But soon that would be changing. Tonight was step one in Operation Makeover: Clothes Edition.
Cole and Ridley had spent the week making plans to kick off the fashion phase of Ridley’s makeover. Cole had decided the first step should be getting a look inside Ridley’s closet. If he was going to guide Ridley’s fashion choices, he needed to know what made the man comfortable. Ridley hadn’t been a huge fan of this plan. He’d insisted he didn’t have anything worth seeing, but Cole persisted. He had a plan, and that plan did not involve dressing up Ridley like a handsome doll. As fun as that would be, Ridley would end up feeling like a fake and discarding everything within a few weeks.
At least, that was Cole’s not-so-expert opinion on the matter. Luckily, he was persuasive, and Ridley caved with a little cajoling.
He rapped on the door, and Ridley opened it as if he’d been hovering there, waiting for Cole. “Hi. Thanks for coming over.”
Cole smiled brightly, trying to put Ridley at ease. He was visibly nervous, his gaze dipping to Cole’s legs, then flitting away, then returning. It was hot outside, so Cole had tossed on a pair of shorts. There was nothing terribly sexy about them, but maybe it was the bright orange color that drew Ridley’s eye. He was in love with his best friend, a fact Cole really needed to remember.
“I had no plans for tonight,” he said. “Can I come in?”
“Yeah, of course,” Ridley said, stepping back and swinging the door wider.
When Cole stepped inside, an odd sight greeted him. The front door opened into a living room, and one end of the room was neat and tidy. There was half of the couch and half of a coffee table in front of it, an armchair, and a bookshelf on that end of the room. The other half was chaos: Clothing was heaped on the end of the sofa; junk mail was stacked up and cluttered one side of the coffee table; and the end table next to the sofa was covered with dirty coffee mugs and glasses to a comical degree, not an inch of space between them.
“Cute house,” Cole said politely. It was true enough. Large windows let in plenty of sunlight; the walls were painted a nice butter yellow, not too overtly cheerful but warm; and the hardwood floor gleamed under a large forest-green area rug.
Ridley laughed. “Yeah, thanks. Sorry for the mess,” he said, waving his hand toward the chaotic side of the room. “My sister’s a slob.”
“You live with your sister?”
Ridley led him into the adjacent kitchen, which was large enough to contain a small, square table with four chairs. It wasn’t the most modern design, there being no prep island/breakfast bar, but there was a ton of storage space, with cabinets lining the large room and a built-in pantry. Cole could definitely live with a kitchen that had space for more than two pans and one strainer, that was for sure.
The mess didn’t seem to extend to the kitchen, but then maybe Ridley cleaned up his sister’s messes? Cole couldn’t have lived with his brother in a million years, so he figured the two must be close.
“Yeah, my twin,” Ridley said. He pointed to a picture in a magnetic frame on the fridge, showing him, his sister, and that best friend crush of his making silly faces. It looked to be one of those photo booth pics.
“Right, I remember now. You showed me a picture of her and your friend at the salon.”
“Yeah, Jace,” Ridley said, a wistful smile tugging at his lips. “So, can I get you a drink or anything?”
“Oh!” Cole smacked his head. “I totally forgot. I brought a bottle of wine, and I left it in the car.”
“Oh, you didn’t have to bring anything.”
“Please, it’s no big deal. I’ll go grab it.”
When Cole returned, he took another look at the living room, marveling at how it was so evenly divided into tidiness and mess. He found Ridley in the kitchen and handed him the bottle of wine to open.
“So, I can’t help but notice that the mess in the living room is sort of contained? Uh, no offense. My apartment isn’t the tidiest place, so that’s not a criticism.”
Ridley grinned as he took out a corkscrew and twisted it into the cork. As he opened the wine, he said, “There’s a reason for that. My sister and I are twins. We’ve always been close, and even though we’re the opposite sex, we shared a room for a long time because we had a pretty small house growing up.”
Cole wasn’t sure how that related to the living room’s state, but he nodded.
Ridley turned to pull out wine glasses and set them down on the counter. “So, like all siblings we annoyed each other at first. Ronnie was such a mess.”
“Your sister’s name is Ronnie?”
“Veronica, but she hates that,” Ridley said as he picked up the wine bottle and poured, continuing with his story. “Anyway, Ronnie and I did that ridiculous thing kids do where they tape a line down the center of a room. This is your side, this is my side.”
“Aha,” Cole said, seeing where this was going.
Ridley laughed, seeming a little embarrassed. “Guess we never grew out of it. Ronnie has her side of the living room, and I have mine. When we first moved in together, I got tired of cleaning up after her. But Ronnie’s a grown woman, and she doesn’t want to be lectured about her chaos. She claims it’s all part of her charm.” Ridley rolled his eyes. “So, we decided to each designate our own spaces and call it a day.”
“The kitchen is really clean and organized, though.”
Ridley extended a glass of wine, and Cole took it with a murmur of thanks.
“Well, Ronnie’s chaotic, but she respects the need for cleanliness where you prep food. Besides, I do most of the cooking and washing up. I only ask that she load her own dirty dishes into the dishwasher when she runs out of table space and finally brings them in.”
“Well, you guys seem to have a system that works,” Cole said. “It must be nice to be so close to a sibling. My brother and I barely speak. We’d kill each other if we had to share a place.”
Ridley sipped from his wine glass. Cole had chosen a pink Moscato because it was light and sweet, so he watched for Ridley’s reaction.
“Oh, this is good,” Ridley said in surprise.
Yep. Just as Cole thought, Ridley wasn’t much of a wine drinker. Or if he did drink wine, he didn’t care for it.
Cole nodded, drinking from his own glass. “Well, are you ready to take me to your bedroom?” he asked playfully.
Ridley took another large gulp of wine — liquid courage? — and nodded. “Like I told you, there’s not much to see.”
Cole had trouble with his flirt filter at the best of times, and drinking wine with an adorable man was not the best of times to control it. He smiled wide and said, before he could censor his thoughts, “Oh, I always find something worth seeing in a man’s bedroom.”
Ridley laughed, turning to lead them down the hall. “Yeah, well, I bet most of those men are more interesting than me.”
“I don’t know. You’re pretty interesting.”
Ridley didn’t take the flirting bait, but at least he hadn’t freaked at Cole’s suggestive comments. Then again, he might feel flattered. Cole had no problem with that. Ridley’s ego could use a little stroking. He was fairly certain that was the only thing of Ridley’s he’d get to stroke, unfortunately.
The more he was around Ridley, the cuter he found him. The new hairstyle had done wonders. Ridley hadn’t styled it exactly as Cole had, but close enough. And as Cole followed Ridley down the hall, he noticed that his cargo shorts encased a firm ass.
Ridley opened the door and led Cole into a room with a king-size bed and matching dresser set. What caught Cole’s attention, though, were the two long tables against the far wall, which held Lego creations.
“The closet is … Oh, yeah, just ignore that,” Ridley said as Cole made a beeline directly to the display.
Cole stood in front of the tables, examining what looked like Godzilla climbing a skyscraper. He shook his head, leaning over to examine it closer. “No, no, no. I can’t ignore this,” he said as he shifted to the right, wher
e there was a large replica of what looked like Flash Gordon created out of red and yellow blocks. It was built in such a way, with small blocks extending in streaks behind Flash, that it looked like he was running. “This is amazing. You built all this?”
“Yeah.”
“Wow, that really tells me something about you,” Cole said as he took in the rest of the projects on the table. There was an intricate airplane, a collection of spiders, and on the end of the table, something that looked a lot like a Rubik’s cube.
“What? That I have no life?”
Cole frowned at Ridley, shaking his head. “There’s nothing wrong with having a hobby. It’s good to have interests outside a job or social stuff, you know? It means your life is more balanced.”
“It’s never really been described as a hobby before,” Ridley said. “More like an obsession. If Ronnie’s mess drives me crazy, this is what drives her crazy. I’d probably have displays all over the house if I lived alone.”
Cole grinned. “That’d be awesome.” He pointed to the Rubik’s cube. “Uh, is that …”
“Yep. It works too.”
“Cool.”
“Since I’ve already shown you my geekiness, I guess there’s no point to hiding the rest,” Ridley said. He went to his bed and slid out a long, flat plastic bin that was subdivided into cubby holes with Lego blocks in assorted sizes and colors.
“Wow, you don’t do this from kits, I take it.”
“No, I just make stuff. Sometimes I get ideas from the Internet, and sometimes I just freehand it for fun.”
Cole eyed all the various colors and sizes, and his mind was blown that someone could make something out of all those bits and pieces without detailed instructions to follow. “All these pieces originally came from kits, though? It amazes me you can make them fit together without losing your mind.”
Ridley grinned. “Yeah, it’s not easy. That’s part of the challenge.”
“Cool.”
“Like I said, I’m obsessive.”
Cole shrugged. “Just wait until you see my place. You’re not the only one with a hobby.”
Ridley slid the plastic storage bin back under the bed and stood up. “You have a hobby?” He cocked his head. “Must be something artistic.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because your whole person is a work of art,” Ridley said.
Cole glanced down at himself skeptically. He wore orange shorts and a short-sleeved white button-down shirt that clung to his body nicely, accented with a pair of suspenders and a bow tie. He was going for geek chic, but it wasn’t exactly a work of art.
Ridley pointed to his toes, visible in a pair of sandals. “You painted your nails to match your outfit. Plus, your hair is like a sculpture right now.”
Cole lifted a hand to brush his fingertips over the faux hawk he’d styled before he’d come over. He’d thought it’d be fun because Ridley had seemed so surprised when he’d mentioned sometimes wearing his hair that way. And he liked how incongruent it looked when paired with almost preppy clothes.
Ridley leaned in close, making Cole’s breath catch.
“Plus, you’re wearing makeup.” His pupils darted from side to side, scrutinizing Cole’s face. “Aren’t you?”
Cole wet his lips with the tip of his tongue. Not in any attempt to seduce, but because Ridley’s close study unbalanced him.
“Not right now,” he managed to say.
Ridley pulled back, staring. “I could have sworn you had mascara on. Your lashes are so dark and thick …”
“Natural coloring.” Cole pointed at his hair. “This is all the magic of the salon. Sadly, I’m not a real blond.”
Ridley smiled, still looking at him in way that made Cole’s pulse skitter. “Bet you still have plenty of fun, though.”
Oh, he’d like to have fun with Ridley right about now. Clearing his throat, Cole turned for the closet. “You’re right. My hobby could be called artistic.”
“What is it?”
Cole flashed a smile over his shoulder. “You’ll have to wait and see. Now, enough stalling. Show me your clothes.”
9
Ridley had never put much thought into his clothes, which was how he came to be in the unlikely position of asking a guy like Cole for help. But now, as he was sliding open his closet door and presenting his collection of jeans and T-shirts, he really wished he’d made some effort.
“Hmm.” Cole stepped forward, using his index finger to slide hangers along the clothing rod. “Okay.”
“I know,” Ridley said with a groan. “I told you it wasn’t worth coming over here.”
Cole looked through the last of the clothes, raising an eyebrow as he touched an ugly yellow shirt with green Martians.
“What do you know?” he said, turning to look at Ridley.
“Okay, that was a gag gift,” Ridley said about the Martian monstrosity. “But I know my clothes are boring and plain.”
Cole hummed again, which told Ridley nothing of what he was thinking. He was probably wishing he’d never offered to help Ridley with a makeover. He obviously had no fashion sense of any kind.
“Let me see your underwear drawer.”
“You’re kidding.”
Cole looked up through his lashes, smiling. “I never kid about a man’s underwear.”
Ridley blew out a breath, making his lips vibrate with sound. “Fine. Second drawer from the top,” he said, pointing to his dresser. “Might as well complete my humiliation.”
Cole turned in surprise. “Oh, Ridley, honey, if you think it’s embarrassing you wear jeans and T-shirts, well, ninety percent of the male population should be embarrassed.”
He went to the dresser and pulled open the second drawer, looking down at Ridley’s underwear. Ridley wore boxer briefs; nothing remarkable there. Cole opened another drawer and looked at the contents. Once he was satisfied, he shut the drawers.
“So, Ridley, what do you wear when you go out dancing?”
“I … don’t.”
“You don’t wear anything special?”
“I don’t dance,” Ridley said. He crossed his arms, then dropped them at his sides, uncomfortable in his skin as Cole watched him.
“Okay, so when you go out for drinks with a date, then.”
“I don’t.”
Cole’s eyes widened a fraction. “You don’t date?”
Ridley shook his head, his neck heating with embarrassment. He thought talking about his clothes was embarrassing. Talking about his experience — or lack thereof — was mortifying.
Cole moved closer, coming to stand right in front of him. Cole was an inch taller than Ridley, but somehow he still appeared coquettish as he said, “Not ever?”
“No.”
“Hookups?”
“Not in a long time,” Ridley mumbled, eyes on the carpet. He couldn’t handle looking into Cole’s beautiful blue eyes. Not when he felt so naked sharing personal details with a man he barely knew. A man so far out of his league he couldn’t possibly understand Ridley.
“Why?” Cole asked quietly.
There was no judgment in his tone, no mocking. It made it a little easier for Ridley to answer, but he still couldn’t look at Cole when he did.
“I was holding out hope for Jace.”
Cole made a small sound, and his fingers brushed Ridley’s bare arm. “That’s awfully sweet. But weren’t you lonely?”
Ridley shrugged, backing up a step and stuffing his hands into his pockets. He needed a little breathing room. Finally dragging his eyes from the floor, he risked looking at Cole’s expression. Sympathetic. Not ideal. He’d rather have Cole playfully flirting with him than pitying him, but at least he didn’t seem inclined to ridicule Ridley.
“Sometimes,” Ridley admitted. “I did have hookups. I even dated off and on, but no one could measure up. I was always comparing them to Jace. And … that didn’t seem fair to them or me. So I stopped.”
“How long ago was that?”
Ridley’s eyes rolled up as he thought back. “Um, three years? About that.”
“Wow. Okay.”
“Pathetic, right? That’s what you’re thinking.” Ridley smiled ruefully. “Not like the words haven’t crossed my mind.”
“No!” Cole insisted. He gripped Ridley’s shoulder. “You’re not pathetic. Stop putting yourself down. We’re here to update your look a little, maybe get you some clothes with some wow factor, but there’s nothing wrong with the look you have already.”
Ridley scoffed. “Yeah, right. My Spiderman T-shirt is sure to ensnare a new man.”
“Well, if the webbing fits …” Cole teased.
Ridley laughed, shaking his head. “I know I haven’t made much effort with my appearance up to now. I can’t even explain why, except to say that I’m not vain.” He paused. “Not that I’m saying you’re vain. You’re … I mean, looking good and dressing well doesn’t automatically make you superficial. I just don’t fit the gay man stereotype. They could put me on Queer Eye as the straight guy.”
Cole smirked. “Your rambling is adorable, but you better stop before I jump you.”
“Ha.”
“You think I’m kidding, but I’m not,” he trilled. Then growing more serious, Cole said, “Gay doesn’t equal caring about fashion. We both know that’s a stereotype. And you’re right, I’m not vain.” Cole looked thoughtful. “I’m not superficial, despite caring about outward appearances. But maybe I have been in the past. Judging by the men I’ve been with, it must have been their looks because they sure weren’t good for me.”
Ridley wasn’t terribly surprised. “You like the bad boys, huh?”
“Unfortunately.”
Ridley sighed. “I better make sure you don’t meet Jace.”
Cole chuckled, shaking his head. “He looks like a Boy Scout. Not my type. Besides, I’m here to help you win Jace, not take him away.”
Great. If he thinks Jace isn’t his type, I’m probably the last man Cole would be into. Not that it mattered because Ridley was doing all this to attract Jace. But a guy liked to feel appealing, and Ridley had to admit, he’d enjoyed Cole’s flirting.
Operation Makeover Page 6