“You must be Tony.” He traveled a ton for work and I hadn’t met him yet. “I’m Richard. I work with Enrique.” I held out my hand and he took it, pulling me in for a hug instead.
“And my nephew’s beau, so none of that handshake nonsense.” He wrapped his arms around me tightly. “We are as good as family.”
I hardly thought that true, but I wasn’t about to ruin his obvious happy.
“Give me some of those stickers and let's find some balls.” I cringed at how that sounded, but the three men giggled like school kids, freeing me of my desire to hide under a rock.
“You are at lane three with us.” Tony pointed to our spot. “Prepare to meet your doom.” He winked, and I laughed.
More and more people from work came in, and we had the small room packed in no time. We laughed, we threw gutter balls, and we glowed under the black lights. I had to admit, it was a good time.
“Hey, they want to take a break before our next game.“ Harry held a small cup out in front of me. “And I just scored us this.”
“What’s that?” I asked, trying to peer inside as he snatched it back.
“This is our prize for coming in second.” He held out his arm for me, and I took it.
“We were the second of two teams,” I reminded him. His uncles whipped our butts, but given they came in their own bowling shoes and had balls with their initials on them, it probably shouldn’t have been a surprise.
We wove through the room, giving half-waves or ‘we’ll be backs’ as people attempted to make small talk. Harry was on a mission, and it wasn’t until we arrived at our destination that I figured out what that mission was.
“Skee Ball?” I asked as he handed me the cup, the cup I now saw was filled with tokens.
“Yep. Skee Ball.” He plucked a token from the jar, sticking it in the slot and releasing the balls. “I have it in my mind you need that Sophia wannabe for your desk at work.” He tilted his head to the left, and I glanced over to see a large stuffed animal that, true to his word, was quite similar to my little furball at home only larger...so much larger.
“And you think you can do that?”
To that he took a ball, swung his arm back, released it, and watched it go directly into the highest point value of this particular machine.
“You got that straight into the Mega Zone.” I loved Skee Ball as a kid, but not getting it in the you’re a loser spot had been my goal back then. “How did you do that? Are you like some kind of Skee Ball champion or something?”
“Or something. It’s just a flick of the wrist, really.” He tried to show me, and all I saw was his wrist moving, not the high-scoring secret he was trying to impart on me.
“You try.” And so I did, getting a gutter ball.
“Not like that.” He straightened my body and handed me a ball. “Now picture which one you want. Maybe go for the large one in the center.” I didn’t tell him that I was trying to do that last time and not aiming for the high-score holes. “Now bend your knees a little.” His hands tapped behind my knees gently. “Perfect. Now bring your arm back about three quarters of the way, but no more.”
I did or thought I did, not minding at all when he corrected my posture by putting his hands on me. Gods how I loved his hands on me.
“Excellent. When you bring it forward, be sure to flick your wrist as you release, and don’t release until you are here.” He held his hand in the spot he was indicating. “Do you think you have it?”
“Will you touch me more if I don’t?” I wasn’t teasing, but he assumed I was, and his rich laughter rolled over me, his scent no longer competing with the scents of the others in the room, his eyes watching me with such...what was it?...joy?
“I will touch you more if you get it in the Mega Zone.” I threw the first ball and failed miserably, guttering once again, but I wasn’t going to let that stop me if my prize was related to anything to do with his hands on me.
“I guess if Sophia the huge is going in your office we may need more practice shots.” He showed me another perfect shot, and this time I paid attention to more than his ass, and when it was my turn, I made a hole.
Each time I got better and better, more and more confident, and by the time we used the last token, I was able to get some tickets with each game, which was more than I could ever say before.
“You are a natural,” he praised me as I fed my tickets into the counting machine.
“Five hundred.” Not enough for the two-thousand-ticket dog, but enough for some glow glasses for his uncles. “I think your uncles will look good in these.” I tapped the counter, and he agreed as the counter person retrieved them for us.
“We should be heading back.” They probably wanted to start the next game. We hadn’t exactly been rushing through our time in the arcade. I hadn’t even really remembered we had anyone waiting on us, just been enjoying the fun time we were having together.
“I have a better idea.” He wrapped his arm around my hip and pulled me to him gently.
“Better than bowling?”
“Let’s say our good-byes and finish this date doing something a little more...private.” He whispered in my ear, the warmth of his breath sending shivers down my spine.
Gods I wanted to—how badly I wanted to. But I couldn’t. The entire evening already felt too much like a date—a real one. Going home with him would be crossing a line that we should be running away from.
“I think we should finish our bowling.”
“Okay,” he said, his arm sliding from my waist, then reaching out and holding my hand. “They’re probably waiting for us.”
“Yeah,” I agreed. “Let’s go whip their ass at bowling.”
We didn’t. We very much didn’t.
48
Harry
Hotel rooms are the same everywhere—at least the ones I stayed in for work. I made myself another cup of coffee and sat down at the desk near the window. People streamed out of office buildings and some waved to their colleagues and scurried along the sidewalk. Rushing home to the family or getting ready for a hot date?
Others dawdled, chatting and checking their phones before moving in groups at a more leisurely pace. Off to a bar or restaurant perhaps?
I was doing neither. I’d ordered room service earlier and been presented with a limp BLT. Alcohol was out of the question until I finished work. I thought lovingly of Uncle’s expensive scotch and wished he’d waltz in the door with a tray of home-cooked goodies and a full bottle of premium whiskey.
I was stuck going over depositions for a big case we were building and had another two days sitting in a dreary conference room interviewing people who didn’t want to be there any more than I did.
Picking up my phone, I scanned the recent messages. They were all work-related, and my eyes went to the crowds of people outside, wishing Richard was here.
When we were together, we got on well. We discussed work and laughed, joked, and teased one another. But when the time came to part, an awkwardness slithered between us. It was the third party in this relationship.
Would we spend the night together? Whose place would we sleep at? Would the visitor stay the night or leave after sex? Did we always have sex or could we enjoy being together and waking up in the same bed?
There were more questions than answers in this relationship. I rubbed a hand over my eyes as I calculated how much longer I’d be sitting pounding at the keyboard. I need a break. Flopping on the bed with both hands behind my head, I stared at the boring white ceiling and light fixtures.
After getting no answers to my life’s dilemmas, I grabbed the phone and tapped out a message to Richard. Hi.
He was probably working a late shift, though I couldn’t remember his schedule.
My phone dinged. Hey! Where are you? Can we meet up?
That was more than his usual texts that consisted of a time and place to meet. I typed a response. Sorry. Working halfway across the country.
Shame, was his reply.
I sat up and hesitated before answering with I miss you.
Me too.
That really got my attention, and I flung myself off the bed, reading and rereading those two words. With my hand hovering over the phone, I contemplated what to say next. That’s the first time you’ve said that.
Same for you.
He was right. I’d never come out and discussed how I missed him when we were both working and only had snatched conversations between his shifts and my court appearances. Yeah, I guess.
The phone weighed heavy in my palm as I waited for Richard to reply. Or perhaps that was the natural end to the conversation. Three little dots appeared on the screen, indicating he was typing. And typing. And more typing. I hated those stupid dots. But eventually his words appeared. I was hoping to wine and dine you and then spend the night together.
My hand gripped around the screen until my fingers were white. If that were true, why hadn’t he messaged me first. I hated that I was the one who usually initiated conversations. And I had to tell him. It was much easier when he wasn’t facing me. I would have loved that, but why didn’t you call or message me.
Holding the phone and waiting as the seconds and then minutes ticked by were agonizing, and there was the possibility I’d pushed him too far. But it had to be said, and I should have had the courage to do it in person.
You’re right.
That was a huge admission on Richard’s part. He was typing again, and when the message finally appeared, it was a long one. In the past, I made so many mistakes in my relationships. I went in too hard and fast and got burned. And I hurt other people.
I had to acknowledge my appreciation for him opening up. Thank you for being honest. He’d called what we had a relationship.
And after I moved to a new town and started a new job, I wanted…
The message trailed off. Battery died? Or he said too much?
But the phone rang, and after seeing who was calling, I answered, “Hi.”
“I got tired of typing,” he said. “What I was trying to say is I wanted to be the new version of me.”
“Please don’t change for me, Richard.”
“You misunderstand me, Harry. Or I’m not explaining myself properly. I wanted people to see the real me. Not the omega who covered up his insecurities with bravado and falling in and out of love every other week. Which is why I pushed you away at first.”
“And still do.”
He sighed. “I do, and I apologize. I’m still trying to work this out. But I… I care about you.”
“Ditto.”
He laughed. “Is this my punishment? You’re making me do all the talking?”
“Yes.” I sniggered.
“Fine. I want to spend more time with you. Tell you things I’ve never shared with anyone else.”
“Okay.” I charged ahead without thinking of the consequences. “Come with me to my cousin’s wedding. You can be my plus one for real. No pretending. Just an alpha and an omega in a relationship.” There was that word again—relationship. The words popped out and there was no taking them back. I’m an idiot. That’s the worst place to take a possible significant other. My family would pester Richard nonstop about us, and it would be weird because we had feelings for one another, however, the wedding date was intended to be fake but was now real. This is way too complicated.
There was a pause on the other end, and I scrunched up my face and slammed a fist against the wall.
“Okay.”
His hesitant voice didn’t give me confidence he meant what he said. “Are you sure?” I asked. “If it’s too much too soon, I’ll understand.”
“Nah. I’d love to meet your family as your plus one.”
God, what have I done? He might never speak to me again. I exhaled and sank onto the mattress, wishing I was at home and could see his face and smell that sexy omega scent that had my dick stiffening every time we met. But it was hard just thinking about his fragrance. “Richard, are you at home?”
“Yeah, why?”
“Alone?” I asked.
“Mmmm.”
“Get naked,” I told him.
“What?” His voice screeched through the phone.
“You heard me.” I was more confident than I’d been since the night we met.
“You have to do the same.”
“I’m already there.” That wasn’t strictly true as I struggled with my pants and briefs.
There was panting and rustling on the end of the phone. ‘“Okay,” he huffed. “I’m at your mercy. Tell me what to do.”
“Grab your cock.”
49
Richard
It was official...my plan not to fall in love with Harry was a complete and utter fail. Calling him...spilling my guts to him, then spilling my cum all over the bed as he listened...all of that had been very much not part of the plan when I texted him.
I had been looking for baby steps. Invite him to dinner, tell him how dashing he looked, bring him home to share my bed, and hold him until the daylight cracked through the windows. Instead I discovered he was away for work and it was a slap in the face.
If I had been his real boyfriend, I’d have known he was out of town. And that realization had me wanting—no, needing to be his boyfriend in truth, not just whatever dumb-ass arrangement we were part of. Though based on our phone conversation, we were trying this out for real. Or did I make that up? Not that I could blame him for any of that. The arrangement had been one hundred percent my idea.
After that we talked or texted multiple times a day about anything and everything and went from phone sex to FaceTime sex to sweet I miss yous. And he was coming home in less than an hour.
My stomach was aflutter and my anticipation was growing with every mile as I got closer to the airport. I planned to surprise him when he got off the plane, even brought a rose like they always do in the movies. I was compelled to show him I meant it. I was in this for real.
Because fuck it. I loved him. I didn’t want to. I did everything I could think of to avoid letting it happen. Love is funny that way, sneaking in when and where you least expect it.
What a fool I’d been all those times I thought I fell in love before. It had never been love. Friendship probably. Lust definitely. Love? Nothing even close.
I followed the confusing signs to the airport, only having to turn around once, miraculously finding a parking spot in the short-term lot extremely close to the baggage claim.
I walked the short distance and checked the screen for his plane’s arrival. It was early. I was going to see him any minute. I followed the signs and waited as person after person walked through the entryway. Old people, young people, men, women, children...so many people—none of them Harry.
“The gate agent said carousel 3,” a woman told her partner as they passed me by.
Wrong one. I’d gotten myself worked up for the wrong plane. Harry’s plane was going to be on carousel 12.
A steady flow of people came by, and this time I saw him. I held up my rose like a romantic fool and waited for him to see me, only it wasn’t me he saw. It was another man—a man wearing a suit and wrapping his arms around him. Fair to say he wasn’t a paid ride home.
My heart pounded, my stomach dropped; no part of me liked any of the emotions welling up inside me, I was going to be sick.
Harry had another omega in his life. An actual boyfriend?
And by all rights, he could have. We were pretend. Or were we? I didn’t know anymore. We had no claims on each other until the other night. And I have claims on him now.
“Richard,” Harry called from where he stood, and when I looked up, he jogged on over with a huge smile on his face. “You’re here.” He hugged me tight, my feet leaving the ground. “I missed you so much.” He spoke low in my ear as he set me down. “Why didn’t you come over?”
“I didn’t want to interrupt.” Whatever the fuck I’d been witnessing.
“Never. Darren knows he always takes second fiddle t
o you.” He elbowed the man I now knew to be his cousin in the side. Duh, of course it was his cousin. Harry was a lot of things. He was not a cheater or a juggler or whatever him having a side piece with me would have been given our weird arrangement.
“I’m Richard.” I held out my hand, and he opted for a hug. “What’s with your family members and hugs?” I teased when he let me go.
“Hugging is in our genes.” Darren hugged. “So what’s going on here?”
“What do you think, cuz? I’m ditching your sad ass and attempt to make this ‘driving me home’ thing into a meal and leaving with my sexy omega.”
“I bet he gets lunch,” Darren faux-pouted as he whined.
“He also gets dessert.”
His cousin put his fingers in his ears and made an eww face.
“I do like dessert.” I leaned into Harry. “It was nice to meet you, Darren.”
“Same here.” He dropped the theatrics and hugged me again. “Be good to my cuz.” He patted me on the back and stepped away, not giving me a chance to respond, giving a half-wave and walking in the direction I’d come from.
“So, luggage then lunch?” Harry asked.
“I was thinking more along the lines of luggage then dessert.”
50
Harry
I adjusted my tie and admired my reflection in the mirror. Darren was in the shower, and the other groomsmen were lounging on the balcony. We all had our individual rooms at the hotel but were getting ready in Darren’s suite because he didn’t trust us to tie our shoelaces or button our jackets. He was the worst example of a groomzilla, and I was looking forward to him reverting to his normal self after today.
Getting ready early was my idea so I could pick up Richard and bring him here. The wedding was in the church next door to the hotel and the reception in the hotel’s ballroom. Darren had threatened to disown me if I didn’t return on time, but Richard’s place was a ten-minute drive, and I’d planned the route down to the last minute. Plenty of time.
Love at Blind Date Complete Series: Books 1-4 Page 18