“No, here. Let me show you how it’s done!”
He held the remote at hip height and sashayed across the room before a competitor, a young guy with auburn hair and hazel eyes, attempted to do the same.
They were playing some kind of party game on the gaming console. Ridley had watched them have mock shootouts, sword fights, and now — apparently — catwalk-offs since they’d finished with arts and crafts and moved on to goofing around.
The scores came in, and cheers broke out on Cole’s team. He’d won easily. The kid — Ridley had heard someone call him Kyle — threw up his hands. “How did you do that?”
He grinned good-naturedly, shaking his head.
Cole was too busy striking vogue poses as the kids collapsed in laughter to answer.
They’d worked on crafts for a couple of hours before the teens got restless, and Cole had decided to start the fun and games. He was a natural hit with the kids, which didn’t surprise Ridley. He always felt helplessly uncool when he was around people this age, but Cole was so charismatic that Ridley couldn’t imagine anyone not being drawn to him.
“Isn’t he just so ...” said Miss Cherry Topping, seated beside Ridley behind the craft table.
“Yes,” Ridley agreed.
Cole was gorgeous, and Ridley wasn’t at all surprised he’d won a game that required acting like a model. He could be one.
“He’s so inspiring,” Cherry added.
Oh. That too. Seeing him with the teens just proved what Ridley already knew to be true: Cole had a huge heart and a giving nature. He had offered to help Ridley without a second thought, but what he did here was far more important.
“He’s pretty amazing,” Ridley agreed.
“These kids need to see that,” she went on. “They need to see role models.”
“Well, you’re one too.”
Cherry waved him off. “Pshh. Not like Cole. Here is a fabulous gay man who owns who he is. He’s not like you,” she said, her gaze panning over Ridley’s faded jeans and Batman T-shirt. “Out on the street, nobody knows you’re gay unless you tell them. But if they see Cole? You can bet your ass they’re thinking yep, there goes another one.”
Ridley glanced at Cole with concern. “That’s ... worrisome. I hadn’t even considered that.”
Cherry’s acrylic nails pressed into his arm. “Why?” she asked sharply. “Is that a problem for you?”
“Me?” Ridley blinked. “No, but for Cole, that can’t be safe. I mean, there are still homophobes out there. We’ve come a long way, but this is still Kansas.”
Her grip relaxed. “Yes, you’re right,” she said. “But that’s my point. Cole is unapologetically, in-your-face gay, and he’s made a great life. He’s a fabulous hairstylist. And he’s only twenty-eight, so he’s someone these kids can relate to.”
“Well, you don’t exactly blend in either.”
She snorted, running a hand over her wig of red curls. “Not while in drag anyway. Me? I teach the kids that it’s okay to let your freak flag fly. Be who you want to be. But most of the time I’m an average guy named Theo, and I work in fast food. Hardly a dream job.”
Ridley glanced at the kids playing games with Cole, and then the one young teen who’d stuck close to Cherry’s side all night. Pat was transgender and in the closet. A drag queen wasn’t trans, but she was the closest thing to a role model this kid probably had in the small town of Ashe.
“I think helping anyone realize it’s okay to be what they want to be, who they need to be, is pretty inspiring too,” Ridley said.
“Ooh, look at you,” she crooned, batting her fake lashes. “Cole! You better watch out. Your man is flirting with me.”
Heat rushed into Ridley’s cheeks as all the heads in the rooms swiveled to him.
“No,” he said weakly. “I’m not ...”
He didn’t know whether to deny flirting with Cherry Topping or deny being Cole’s boyfriend. Either answer seemed to implicate him in some way.
Cole grinned. “We’re just friends, Cherry. Don’t hold back on my account.”
There were hoots and hollers, and Cherry swooped in and kissed his cheek before he could object.
“That’s okay. I think this man is sweet on someone else,” she said with a wink. “I’ll keep waiting for my Prince Charming.”
“I saw a frog down by the street corner,” one of the kids called.
“Oh, no. I am not kissing any frogs!”
Another round of laughter broke out, and Ridley was relieved to no longer be the center of attention.
Cole passed over the game remote and returned to the table. “You okay over here?”
“I’m good.”
“Sorry we put you on the spot,” Cole said. “We like to make the kids laugh.”
Ridley smiled gamely. “It’s all in good fun. I get it. What you’re doing here is great.”
“Not really,” Cole said seriously. “What I’m doing here is the least I can do. If it weren’t for a local LGBT Center, I would have lost my mind in high school. I’m just paying it forward.”
“Well, not everyone does.”
“Feel free to volunteer,” Cole teased.
“Maybe I will. Not sure I have the same kind of shareable talent.”
“Still, we could have a career day. You could come talk about your job at the hospital.”
“That’d be cool, but you should ask one of the doctors. Dr. Johnston runs the ER, and Dr. Rollins delivers babies.”
“And you do the X-rays.”
“Yeah.”
“Maybe we’ll ask everyone.” Cole beamed. “I know a guy who works at the newspaper too. We can make a night of it. Oh, and you should come chaperone with me at the Pride Prom! It’s coming up in August.”
“A prom in August?”
Cole laughed. “I know. The kids wanted to call it that, even though we’re doing it before school resumes to avoid any kind of interference with homework and extracurriculars.” He shrugged. “Whatever they want is good by me.”
“Cole!”
He glanced over his shoulder, holding up a finger. When he turned back, his smile was bright.
“Just fifteen more minutes? We can grab a coffee after?”
Ridley would have waited all night. Watching Cole with the kids, he could only marvel at what a great guy he was and how much more Ridley should try to do himself. Maybe he would volunteer. Maybe he’d drag Jace down here, too.
Cole smiled at him from across the room, and Ridley changed his mind. He’d keep Cole and his expanding world to himself for a while longer. Why he didn’t want to share it with Jace, he decided not to examine too closely.
12
Ridley pulled his VW Jetta up in front of Cole’s apartment building as the man strolled out. The week since they hung out at the LGBT Center had dragged, even with a few text exchanges about when and where to meet up. Ridley had followed Cole on social media, growing more curious about his life and other friends. He’d expected to see an exciting life of nightclubs and men unspooling on his feeds, but Cole mostly posted about his work. He had tons of client before-and-after shots, including a set of Ridley. There were a few shots of him out with Anita, and a few with a larger group of friends. Some of them looked to be at a bar, and Cole was obviously partial to frozen margaritas judging by the pics.
But Ridley hadn’t seen any sign of ex-boyfriends. Maybe Cole had hidden or deleted them after his breakups? Whatever the reason, it wasn’t Ridley’s business. But scrolling through Cole’s pages had made it easier to pass the time until they saw each other again. Cole was already becoming a good friend, one that Ridley missed when he didn’t see him. He had a charisma that brightened any room he entered, and texting just couldn’t do him justice.
Ridley shifted the car into park and idled at the curb, watching as Cole made his way down the sidewalk. He was distracted, texting on his phone as he walked, and Ridley was free to stare. It wasn’t that he wanted Cole. He wanted Jace. That’s what the shopping
trip was all about. But there was no denying Cole was gorgeous.
From the platinum blond hair shoved back by the sunglasses perched on his head to the wide smile as he texted, to the stretchy maroon pants that molded to his thighs and calves, he was mouth-watering. Then he looked up, his bright blue eyes catching Ridley’s, and his smile, already so wide, stretched a little farther.
Ridley’s heart skipped a beat, and he laughed at his reaction. Relax, Rid, before you drool where he can see you.
Cole opened the car door, bringing a floral scent that might have wafted from the large red and orange flowers on his shirt, worn open over a white tank top. “Hey! I hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long.”
“Nah, I just rolled up,” Ridley said as casually as he could as Cole slid into the passenger seat and closed the door.
Sitting beside Cole, he was more aware than ever that he was a drab shadow of a man who desperately needed this overhaul. Maybe it wasn’t just for Jace, but for himself, as Cole had suggested it should be. He’d never really considered his look before this whole endeavor. He’d worn jeans and T-shirts since high school, and he’d never evolved to selecting his clothes with more intention.
He vowed to be brave. Even if Cole thrust maroon things at him, he’d at least try them. Because hell, they looked good on Cole. Not that Ridley could pull off a tenth of what Cole could, but he had to start somewhere.
“So, where to first?”
“Head downtown. There’s a little boutique called Bellandre. The clothes are kind of hidden behind all the home décor, which the store is known for, but they have some good stuff.”
“Did you get those pants there?” Ridley asked.
“Nope,” Cole said with a chuckle. “What’s wrong? You don’t like my maroon stretchy pants?”
“I like them,” Ridley said a little too convincingly. Flushing, he added, “Those are the ones you showed me in your closet the other day, right? A hanger really didn’t do them justice.”
Cole smirked, eyes flashing with mischief. “Yeah? Does my ass do them justice?”
Before Ridley could react, Cole flipped around on his seat, raising up on his knees and pushing his ass out. And damn, his ass was perfectly displayed in the tight fabric.
Ridley found his voice. “Yeah.”
Cole looked over his shoulder. “You’re not just saying that to be nice?”
Ridley laughed weakly as his gaze refused to leave Cole’s ass. “Uh, no.” He cleared his throat. “They look great on you.”
Cole flopped back into his seat, fluttering his lashes at Ridley. “That’s sweet of you to say.”
Ridley felt his face heat and concentrated on starting the car and pulling into traffic, so he wouldn’t embarrass himself further. They drove in silence a few minutes before Cole spoke.
“Sorry. Sometimes I’m a bit much for people. You probably didn’t want my ass in your face.”
Ridley grinned despite himself. “I’m not complaining.”
“Oh?” Cole’s voice was immediately injected with flirtation. “So, you liked my ass in your face? That’s intriguing.”
“Stop,” Ridley said with a laugh. “You’re gonna make my brain explode with all this flirting.”
Cole leaned in close, lowering his voice. “It’s not your brain I want to explode.”
“Cole.”
“Sorry, sorry,” Cole said lightly, leaning back. “I’m attempting to engage the flirting filter. We have the serious business of playing dress up today, so let me get into the right frame of mind.”
He broke into the old eighties hit I’m too sexy, and Ridley snorted.
“You must be a hit at business meetings.”
“Oh, definitely. All the hairstylists love my rendition of Hairspray.”
Ridley drove down Main Street, passing a collection of antique shops, pawn shops, hair salons — including Cole’s salon — and gift shops.
“There,” Cole said, pointing to a small boutique tucked between two larger buildings. It was narrow, but it appeared to be two stories. Bellandre was scrolled in a gold stencil on its large front window.
Ridley pulled into the nearest parking space. Turning to Cole, he said uncertainly, “So, what do you think you’ll find for me here?”
Cole took one look at his face and grew more serious than he had been up to now. “No stretchy maroon pants, if that has you worried. We’re shopping for you, not me. And we talked about this, right? We’ll try to take the style you’re already comfortable with and just punch it up a bit. I want to get you something you can wear out on a date or to a club, as well as something for a more formal occasion. But mostly, we’re keeping it casual.”
Ridley exhaled a relieved breath. “It’s not that I don’t like them. They look great … on you.”
“Don’t worry, Ridley,” he said with a wink before opening the car door and heading in. “You can trust me with your body.”
Ridley was nervous, but as Cole loaded his arms with jeans, T-shirts, and striped, checked, and patterned button-down shirts, he relaxed. Ridley had a fairly neutral skin tone and could pull off a lot of colors, but dark greens and blues flattered him most. Cole added one button-down in dusty pink, as well as a bright red T-shirt for some variety. While the maroon of Cole’s pants did Ridley no favors, a brighter red made his skin glow. All in all, it wasn’t what Ridley expected, judging by his expression.
“This all seems pretty …”
“Boring?” Cole asked with a chuckle. “It’s all about how it fits, and how you accessorize it.”
“Accessorize?” Ridley asked in a wary tone.
“Stick with me, grasshopper. Master will teach you.”
“Oh, dear God,” Ridley muttered under his breath, making Cole laugh. Ridley was so authentically himself that it was refreshing. Cole didn’t want to change that about him, not even with clothes. He was going to take Ridley’s usual style and amplify it a bit, but he wanted Ridley to feel like himself in his new clothes, not some imitation version of himself.
Cole snagged a few belts before stopping before a selection of scarves. Nope. Not Ridley’s style, he decided, after a moment of hesitation. He did grab one suede jacket, but he was saving most of the formal attire for a different store that specialized in menswear.
“Okay, let’s get you to the dressing room before I break your arms,” Cole said.
“Sounds good,” Ridley said in relief.
They made their way to the dressing room counter, and Ridley had laid his burden down over the counter, to be counted by the sales clerk, when a man and woman arguing over a purchase drew Cole’s attention.
Shit. It was his ex, Travis.
Cole quickly shifted back toward Ridley, smiling brightly. “These are going to look great on you.”
“I hope so,” Ridley said as Travis’s wife stormed past, muttering under her breath.
Cole felt his smile falter and strained to hold it.
“Are you okay?” Ridley asked.
“Yeah, I—”
“Cole?” Travis said. “Are you following me?”
Cole spun on his heel to face Travis. “Are you kidding? Of course I’m not following you. Why would I?”
“I know you took our breakup hard,” he said gruffly, his gaze flitting to Ridley. “But it’s over. And frankly, you could do better than trotting out this average guy to try to make me jealous.” His eyes scanned over Ridley and he scoffed. “It’s not even believable, you and him.”
“What the actual fuck?” Cole spluttered, shocked at Travis’s blatant rudeness. Before he could formulate a reply telling Travis all the ways he was wrong and could go fuck himself, Ridley spoke up.
“I’m not his boyfriend, so I guess you’re right,” he told Travis. Then turning to Cole, he added, “I’m going to head back to try some of these things on.”
His heart sank as he watched Ridley walk away, his shoulders tight with tension.
“Cole,” Travis said again, trying to get his attention.
“Fuck off,” he muttered, swallowing down the tirade he wanted to spew. It was more important to make sure Ridley was okay. He didn’t give Travis another look as he hurried through the entrance to the dressing rooms. There were only two individual rooms, and only one was occupied. He walked up to the door and tapped it. “Ridley? I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine,” Ridley said.
“It’s really not,” Cole said.
There was rustling as Ridley presumably stripped his clothes and began trying on the jeans and shirts Cole had picked out for him.
“Look, I already know I’m not the type of guy you date,” Ridley said. “He didn’t say anything that wasn’t true. I’m average, and you’re not.”
“That’s bullshit,” Cole said. “You’re not average.”
“Sure, I am. That’s why we’re here, right?” Ridley said, his voice muffled briefly by fabric.
No. No, that’s not why they were there. Ridley might not be the kind of guy Cole had ever dated, but he kind of wished he could be. Somehow he couldn’t picture Ridley ever treating someone as horribly as Travis just did. It was kind of difficult to picture Ridley ever being the kind of asshole most of Cole’s exes had been.
“It’s okay, Cole,” Ridley repeated, and that was just one assurance too far.
Luckily, it was the type of dressing room that didn’t lock. Cole pulled open the door and slipped inside as Ridley spluttered something unintelligible. He stood in jeans and an open button-down, his chest and stomach exposed, and Cole thought he looked incredibly sexy.
Circling behind him, Cole grabbed Ridley’s shoulders and turned him toward the mirror. “Look at yourself, Ridley. Really look.”
“I’m not dressed yet,” he said. “Isn’t the point to see how the clothes fit?”
“Just look,” Cole ordered, looking over Ridley’s shoulder at the reflection in the mirror.
Ridley, his chest and stomach layered with dark hair trailing down to his waistband and his nipples red and starting to harden from the chill, was enough to make Cole’s mouth water. If Ridley was anyone else, he’d be on his knees offering to blow him right there in the dressing room. But Ridley was in love with his best friend, and Cole ordered his libido to stand down. He had a point to make, and sucking dick wasn’t on the agenda.
Operation Makeover Page 9