Operation Makeover

by D. J. Jamison

  “Okay, I’m looking,” Ridley said. “So?”

  “So, don’t you see how sexy you are right now?” Cole asked, speaking close to his ear.

  Ridley rolled his eyes and started to turn, but Cole clamped down on his shoulders, pressing against Ridley’s back to keep him in place.

  “Seriously,” he said, tightening his hands on Ridley’s shoulders for emphasis. “You’re a good-looking guy. I’d date you.”

  Red flushed Ridley’s chest and neck, steadily climbing up into his face. “Sure you would. Thanks for the pep talk, Cole.”

  “I would,” Cole murmured. He dropped his hands, bringing them around Ridley’s waist to grasp the edges of his unbuttoned shirt. He pulled it open a bit more, exposing more of Ridley’s body. “You can’t tell me that if you met a guy with a chest like that, you’d be turned off? I mean, just look, objectively, at your body.”

  Ridley blew out a breath. “I don’t think I can look at myself objectively,” he admitted. “I just see the scrawny geek I’ve always been.”

  “Then you’ll have to trust me,” Cole said. “You’re sexy.”

  Giving in to the urge to touch Ridley, he dropped the edges of his shirt and slid his palms over warm skin and soft, downy hair. “My hands look good on you too,” he said, lust beginning to override his good sense as he watched himself touch Ridley in the mirror.

  Ridley’s breath caught, and he pulled away. “Point made,” he said thickly, his body once again full of tension.

  “I’m sorry,” Cole said. “That was … I shouldn’t have touched you without asking.”

  Ridley avoided his gaze, buttoning his shirt. “It’s fine.”

  “It’s not fine. Stop saying everything is fine!”

  Cole’s sharp voice surprised Ridley, and his head snapped up. He was fully dressed now, and the shirt looked great, molding over his shoulders and arms, a tighter fit than most of the clothing he already owned.

  “Cole,” Ridley said tentatively. “I only say it because it’s true. Okay? I’m not angry. Not about your douche of an ex-boyfriend, and not about you flattering me. But I can’t let you touch me like that because, you know, my body likes it too much, and we’re just friends, so … um. Yeah. I admit it. You’re gorgeous and sexy, and I’m not impervious to it.”

  There was a lot to unpack in that statement. He didn’t know how to address Ridley’s admission he found Cole attractive — something he’d guessed anyway. Not that it mattered with Jace in the wings, an object of Ridley’s longtime affection. So, instead, he focused on the matter at hand.

  “My exes are all assholes,” he said shortly. “But that outfit looks great, if I say so myself.”

  He stepped aside to let Ridley look in the mirror at his fully dressed self, and Ridley nodded. “Yeah, I could do this. It’s not all that different from what I wear now.”

  “It’s all in the fit of the clothes,” Cole said. “See how this shirt shows your body shape? No more loose, baggy stuff, okay? Form fitting. You’ve got the body, and it’s time you flaunt it.”

  Ridley rolled his eyes, but he smiled more genuinely. “Whatever you say.”

  “That’s right. Whatever I say.” Cole winked at him, then exited the dressing room. “Now, try on the rest. I can’t wait to see.”

  13

  Ridley carried in his shopping bags feeling optimistic, even though the makeover had also seemed anticlimactic. Were designer T-shirts, fitted button-downs, and tighter jeans really the only difference between him and guys with more sex appeal?

  He remembered Cole’s slender fingers sliding over his stomach and had to suppress a shiver. You’re sexy, Cole’s words whispered through his mind as if he were still standing behind Ridley, speaking into his ear.

  “Hey, there you are!” Ronnie said, emerging from the kitchen with a bowl of cereal. It was Lucky Charms by the look of it. How his sister didn’t bloat up or destroy her teeth was anyone’s guess. She had the worst eating habits. “Ooh, you went shopping. I can’t wait to see!”

  Ridley lifted a bag onto the sofa. “It’s really not that exciting.”

  He dug in, pulling out a plaid, short-sleeved shirt. “See? Just a few button-downs, along with some nice T-shirts and jeans.” He shrugged.

  “Really? No mesh tops or booty shorts?” Ronnie teased. “I’m disappointed.”

  He chuckled. “Nah, Cole says it’s about the fit of the clothes. And just amplifying the things I already wear, whatever that means.”

  “So, go put something on,” Ronnie urged. “Jace is coming over.”

  Ridley’s heart clenched. “No, I can’t.”

  “Why not?” Her brow creased. “I thought you were doing all this for his benefit.”

  She had a point. And Ridley wasn’t entirely sure why the idea of putting on his new clothes made him feel sick. They weren’t that different from what he was wearing, and looking good for Jace had been the point of the whole endeavor.

  “This is just some casual wear,” he said, grasping for an explanation. “We’re going to shop for more formal clothes and some date clothes.”

  Ronnie waggled her eyebrows. “Maybe there’s some mesh in your future after all.”

  Ridley laughed. “Yeah, or stretchy maroon pants.” At her puzzled look, he added, “Cole was wearing some. They made him look—”

  He stopped short, his cheeks heating.

  “What?”

  Ridley shook his head, embarrassed by the thought that had gone through his mind. They made him look edible. Delicious. Like a yummy dessert waiting to be unwrapped.

  “Come on,” Ronnie said. “You have to tell me!”

  “Good, okay? He looked good.”

  “Lame. That’s not what you were thinking,” she said as a pounding started up on the front door. Jace’s unsubtle knock to enter.

  “Go put on something nice,” she urged again.

  “No,” he hissed.

  “Yes!”

  “No—” Ronnie gave him puppy eyes, and he gave in. “Ugh, fine. But don’t say anything. I want his honest reaction without your influence.”

  Ronnie did a happy dance. “Hurry then!”

  Ridley darted into the hall as Ronnie opened the front door. He could hear Jace grumbling as he entered, “Took you long enough. I was about ready to walk in.”

  “Jace, you know we have a rule about that,” Ronnie said sternly, making Ridley smile.

  Jace used to waltz into the house whenever he pleased. He came over when his work schedule allowed, using their house as his home away from home, and he had a key to let himself in if no one was home. But one Saturday he’d come by while Ridley had a rare weekend shift; and Ronnie, thinking she had the house to herself, had strolled out in nothing but a pair of panties to search through her laundry piled on the sofa.

  It had given both her and Jace a fright, and Jace had promised never to walk in unannounced again.

  Cole’s phone buzzed as he was letting himself into his building after a rather disappointing conclusion to the shopping trip with Ridley. His attempts to stroke Ridley’s ego — or anything else — had only made the man uncomfortable.

  You’re a bit much, Cole thought. You went into this knowing that Ridley was pining for his dumbass friend.

  He took the stairs up because the elevator was a sad, slow box of doom sure to kill a tenant someday and flopped onto the sofa before checking his phone. He had no illusions it would be Ridley.

  There were two messages. One had come while he was still with Ridley, and he hadn’t noticed. It was Travis.

  Cole’s stomach twisted when he read it.

  Travis: You can do better. Meet tonight?

  With shaking fingers, Cole fumbled out a no. He wanted to say a lot more, but he didn’t want to let Travis suck him in.

  Travis: I could pop by, just like old times. Let me remind you how good it could be with us.

  “Fuck,” Cole muttered, resisting the urge to throw the phone. He felt uneasy, and he could see the te
xt turning into a long, ugly debate. He wasn’t scared of Travis. But he wanted a clean break, not this lingering weirdness. Seeing him today had been a sour note in an otherwise awesome day. That he’d insulted Ridley only served to piss Cole off more. Ridley didn’t deserve that, and he hated that Travis had probably fed Ridley’s insecurities. His own flirtation didn’t have the power a few rude words did.

  He clicked over to his other message without answering Travis and breathed a sigh of relief when he saw it was Anita.

  Anita: How’d it go with your boyfriend project?

  Cole: Don’t call him that.

  Anita: How’d it go?

  Cole: I ran into Travis, so not good

  Anita: You okay?

  Cole: Fucker said some rude shit to Ridley and now he’s texting me about hooking up like old times

  Anita: Don’t you dare!

  Cole: I told him no, but he’s being an asshole.

  Anita: Wanna come over?

  Cole: Thought you were making a move on your neighbor tonite

  Anita: Nah, still feeling her out

  Cole: Okay, yeah, thx

  Cole wasted no time leaving for Anita’s. He was a little concerned Travis would show up and try to persuade him in person to rekindle their affair. He’d rather avoid that situation.

  Anita was waiting in her doorway, already dressed in boxers and a tank top even though it was only six in the evening. As he strolled up, the door next door popped open and Anita’s crush smiled at him quizzically before her gaze went directly to Anita.

  “Oh, you have company,” she said, the disappointment unmistakable in her tone.

  “Just Cole. He doesn’t count.”

  “Thanks,” Cole said dryly. “Should I turn around and leave?”

  “Don’t be an idiot,” Anita said. “I already made a pitcher of margaritas.” She glanced at the neighbor. “You want to join us? Cole has some man trouble. You can help me remind him he’s better off without his despicable ex.”

  “I know I’m better off,” Cole said testily. “Just wish he’d get the memo.”

  The neighbor hesitated, and her eyes made a slow glide over Anita’s body. “You’re sure I won’t be intruding?”

  “Babe, intrude. Please,” Anita said playfully. “You’ll improve the atmosphere.”

  Gabrielle stepped fully out into the hallway and shut her door with a click. She wore low-riding jeans and a T-shirt that hugged her curves, but her feet were bare.

  “Okay,” she said, pushing back a few tendrils that had escaped from her messy bun. “I could use a margarita and a rant about exes too.”

  They went inside, and Cole dropped into an armchair, figuring the least he could do was leave the sofa open for Gabrielle to sit next to Anita. He accepted his margarita from Anita with a wan smile and slurped the frozen drink until it gave him a brain freeze. He’d made it through half the drink.

  “Slow down,” Anita said. “You’re over that asshole. Don’t let him yank you back down.”

  He sighed. “I know. I’m not at all tempted by his offer.”

  “What’s going on?” Gabrielle asked. “If you don’t mind me being nosy.”

  Cole waved a hand. “I’m an open book.”

  “Cole’s ex-boyfriend turned out to be married. Cole didn’t know until he saw him at a restaurant with his family, and he pretended not to know Cole.”

  “Ouch,” Gabrielle said. “He sounds like a dick.”

  “Dick is too nice a word for him. I like dick.”

  “He’s scum,” Anita agreed. “And now he’s bugging Cole to pick up again. Have I got that right?”

  Cole was busy sucking more margarita through the straw, so he just nodded.

  Anita got a crafty look in her eye. That look always meant trouble.

  “Cole probably won’t admit it, but he’s more upset because his ex run-in happened while he was out with his boyfriend project.”

  “Boyfriend project?” Gabrielle asked.

  “His name is Ridley,” Cole said, releasing his straw to answer. “He’s a friend, not a project.”

  Anita raised one brow. “Thought he was a client that you offered to help out?”

  Cole pulled a face. “Okay, but we’ve hung out a few times.”

  “Hung out?” Gabrielle asked, lifting her hands to make air quotes, “or hung out?”

  “Hung out,” Cole said flatly.

  Anita smirked. “Cole’s got a crush on this guy.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” Cole grumbled, but he was unable to put much force behind it. After the way he’d behaved in the dressing room, it was tough to deny. “Ridley is doing this makeover to win over his best friend, who he’s loved for years.”

  “Well, if nothing’s happened in all that time, maybe it never will,” Gabrielle said from where she’d pulled up her legs and curled into the sofa. Anita sat on the other end, her legs stretched the length of the sofa and her toes pressed against Gabrielle’s hip. Every now and then she wiggled her toes, and Gabrielle giggled and slapped her ankle to scold her. Yeah, they were flirting while Cole was tanking their night.

  “Maybe I should go,” he said, standing, but even he didn’t believe his words. He headed to the kitchen.

  “Make me another one!” Anita called.

  Around drink three, Anita’s feet had progressed into Gabrielle’s lap, and Gabrielle was massaging them. Out of the blue, Anita said, “You really like Ridley, huh? You wore your maroon pants.”

  “Are we back to this?”

  “Those pants are like Cole’s superpower. He wears them whenever he wants a guy to notice him.”

  Gabrielle looked unconvinced.

  “Stand up, Cole, and show my good neighbor your ass...ets.”

  They burst into giggles, and Cole rolled his eyes. But he stood and turned, falling effortlessly into the stance that he knew made his ass look best.

  “Nice,” Gabrielle said with appreciation. “I can see why those pants work.”

  “Yeah,” Anita said, a little morosely. She’d been conflicted by Gabrielle’s mixed messages and this was just one more.

  Cole dropped back into his seat, feeling a bit dizzy. They’d had a lot to drink.

  “Yeah, Ridley didn’t care though.”

  “Aw,” one of them said.

  “I stuck my face in his ass too.”

  Anita blurted a laugh. “You did what?”

  Cole thought about his words. “No. My ass, his face. And then in the dressing room I told him he was sexy.”

  “Oh boy,” Anita said. “You do have it bad.”

  Cole nodded. “I touched him.”

  Gabrielle leaned forward. “Like, sexually? In the dressing room?”

  “I wish. No. Travis said some rude things, and Ridley believed them. Like how I could do better for myself. How he was boring or average or whatever.”

  “Ouch.”

  “I tried to show him that he wasn’t average, but I probably went too far. It’s just, he was standing there in jeans and an open shirt, and oh my fuck, he was like a wet dream.”

  “That good, huh?” Anita said with a laugh.

  “He’s sexy, and he doesn’t even know it,” Cole said with a sigh. “I don’t think he was even convinced by my stupid ass hitting on him. He thinks I’m trying to be nice or something dumb like that.”

  “The idiot,” Anita teased. “You sure you like this guy?”

  “Yeah. Can’t have him, though.”

  Ridley searched through his bags, overwhelmed by all the new choices he had. Printed T-shirts with colors and patterns instead of superheroes or movie slogans; button-down shirts, some plain to go over T-shirts, and some with their own pinstripes, plaids, or even — God help him — flowery patterns. He’d only agreed to the Hawaiian-style shirt in navy blue with pink flowers to please Cole. It was nice on the hanger, but he couldn’t really fathom wearing it anywhere.

  This first reveal to Jace was nerve-racking enough without pushing his boundaries too far, s
o he decided to pick something simple. He pulled on a pair of dark designer jeans with a wide, brown leather belt that would go nicely with some boots he owned. He added the button-down he’d worn in the dressing room — at least he knew Cole liked it, vividly remembering the feel of Cole’s hands on his stomach. God, he thought he’d pop a boner right then and there, humiliating himself when Cole was trying to reassure him after his douche of an ex was rude.

  That guy was a total creep, a good ten years older than Cole if Ridley had to guess, not that he knew Cole’s exact age, but he thought it was close to his own. He’d been wearing slacks and a polo that were far from flattering, but it was the sense of entitlement he wore that really bugged Ridley. Like he thought he was the most important guy in the room.

  You barely saw him. Maybe you just don’t like him because he insulted you.

  Well, whatever. Insulting a guy you don’t even know is pretty douchey too, though Ridley would understand if the guy was jealous. Losing Cole would have to suck.

  “Is Ridley here?” he heard Jace ask from the living room.

  He hurried to button up his sea-green shirt and checked the mirror.

  It felt a little stuffy for hanging around the house, so he unbuttoned the first two buttons. Then frowned at the tuft of chest hair peeking out. Was that good or bad? He’d have to ask Cole if he should do some grooming. He couldn’t remember Jace’s feelings on the matter. But it looked like he was about to find out.

  He ran a hand through his hair, smoothing it on autopilot before remembering it should be unruly and messing it up again. Then he tugged on his boots and walked out, trying to look as if he’d been relaxing in his room and not rushing to change. Even so, he could feel that his face was flushed, so he paused in the hall to take a deep, calming breath.

  When he stepped into the living room, Jace was slumped on the sofa with his eyes closed.