Cole was becoming a friend. A good friend. But he couldn’t be more than that.
15
Cole woke with a sick feeling in his stomach. He couldn’t even say whether it was the tequila, his blatant come-ons to Ridley, or the additional text from Travis he found on his phone that morning calling him a range of things from cocktease to cockslut. He wasn’t sure how it was possible to be both a tease and a slut at the same time, but he was a man of many talents.
He dashed off a quick note to Travis. Fuck off before I report you for harassment.
Then he turned off his phone.
“Anita!” he croaked, his voice cracking halfway through her name. He stumbled to his feet, shuffled to the kitchen, and drank two full glasses of water. Feeling marginally better, he called out again. “Anita!”
There was a curse from the bedroom, a clatter, and then Anita appeared in the hallway, her short hair sticking out all over her head. “What’s wrong?”
“I need you to color my hair. I’m not feeling the fun in being blond anymore.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Are you kidding me? You yelled my name like it was a fucking emergency.”
“It is,” he insisted. “It’s a hair emergency! I need a change, and I need it now.”
He knew he sounded crazy, but he was suddenly frantic to get rid of the platinum blond that had drawn Travis to him. Travis had always loved his hair, talking about how he’d always wanted to be with a blond. He shuddered, feeling repulsed now at the idea of turning on Travis.
His tone must have registered with Anita. “Okay, simmer down,” she said. “I’ll get dressed, and we’ll go down to the salon. What color are we thinking? Something natural or something edgy?”
It was on the tip of his tongue to suggest blue, but something stopped him. “Natural,” he said. “With a few highlights, because I need to shine.”
She smiled. “You’ll shine no matter what, babe.”
Cole made a face. “I don’t feel very shiny right now. I feel awful. When am I going to learn that tequila and I are not friends?”
She smirked. “Maybe when you get better taste in men?”
“Fuck you.”
She laughed as she slipped back into her bedroom to change. Cole went through the cupboards until he found the Tylenol and swallowed a couple of pills. Then he scrolled back through his texts with Ridley, grimacing at his behavior. What would Ridley think of him now? First the dressing room fiasco, and now this? He’d be lucky if he ever heard from him again.
Cole usually didn’t get so hung up on unavailable men. He flirted for fun, and he shrugged it off if a guy wasn’t into him. But Ridley was different. He made Cole want something different from his life.
Something more than hot sex with a hot guy who’d inevitably treat him like shit.
He was changing his hair partly because of Travis, and partly because of Ridley. The blond felt vain. It felt flashy. It had been fun while it lasted, but Cole was ready for something a little more real.
It was ironic that while he was helping Ridley with a makeover, all he wanted to do was revert to something more authentic himself.
But going natural felt … natural.
“Ready?” Anita asked as she emerged.
“Yeah.” He glanced toward the hallway. “Gabrielle?”
Anita shook her head. “She went back to her place.”
Cole bumped her shoulder. “Sorry for crashing your night. I guess being next-door neighbors has one downside. Can’t offer to save her a drive home.”
Anita snorted. “Nope, but that’s okay. You were kind of an icebreaker.” She grinned bashfully. “Plus, she kissed me goodnight.”
Cole raised his hand for a high five. “Fantastic! I’m glad I didn’t ruin your night, even if I did embarrass myself.”
She snorted. “Watching you throw yourself at Ridley was entertainment all on its own.”
Cole groaned. “How bad was it?”
Anita laughed. “Oh, it was a train wreck. So awful I couldn’t look away.”
“I was afraid of that.”
Work dragged on Monday. Ridley liked to stay busy, and his favorite days were the ones that sent him all over the hospital. While he mostly worked in the X-ray room, he also did portable X-rays where necessary for hospital patients and assisted in the operating room running the C-Arm medical imaging device used in some surgical procedures.
But today, he’d mostly spent his time twiddling his thumbs. There were no urgent hospital needs, and his outpatient docket was slim, giving him the much-needed but tedious time to catch up on filing and other office work that piled up when he was on the run.
It also gave him plenty of time to dwell on the text exchange he’d had with Cole. And the jerk-off session that had followed. As guilty as he felt, he’d thought about Cole again in the shower the next morning. And Sunday night. He couldn’t seem to get the idea of sex with Cole out of his head now that it had been planted there.
Drunken come-ons aside, Ridley didn’t think he was a guy Cole really wanted. Cole would want someone more sophisticated. Someone who knew how to dress himself without assistance. Someone sexy and mysterious, not a boy-next-door type who played with Legos in his spare time.
The clock finally ticked to twelve thirty, and he headed to the cafeteria. He didn’t usually see Callum or Noah on Mondays, so he grabbed a sandwich, found a table in the corner, and scrolled through his social media apps while he ate.
He hadn’t heard from Cole since Saturday, but he’d followed him on Facebook and Instagram. Cole always posted fascinating photos, mostly of people’s hair, but Ridley liked looking through them. Today, though, he was stunned to see Cole modeling a new look of his own. His hair was brown. Not a drab brown like Ridley’s, but a beautiful caramel color with highlights that gave it depth. It was styled only a little differently, flopping more to the side. He looked … even hotter. How was that possible? Something about the more natural color made his skin tone seem warmer and his eyes brighter. As a blond, he’d been appealing and sexy and fun. As a brunet, he was handsome in a different way. In a classier way? Ridley couldn’t put it into words, but he had to shift in his chair and take a deep breath.
Impulsively, he scrolled through his contacts and hit the call button.
It rang three times, and Ridley was about to give up when Cole answered. “Hey! Ridley, hi. How are you?”
Ridley smiled when he heard Cole’s voice. “I’m good. Just saw your Instagram.”
“Oh yeah?”
“You colored your hair.”
“I did!” Cole said with a laugh. “I’m like a chameleon that way.”
“You change to blend into your surroundings? I don’t think so. You stand out where you go.”
Ridley bit down on his lip, wishing he could call back the words. That had sounded far too admiring for a friend, hadn’t it? Those flirty jokes about offering to help him dust off his kissing — or even fucking skills — had done a number on his head.
Both heads.
“Guess you have a point,” Cole said ruefully. “I just meant that I can’t stay one color. I shift through the rainbow. I almost went blue, but I don’t know. I was in the mood for something more natural.”
“It looks good.”
“Yeah?” Cole said, his voice sounding brighter. “I think so. Being blond is overrated. Oh, shoot. I’ve got to run for my next appointment.”
“Okay.”
“But hey, I’m sorry if I made things awkward last weekend.”
Ridley wasn’t sure what to say. Cole hadn’t made things awkward, so much as confusing for Ridley. He found Cole attractive, but he’d always known where his interests lay. He’d crushed on Jace so long that he’d stopped looking at other men as possible dates. Now, there was a murkiness to his desires that was disconcerting.
“It’s cool,” Ridley said, for want of anything better.
Cole sounded skeptical. “Okay, good. Well, I really should go. I want to get the rest of yo
ur shopping done, though. Maybe we can meet up before the weekend? Go one evening if your schedule allows?”
“I’m working earlier shifts at the end of the week. Maybe Wednesday evening?”
“Great, it’s a date.” He hiccupped a little laugh. “A shopping date. Okay, I have to go. Bye!”
He disconnected before Ridley could respond, so he returned to his half-eaten sandwich and the Instagram pics that had spurred him to call. Cole, grinning wide, with his hair flopping over one blue eye. The image made Ridley smile too until he noticed one nasty comment on the photo.
You can change your hair, but you can’t change what you did.
Well, that wasn’t cool. Ridley added his own comment to counteract it.
Looks fabulous, but I wouldn’t expect anything less.
Then with a look at the clock, he reluctantly returned to the rest of his shift.
Monday, 10 p.m.
Ridley: Forgot to tell you. I wore the new clothes.
Cole: And?
Ridley: The jeans tried to kill my balls. I thought you liked me.
Cole: Bahahaha. The cost of fashion, darling. Looking good hurts.
Ridley:
Cole: You thought it was easy being gorgeous, didn’t you? Just think of all those poor underwear models.
Ridley: I’m sure the six-figure paychecks help soothe their pain…
Cole: No doubt!
Tuesday, 7:30 p.m.
Cole: You didn’t say. Did Jace like the new look?
Ridley: He noticed. He thinks I must like someone and be trying to impress them.
Cole: OMG! Did you tell him?
Ridley: Hell no. I just told him I wanted to look better for my sake, and that I hadn’t updated my look since HS. So basically I lied my ass off.
Cole: Did you, though? Sounds like there might be some truth to it.
Ridley: Some. I feel good about making an effort. I don’t know if all these clothes are for me. The jeans are TIGHT, man.
Cole: So don’t wear them all the time. Save those for clubbing when you want your ass on display
Ridley: Oh, God. You and my ass …
Cole: Yes? I like where this is going.
Ridley: I think I better say goodbye while I’m ahead. See you tomorrow?
Cole: I can pick you up at 6. Dress comfortably! You can leave your ball-squeezing pants at home.
Ridley: Sounds like a plan. My balls thank you.
16
From the moment Cole swung by to pick up Ridley on the way to Black Tie, a menswear boutique, the shopping trip was an exercise in frustration.
Sexual frustration.
Something had shifted between them since the weekend before. Perhaps it was Cole’s blatant compliments in the dressing room. Or his hands on Ridley. Or his drunken come-ons.
Things weren’t awkward, as he’d feared, but they were tense.
He’d pulled up to the curb in front of Ridley’s little cottage, watching as Ridley emerged and jogged down the front steps.
Ridley wore jeans — old ones that were faded over the thighs, drawing the eye to the muscles shifting beneath denim as he approached Cole’s car. His T-shirt was dark green with faded Ninja Turtles on it — something that looked like it belonged on a ten-year-old. He looked freaking adorable.
“Hi,” Ridley said as he opened the car door and slid in. “I like your hair. It looks even better in person.”
He shifted in his seat, leaning over to brush his fingers through it. Cole’s breath caught as he stared into Ridley’s eyes, his body tingling, as he thought, I like your everything.
Ridley dropped his hand to buckle his seat belt, and Cole’s heart returned to a normal rhythm. “Thanks. Anita does good work,” he said as he pulled away from the curb.
“Or you make her work look good,” Ridley countered.
Cole smiled, secretly liking Ridley’s determination to compliment him. They didn’t talk for the rest of the drive, which was a quick five-minute trip. Or if they did, Cole didn’t remember what they said.
Ridley was in a good mood, smiling easily until they walked in. Then an edge of nerves took over as he looked at the suits and tuxedos on display.
“Where do we start?” he asked.
That settled Cole a bit, and he focused on the job he had to do.
“Let’s find a couple of sports coats that you can wear, then we’ll track down an attendant to get your measurements for a full suit.”
“Is that really necessary?” Ridley asked, sounding like a sulky little boy. “I don’t need a suit for anything.”
“Every man needs one suit for weddings and funerals.”
“There’s a cheery thought.”
Cole grinned. “Yeah, it’s a real bummer when all your friends start getting married.”
Ridley laughed, his eyes crinkling. Cole once again got lost in his big, brown eyes. They were so full of emotion all the time. Some people wore their hearts on their sleeve, but Ridley’s were all in his eyes. Cole bet he couldn’t lie to save his life.
Ridley seemed just as locked into his gaze as a silence stretched out between them. A circuit of want arced between them. Cole to Ridley. Ridley to Cole. And back again.
A salesman’s approach jolted Cole from his trance. “Hi, we’re fine, but we’re going to want a fitting in a few minutes.”
The salesman, Tate, said he’d be waiting near the fitting rooms. It didn’t take long to find Ridley a couple of jackets he could mix and match with jeans or slacks. They’d covered everyday casual and dress-up formal, but there were still a few gaps in Ridley’s wardrobe that Cole wanted to rectify. A couple of sweaters for winter, maybe, some sexier T-shirts or tank tops for out clubbing, and possibly some sexy underwear if that was Ridley’s cup of tea. All that would have to wait.
When they arrived in the fitting area, a small room just outside a curtained dressing cubicle, Tate was waiting with his measuring tape.
He bustled around Ridley, stretching out the tape and jotting down measurements.
Each set of measurements drew Cole’s eye to another of Ridley’s features. His strong shoulders, his solid chest — which Cole vividly remembered had a nice layer of dark hair he wanted to rake his fingers through — the length of his legs.
“That should do it,” the attendant said as he rolled up his measuring tape. “I’ll go pull some inventory for you to try.”
Cole desperately wanted an excuse to put his hands on Ridley. There would be no opportunity to slip into his dressing room here. The store was set up with a curtained room right on the shopping floor, with the attendant waiting outside. He had no plausible reason for barging in, no ex-boyfriend showing up to make rude remarks. That was a good thing, but Cole couldn’t help but wish he had some reason, any reason, to touch Ridley.
Ridley cleared his throat. “So … besides the suit, what else do we need to get?”
“Well, we’ve picked out the sports jackets,” Cole said. “So, maybe a few ties, and um …” His brain wasn’t firing on all cylinders.
“And?”
“Belts,” he blurted.
“Right. It’s all about the accessories.”
Cole grinned, happy that Ridley had been listening to his fashion tips. “That’s right!”
They smiled at each other stupidly, staring, until the attendant returned with a few suits in navy blue, charcoal, and black.
When Ridley stepped into the dressing room, Cole blew out a long breath, relieved to have a break from the tension. He enjoyed the thrum of sexual attraction as much as the next guy, but trying to push it down and bury it was exhausting.
That small relief vanished when Ridley stepped out of the dressing room in a Calvin Klein slim-fit suit in navy blue. The cute X-ray tech who’d sat in his salon chair had been replaced with a devastatingly handsome man in a well-cut suit to go with his well-cut hair and designer stubble.
Cole fanned himself. “Holy hell, Ridley. You look stunning.”
/> Ridley blushed, ducking his head, but not before Cole saw the small smile. He still didn’t know what to do with a compliment, but Cole had figured out that Ridley liked them.
The attendant stepped forward and smoothed his hands over the shoulders of the jacket. “It’s a good fit. We have other colors in the same style, or you could try a more classic cut if you prefer?”
Ridley cast a look at the range of suits displayed in the store. “I don’t know.”
Cole turned to Tate. “Can you give us a minute?”
“Of course.”
As soon as the attendant withdrew, Cole circled Ridley, examining him from every side. “It is a good fit. Damn. It’s a crime you don’t wear suits every day.”
Ridley chuckled. “I feel like I’m playing dress-up.”
“You are,” Cole said, daring to run his hands over Ridley’s shoulders. Then, with a small flash of guilty pleasure, down over his chest.
There was nothing wrong with checking the fit of the suit. The attendant had his hands in more intimate places, Cole thought, remembering with envy the position of Tate crouching in front of Ridley and rolling his measuring tape up his inseam.
“Nothing wrong with a little dress-up now and then,” he said with a smile.
Ridley gazed at him from inches away, and Cole couldn’t look away. Their eyes seemed to communicate all the things they weren’t saying. Cole had no doubt his eyes were screaming, I want you. If he read Ridley right, it wasn’t a one-sided attraction. Trouble was, he might know what Ridley’s body wanted, but he had no idea if Ridley wanted to follow through on any of it.
Stepping back regretfully, he said, “Turn around and lift your jacket so I can see the fit of your pants.”
Ridley raised an eyebrow, but he didn’t call Cole on his obvious intent. Without a word, he spun and lifted his jacket. The pants’ fabric stretched across his ass, turning it into a piece of art.
Operation Makeover Page 12