it in my fists. He was exactly what I needed.
“No,” he said very simply, like you might say to a misbehaving cat.
“Why not?” I probably sounded whiney and maybe even pouted at him, but I wasn’t in the headspace to understand. Later, when I thought about how I acted, I cringed.
“You are too drunk.”
“No, I’m not.” I straightened up my back to prove it to him but the movement made me dizzy and I felt like I was going to get sick all over this hot guy. He definitely wouldn’t kiss me then.
He laughed and it was a deep belly laugh like a jolly Santa Claus in a mall. “How about I propose a deal then?”
“A deal?” I asked, not sure if I heard him right.
“A challenge might be a better way to phrase it,” he suggested.
“What kind of a challenge?” Hopefully, it wouldn’t involve moving.
“Kiss me…”
“But you just said?” I was confused and I wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol or if it was this strange man.
“I’m not finished. I’ll give you one chance to kiss me. If you fall over, miss, or anything else, you can’t try again.”
I frowned. Even I knew that would be difficult. “What about you? If it’s a deal don’t I get something from you too?”
“In one year, I promise to kiss you back.”
“A whole year?” I asked as I tipped to one side before righting myself again.
“Well? Do you agree?”
“You won’t kiss me otherwise?” I asked.
“No.”
I sighed. “How do you even know if we’ll even see each other in a year?”
“I know.”
Something about his confidence as he delivered that line struck me. I felt, in that moment, that he certainly would keep his promise somehow. “Fine.”
“You accept?”
I rolled my eyes, which was a mistake, it made me even dizzier. “Yes, I accept.”
“You only get one chance, make it count.”
The music in the club abruptly stopped. Everyone started to count down from sixty. Was it almost midnight already?
At “50”, I strengthened my grip on his shirt.
At “40”, I st
eadied my feet under myself.
At “30”, I could just make out a smirk on the man’s face.
At “20”, I blinked up at him, trying to make my vision stop swimming.
At “10”, he said, “Good luck.”
“One!” The whole club shouted and I pressed my lips forward.
I stumbled back and looked up at him.
“My head is up here.”
I had completely missed and kissed his shoulder instead. Even as drunk as I was, I felt the rush of embarrassment flow through me and felt my cheek grow even hotter than the beer was making them.
“Shit,” I mumbled and let go of his shirt finally and leaned back against the wall.
“It was a nice shot.”
I couldn’t tell if he was mocking me or pitying me and refused to respond.
“Next year.” He leaned down until his mouth was close to my ear and I could feel his breath. “I won’t miss.”
He stood back up straight and I tried to memorize what he looked like but all I saw was green. His eyes were so green they blinded me to everything else.
“How will I find you?” I asked. At least I had enough sense to try and find that out.
He rummaged around in his pockets and pulled out a pen and grabbed a napkin from the bar. He scribbled something down and handed it to me. I immediately stuffed it in my jean pocket. I didn’t trust myself not to lose it in the dark bar.
“Do you have anyone to take you home?” He asked.
I nodded and looked around for Arthur and Lance who at the very least seemed to be looking for me now that it was time to head home.
“Goodbye,” he said and turned around melding into the crowd.
“Hey Gavin, who was that guy?” Arthur asked after they finally found me.
“Oh shit,” I said, realizing the biggest mistake I’d made yet.
“What?” Lance asked.
“I forgot to ask for his name. And I didn’t tell him mine.”
“You sound like you’re going to pass out,” Arthur said and wrapped his arms around me and motioned for Lance to do the same on the other side.
“But I don’t know his name!” I tried to look around for him as they helped me out of the bar and back to their car, but I didn’t catch sight of him.
In the car, as Lance drove us home, Arthur sat in the back seat with me, rubbing my back and probably praying I didn’t puke. “Well did you get his number at least?”
I pulled the napkin out of my pocket and handed it to him. I probably wouldn’t be able to read it at that point.
Arthur sucked in a breath.
“What?” I asked leaning forward, but not of my own accord.
“It’s not a number…” his voice trailed off.
“What is it then?”
“All it says is ‘Green Chapel Casino, Las Vegas’, and nothing else.”
I suddenly felt heavy and tired. I didn’t know his name, what he looked like, where he was from, what he did; all I had was a place halfway across the country and those green eyes. They were all I could see when I let my eyes slip close.
Chapter Two
“You are insane.” Arthur was pacing around my nearly empty apartment as I packed one of the last boxes.
I gave him a grin as I taped the box up.
“Lance, please tell him,” Arthur pleaded with his boyfriend who was leaning up against the doorway with his arms crossed.
“He’s an adult,” Lance said simply.
“But as his friend, don’t you have any advice for how crazy it is?” Arthur started the sentence out calm but got progressively more harried.
Lance seemed to think it over. “I think Gavin has taken all the precautions necessary.”
“Thank you,” I said to him. I understood Arthur’s worry, but at least Lance trusted my judgement.
Arthur buried his face in his hands. “I’m going to worry about you constantly.”
I rolled my eyes playfully at that. “Look Arthur, I knew my lease was ending in May, and I knew I wanted to move. After all, I got this place with Jack. I wanted somewhere smaller. And you know I hated my job as an accountant for that law firm. It felt dirty with the kinds of cases they were taking. I was planning on looking into new jobs anyway.”
“So, you’re moving from Chicago to Las Vegas!” Arthur looked even more frazzled than usual. He was always the mom friend and worried too much for his own good.
“I told you I already have a job interview lined up the week I move in,” I reminded him. Of course, I was leaving out a crucial detail about that interview but I didn’t want him to worry even more.
“Sure. But the whole reason you’re doing this is over a guy.” Arthur crossed his arms. “And one whose name you don’t know. No guy is worth uprooting your life over.”
“My life was already uprooted,” I shot back. Ever since Jack broke up with me, I had been wanting a change. I was going to move and quit my job anyway, what was the problem with chasing after a feeling? I was perfectly aware that I might never see that guy again and that he wrote some bullshit on a napkin. But moving out there felt like the start of an adventure. When that man, who’d I’d been calling “Green” in my head, looked at me, I felt the kind of excitement I thought I’d find in the city but never have. Arthur and Lance were my best friends in the world, and they’d be the only thing I’d miss. But I had to do this. Something deep inside me needed to or else I’d regret it for the rest of my life.
“You wouldn’t uproot your life for me?” Lance asked in his deeper voice, his face deadpan.
“You are teaming up against me,” Arthur accused and pouted. We stared at him. “Fine! Yes, I would move to Las Vegas for you Lance. I’ll stop nagging you. Happy?”
“Always,” Lance rumbled.
“I’ll be fine,” I promised with a hand over my heart.
“I don’t know why I bother. You are even more stubborn than Lance,” Arthur finally relented.
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” I said.
“I won’t,” Lance muttered.
“Will you video call us?” Arthur asked.
“I will. Every day if you need me too. And if I come running back, I’ll let you tell me I told you so for as long as I live.”
“I would only say it ten times.”
“And you’ll have a space on our couch,” Lance said. “If you ever need it.”
“Thanks guys,” I said as I taped up the final box.
I glanced around the now empty apartment. I’d lived there for a year with Jack and I always thought we’d move from here to a house. But that future was gone. I wasn’t going to dwell on it anymore. I had a plane to catch after all.
Lance and Arthur drove me to the airport and gave me the strongest, yet painful, hugs I’d ever gotten in my whole life.
“We’ll miss you,” Arthur called as I walked toward my gate.
“Stay safe,” Lance added.
“Bye guys,” I turned and waved one last time and then headed toward my flight and my job interview at Green Chapel Casino.
***
My new apartment was small, but it was only a bus ride away from the Las Vegas strip. I got moved in fairly quickly and spent the day getting used to the place. It was probably obvious, but Las Vegas was a lot hotter than Chicago. I had all my windows wide open to save on my electric bill and packed away all of my long sleeve shirts. May in Chicago was still kind of cold. Here it was like a whole different world. I sat by one of my windows, I lived in a squat building with only three floors and I lived on the top. I distantly saw the bright lights of the casinos lighting up the desert as night fell. I wondered which shine came from Green Chapel.
The next morning, I made sure to dress professionally. I put a little bit of product in my hair and covered a few stray red spots on my face with a tiny bit of concealer. I wore some of my previous work clothes, a blue button up and black slacks, and caught the bus to the strip.
I’d never been to Vegas before, so it was strange to see
it during the day. I passed a surging fountain and the replica Eiffel Tower but without all the lights and the darkness I’d seen on postcards and in movies, it was a little surreal how real it all felt.
I recognized a lot of the casinos but I’d only ever looked into Green Chapel after New Year’s. I’d looked at pictures online and watched videos of the founder, Edward Knight, talking about how their casino started. It was an interesting story.
I walked past the busy streets to the casino. It was a large building built to look like a cathedral, stained glass windows and all. It was showy even in a city full of showy buildings. I stepped inside and saw the red velvet carpet and the large casino floor alive with all types of gambling and games. In the very center of the casino, with a red velvet rope around it, was a quaint wooden chapel, painted a pale, faded green.
The actual chapel was almost as old as the strip. There were countless weddings thrown there very cheaply but because of that, and its prime position, it was easily grabbed by Mr. Knight. Instead of tearing it down, he built the whole casino around it and made it part of his theme. He still threw weddings there for the same cheap price but the difference was the place was booked for the next two years.
I was drawn toward it. I examined the peeling paint and the lovely foggy windows. Why was everything connected to the color green?
“Hey.”
I nearly jumped. Why was I so surprised someone would talk to me in a busy casino? I turned and saw a beautiful woman. She had long chestnut hair curling faintly at the bottom, a black dress that shimmered in the casino lights and a generous slit up the side. She had soft round features and had dimples in her smile. Her eyes were a muted green. I found myself looking for greens in people’s eyes. It was a little obsessive, but it was all that I had to look for.
“Hello?”
“Nice to meet you, Gavin Griffin.” She put out her hand and I took it to shake but it was like I was compelled to.
“How do you know who I am?” I asked bluntly.
“I saw your photo on your resume.” She smiled.