Bet on Love

by A. F. Zoelle

  Groaning, I banged my head on the wall. How was it possible to feel so good and simultaneously so awful? It was a relief to climax, but I felt dirty for thinking of my best friend to do it. I hadn’t done that since I was a teenager. It was the reason I had banished those kinds of thoughts about him to the darkest corner of my heart to ignore forever. But I couldn’t unsee what Rhys looked like in the throes of passion or unhear his sounds of pleasure. I didn’t know how to live with that knowledge without driving myself insane.

  I looked down at my cum-covered hand in disgust. Inside my mind, traitorous whispers reminded me he was my husband, so there was nothing wrong with us using the honeymoon suite for its intended purpose. But we were married in name only. Him deciding not to get back together with Olivia didn’t mean he would stay with me. He still wanted the annulment. Why did that thought hurt?

  Rhys was right about the fact I could never tell him no, but this was the one time I wished I could. There was no way I would ever force him to remain married to me when it had only been an excuse to cancel his wedding.

  With a heavy sigh, I hurried to clean up and get ready, doing my best to put this incident behind me. The last thing I wanted was to make things weird between us.

  I almost wondered if I had woken up in a mirror universe where everything was the opposite of my normal reality. How else could I explain why the thought of being with Luci aroused me, but being with my fiancée seemed like a fate worse than death?

  Back in high school, faking amorous noises while a friend was on a phone call was a fun game we played to mess with our girlfriends. The whole point was to be over-the-top to embarrass each other. It was something stupid that only hormonal boys found amusing. Thus, when Olivia called us cocksuckers, it brought out the immature side of me that decided that would be a great idea.

  My goal had been to anger her, but everything muddled in my head as Luci watched. His gaze seared me with heat, devouring me with a dark hunger that lit a fire deep within me. It triggered memories of our drunken caresses after our wedding, pushing my arousal higher. I had been too far gone to prevent myself from wishing he’d take over for real or realizing how weird that desire was.

  When Luci ordered me to come, his voice a domineering rumble, my climax almost wasn’t fake. It had been hot as fuck hearing him be so authoritative. It filled me with a disconcerting urge for him to pin me down as he dominated my desires, in a way I never knew appealed to me before. I joked about it afterward, but as soon as I was alone in the bathroom, I fantasized about him getting me off as I came for a second time that day because of him. It left me with an uncomfortable ache and a hell of a lot of confusion over what I wanted.

  It made me reflect on when we’d practiced kissing each other to prepare for being with girls as teenagers. I had enjoyed it, but I assumed that was kissing in general. Our experimenting with mutual hand jobs had been a natural extension of that. However, before I could kiss him at the same time, his sister had interrupted and ruined everything.

  The incident became the thing we never talked about again, which hurt, because I could tell Luci everything—except that I wanted to do it again. How could I say that when he had been so freaked-out over it? It was easier to pretend that it had never happened so that our friendship could stay the same.

  But when we had been drinking in bed after my bachelor party, those long-suppressed memories came to the surface. I assumed Luci objected to being with me because we were guys. However, that wasn’t the impression I got when I brought it up for the first time since we were teens.

  When I propositioned him for a mutual hand job the night before, his protest had been that he feared Olivia would never let him see me again. He said we couldn’t do anything that night because I might regret it—not that we would. Did that mean he actually wanted that? What if the whole time he considered it “wrong” because we were “just” friends? What if he wanted more but assumed I didn’t? More importantly, did I really want that?

  On the limo ride to our hotel, we certainly hadn’t kissed like it disgusted us. Despite the hangover from hell, waking up naked next to Luci had made me hard—even after I recognized it was him and not Olivia. I definitely hadn’t imagined him checking out my ass, either. It was an undeniable fact we both got turned on by my aural sex performance, then gotten off on it afterward. The problem was I didn’t know what any of that meant.

  I required an outside perspective, which was why I brought us back to the Grand Chapel of Graceland. It concerned me how withdrawn Luci had become. After walking up the steps, I paused. “What’s wrong?”

  He had that furrowed wrinkle between his eyebrows he always got when he worried about something too much. His gaze didn’t quite meet mine. “This wasn’t where I thought we were going.”

  “It’s the best place for information.”

  Luci’s voice was flat as he pointed out, “We could have looked up how to get an annulment on the internet.”

  “That’s not why we’re here,” I told him.

  He startled. “It’s not?”

  “Nope, we’re here for evidence.”

  Ever the gentleman, Luci held the door for me. “Evidence? For what?”

  Before I answered, the woman at the front desk greeted us. “Welcome to the Grand Chapel of Graceland!” She was wearing a bright smile and the ugliest orange taffeta bridesmaid dress in the world. “Hi, I’m Kordaellah.”

  “Thanks, how’s it going?” I returned, walking up to her reception counter.

  “It’s a sunshine and rainbows kind of day, darling!” She giggled as she beamed at us. “What can I do to make your dreams come true today?”

  Her reaction was so saccharine that it should have been cheesy, but her genuine nature charmed me. It drew out my playful side, so I wrapped an arm around Luci’s waist and tugged him closer. “We got married here last night and wanted to pick up our photos and certificate.”

  “Congratulations, that’s wonderful!”

  “It is, isn’t it?”

  Luci cleared his throat, before replying, “It does seem like a dream.”

  “Aren’t you two sweet?” she cooed. “I’d be happy to help you out with that. What are your names?”

  “Lucien St. Amour and Leopold Huntington,” he told her.

  While she pulled up our info, I joked with Luci, “I always feel like I’m in trouble when you use my full name.”

  “Right, because you’re in trouble with me so often,” he sarcastically scoffed.

  Kordaellah grinned at him. “I take it he’s got you wrapped around his little finger?”

  “Since we were toddlers,” he retorted. It was funny because it was true.

  “Don’t feel bad, hon. I wouldn’t be able to get mad at his pretty face, either.” She gestured for us to follow her. “I’ll get you settled in one of our rooms where you can wait while I gather everything for you.”

  We thanked her as she left us alone in a small conference room, where we sat beside each other at the table that dominated the space. I nudged Luci with my knee to get his attention. “Are you saying I have you whipped already?”

  He challenged, “Name one friend of ours who hasn’t said that about me regarding you.”

  “Come to think of it, you always just rolled your eyes and changed the subject instead of deny it,” I realized. “Why’s that?”

  “Because not a single person would believe me if I denied it,” he answered with a huff.

  “Does that bother you?”

  He shrugged as he adjusted his glasses. “Not really. The only person’s opinion I’ve ever worried about was yours.”

  I gave him my most charming smile. “I won’t complain if you let me get away with murder because of my pretty face.”

  “It’s your damn eyes.” His cheeks flushed at his admission.

  I rested my chin on my palm, batting my eyelashes at him. With a heavy Southern drawl, I teased, “Why, Mr. St. Amour, I had no idea you felt that way.”

  “Ho
w is this news to you?” Luci asked with an amused look over my antics.

  Kordaellah knocked on the door before entering with an armful of stuff. “Sorry that took so long, boys.”

  “No problem, we’re not in any hurry,” I assured her. No, I wasn’t in a rush to return to the hotel where Olivia was probably lying in wait.

  She sat down, then pushed over a black leather book embossed with “Our Wedding” on the front in gold foil. “This is your wedding album that was part of your VIP package. If there are any photos you want in different sizes, we can take care of that for you at cost.”

  “Can we look at it?” I asked.

  “Yes, please! I think you’ll be happy. There are some wonderful shots of the two of you together.”

  I reached out and pulled the album closer, opening it up with a creak of the leather spine. The first picture was a close-up of Luci’s hand on top of mine, showing off both our wedding rings. It was another reminder that this was something that we had really done.

  The next one was Luci standing at the altar of a beautiful white chapel with a curtain of crystal strands hanging down the walls. He grinned, looking handsome as hell in a black tux with a white rose and blue-purple dendrobium orchid boutonnière. An Elvis impersonator stood nearby wearing a flashy silver jumpsuit. My gaze shifted to the opposite page. It was me laughing as I strutted down the aisle in a white tux, my bouquet matching Luci’s lapel flowers.

  Luci continued onward. We had giddy smiles as we gazed at each other in the photo. One was of us facing the Elvis minister, holding hands, our fingers interlaced. It was odd, because while I remembered it now, it also was like watching it happen to someone else.

  The following two pictures were us putting our rings on each other. It struck me how happy we both appeared. Those weren’t the faces of two people who were making a terrible mistake; those were the expressions of two lovers getting married on the happiest day of their lives.

  I trembled as I turned the page. My breathing hitched when I saw us kissing after being pronounced husbands. I flushed as I remembered how good it felt to kiss him. If his expression was any indication, he had enjoyed it just as much as me.

  The shot on the opposing page twisted my heart in a vice. We rested our foreheads together with our eyes closed, our noses touching, holding hands with serenely happy smiles.

  “That one might be my favorite,” Kordaellah commented. “It’s wonderful to see two people that in love.”

  I couldn’t believe that it was really us. I glanced over at Luci, who was still staring down at the picture with a stunned expression. Whether that was a good thing or a bad thing was hard to tell. “It’s beautiful.”

  “Yeah,” he softly agreed.

  As we continued, I gasped at the sight of Luci raising my hand up to press his lips against my wedding band. My smile was happier than I could ever remember feeling before. My heart had fluttered then, the same as it did now. It flustered me how intense Luci’s blue eyes were as he looked down at me with absolute adoration. It was suddenly too hot in the small room.

  In the next photo, we walked away from the altar. I hugged Luci’s arm, resting my head on his shoulder. I radiated joy as he kissed my temple with the utmost tenderness and a pleased smile. There wasn’t a shadow of regret or doubt in our expressions; there was only endless excitement.

  I wanted to study it longer, but I forced myself to keep going. The following shot was of us walking up the aisle holding hands with a laugh. I grinned, because we both looked like we were having the best time ever. Despite the consequences, it had been fun.

  Entertained by our amusement, I hadn’t expected the hard punch to the gut awaiting us. We sat on a chapel pew, with Luci’s right arm stretched behind me. I nestled against him, intertwining my fingers with his on my shoulder. My bouquet was in my lap as we looked at each other like nothing else mattered other than being together. It was obvious how much I adored my best friend—my husband—and that he reciprocated with equal affection. Luci gazed at me as if he loved me with every fiber of his existence and then some.

  “This is my favorite,” I mumbled. I started getting choked up from the intense rush of feelings. Not once in my life had I felt as beloved as I did in that moment.

  “Mine, too,” Luci murmured, but I didn’t dare look at him when I was so raw and on edge from the revelations.

  The last page featured us making out in the limo with “Just Married” written on the back window. I didn’t understand any of this. For something that should have been fake, there had been a lot of real love in those photos.

  Luci praised Kordaellah. “You guys did a wonderful job.”

  Thank god he took over, because I couldn’t talk. I was too busy trying to figure out what I should do with these intense feelings I had discovered.

  “Oh, I knew you’d love them!” she squealed with delight. “As I mentioned earlier, if you’re interested in ordering any prints, we can ship them to you later.”

  “That would be great,” he replied.

  She passed over a black portfolio. “This is your souvenir marriage certificate. The real one is available in about ten days, so we’ll mail that to you, since you’ll be on your honeymoon by then.”

  Fuck, the honeymoon. I had completely forgotten about it. Although we were staying in the honeymoon suite at the hotel, I hadn’t connected the dots yet. What was I supposed to do about that?

  Luci opened it to reveal an ornate certificate. It made our marriage seem more official, despite it not being legally binding. He studied it before saying, “It looks like a diploma, doesn’t it?”

  The comment was so absurd that I laughed. Finally finding my voice, I retorted, “I guess that’s what you get when you graduate from the single life.”

  Kordaellah cracked up with peals of laughter, while Luci chuckled at my reaction.

  When I worked up the nerve to glance at him, he gave me a reassuring smile. Somehow, everything would be okay. Thank god, because I had no earthly clue what to do about the mess we’d found ourselves in.

  “Oh, you boys are too funny.” Kordaellah slid a piece of paper over. “I need you to sign this stating that you’ve received the album and certificate. After that, you’re free to head out.”

  Luci signed it before giving it to me.

  I scribbled my signature on it without thought, then returned it to her.

  “Still not used to that, huh?” She laughed as she pulled out another sheet. “Don’t worry, it happens all the time, so I always print a second copy.”

  The comment mystified me. “Used to what?”

  “Signing with your new name.” She gave me the new form. “You’ve been signing your name one way your whole life, so it takes a while before it feels natural.”

  “My new name?” I stared in stunned disbelief at the words “Leopold Bertram St. Amour” under the line I had signed as Leopold Bertram Huntington, III.

  Kordaellah grinned with a dreamy sigh. “St. Amour is such a romantic name. It fits you both.”

  Everything screeched to a halt as I realized not only had I married my best friend, but I had taken his last name. I mumbled Luci’s name as the revelation overwhelmed me. What had I done?

  In tune with my emotions, he requested, “I’m sorry, could you give us a moment?”

  “Sure! I’ll be up front if you need anything. Take your time, there’s no rush.”

  I didn’t even notice she left. All I could focus on was the fact my name was Leopold St. Amour now. Shit, my father would disown me over this.

  Luci clasped my shoulder, trying to get my attention. “It’s okay, Rhys. We can fix this.”

  “No!” I exclaimed, the vehemence stunning us both.

  “No, what?” His thumb brushed against my collarbone, sending a shiver through me.

  I struggled to stay in control of my emotions. “Do you realize what this means?”

  “It’ll mean a little extra paperwork to change it, but it’s fine,” he reassured me. �
��Don’t worry, we’ll have it changed back before your dad finds out.”

  “No!” Tears welled up in my eyes as I stared at Luci. I needed him to understand. “It means you’ve given me the one thing I never thought I could have.”

  Still looking concerned, he asked, “What’s that?”

  “I’m not a Huntington anymore.” After a lifetime of hating being Huntington the Third, I was free of all the bullshit that name brought me. I was a St. Amour now, part of a family that had accepted me, even when my own didn’t.

  As a tear fell from my eye from the enormity of my situation, Luci brushed it away with such tenderness that it broke me. I clung to him, hiding my face against his neck as a sob escaped me. After the insanity of the morning, the revealing wedding pictures, and finding out that I had a new name, it was too much to bear. I let my tears fall while Luci stroked my back. They wouldn’t stop as I sobbed over all the years I’d wasted trying to love the wrong women. More than anything, I cried from the overwhelming relief that he had saved me from making the dumbest decision of my life.

  “I’m so sorry,” I whispered. It was an inadequate apology for embarrassing myself in front of him again. It was yet another thing I intended to blame my hangover for.

  Luci shushed my fears, but he never let go as I tried to regain my composure.

  When I pulled away, he wiped the tear streaks from my cheeks. I started to apologize again, but he silenced me by leaning forward and placing a lingering kiss on my forehead. He suggested, “Let’s go back to our room.”

  That he called it “our” room almost made me cry again in my emotional state. I continued fighting back tears as I signed the form with my new name and a flourish.

  We didn’t say a word as we held hands to leave, carrying the evidence of our marriage that had shown me way more than I’d bargained for.

  As soon we returned to the honeymoon suite, Rhys collapsed face-first onto the bed. His outburst in the chapel conference room caught me off guard when I was already unbalanced by my own reactions to the album photographs. We looked like a couple in love with each other, rather than two inebriated best friends who’d eloped on a whim.