Operation Makeover

by D. J. Jamison

  “Food’s ready,” his dad bellowed, making Ridley jolt into the here and now.

  Cole said something that made Ridley’s mother throw back her head and laugh. Then he turned, his eyes finding Ridley from across the yard, and smiled at him.

  Unlike the grin Cole had bestowed on Ridley’s mom, this smile lit up his whole face, from his turned-up lips to his soft eyes. It was like a secret message from Cole to Ridley. A message of love and affection.

  Ridley’s heart skipped a beat. My smile, he thought. He has a smile just for me.

  Then another thought came on the heels of that one, as he felt himself instinctively smile back. I have one for him too, don’t I?

  The Masseys were kind, and they were totally accepting of the gay, which was a relief. Cole didn’t always play well with families, especially when he wore shirts in hot pink that said things like “Brave and Fabulous.” But so far, Ridley’s parents had been nice to him. Ridley and Ronnie had assured him they would be, but there was a difference between accepting a member of your own family — an even-keeled, could-pass-for-straight guy — and a gay friend who was maybe just a bit too femme for your comfort zone.

  Over a meal of burgers and brats, grilled potatoes and peppers, corn on the cob, a side salad, and fresh fruit, the Masseys entertained Cole with childhood stories of Ridley — and Ronnie, because very few stories could be told about one without the other.

  The time Ridley “ran away” to the tree in the backyard and lasted all of twenty minutes before he had to cry for a rescue. The time Ronnie climbed onto the roof and tried to fly, earning her first trip to the ER for a broken arm.

  “No wonder Ridley became an X-ray tech,” Cole joked after hearing about a few more incidents where Ronnie had injured herself and/or Ridley.

  Ridley laughed. “That’s pretty close to the truth. I pestered the techs with twenty questions every time we went in.”

  Cole heard about the snakes and lizards Ronnie tried to sneak into the house, and about the way that Ridley would try to bandage up any injured bird or cat he found in the neighborhood. Veterinarian was his fall-back career dream, he said. Fighter pilot was Ronnie’s Plan B.

  Jace was in a good number of stories too. The time they caught Jace eating an entire pie at midnight and found out he’d been secretly staying over because of his problems with his own family and hadn’t had a full dinner all week. The time he’d rescued Ronnie from a party when her boyfriend ditched her, earning precious points with Mom and Dad; and the time he mowed the Masseys’ yard and ran over some perfectly lovely flowers. Patsy was clearly still a bit miffed, but in a fond way.

  Story after story, they painted the picture of a happy, loving family. But while Jace fit into that picture — had been part of the picture for years — Cole felt alienated by it.

  His own family was happy on the surface. But always so cold and distant underneath. After he’d left home, he’d gone back for holidays and the occasional visit, but the fragile bond between them only got thinner and thinner with time and distance.

  Cole had made great friends, a whole new family in the LGBTQ community. But standing here, with Ridley’s loving relatives all around, he felt lonelier than he had in a long time. A familiar longing to belong, to be unconditionally loved, pulled at his heart.

  He wanted so much for it to be with Ridley. For them to make their own family. But how could that ever be when he’d met Ridley ten years too late? He thought he was okay with being a second choice. A bit of sex and fun while Ridley worked up the courage to go after the man he really wanted.

  But Cole wasn’t okay. Far from it. He wanted —no, he needed — more than to be runner-up with the most important man in his life.

  27

  “You okay?” Ridley asked when he pulled up to his house. Dusk was descending, bringing with it the orange glaze of sunset. Cole kept his eyes on the sky as he nodded.

  “Yeah, your parents were nice. I’m just going to call it a day.” He shifted to grab the door handle. “I’ll grab my stuff from inside and head out.”

  Ridley put a hand on Cole’s thigh. “You could stay another night.”

  “I can’t,” Cole said.

  He meant it too. If he stayed another night with Ridley, he’d fall apart.

  “But we—”

  “I can’t,” he snapped. Then bit his lip as Ridley’s eyes went wide with hurt. “I need to go home.”

  “Okay, have it your way,” Ridley said, his voice light but his brow furrowed, giving away his concern.

  He led Cole inside, handed him his overnight bag, and waited while Cole packed up his toiletries, then walked him out to his car. He didn’t say anything on the walk down the driveway, and Cole pretended not to notice the tension building between them.

  “Thanks for letting me stay,” Cole said.

  Ridley shoved his hands into his pockets and nodded. “You’re welcome here anytime.” He met Cole’s gaze steadily. “My door is always open for you.”

  Cole had to look away from Ridley’s sincerity. He meant it, and Cole believed him, but it wasn’t enough. “Thanks.”

  Ridley cleared his throat. “Maybe I should follow you home. Make sure your ex isn’t around.”

  Cole shook his head. It was a nice gesture, but he’d had no real fear that Travis would return. “I’ll be fine.”

  “Please, Cole? Just let me make sure you’re okay.”

  Cole avoided Ridley’s eyes so he wouldn’t cave. As much as he’d like to rely on Ridley and let him play the knight in shining armor, Cole needed to protect himself. From Travis, yes. But from Ridley too. This weekend was too much. It all felt too real.

  But it wasn’t real.

  “I can take care of myself,” he said.

  Ridley’s shoulders slumped. “Of course you can,” he said. “I know. Text me when you get in?”

  Cole nodded. “Okay.”

  “I’ll come by Monday after work. And a friend invited me to a dinner party on Friday. Want to be my plus one? I hate going to those things alone.”

  “Why don’t you just take Jace?” he said, unable to keep the bitterness from his tone.

  “Um, he’s going too. He was invited.”

  “Then I guess you won’t be alone,” Cole said. “I have to go.”

  He opened the rear door of his car and tossed his overnight bag in. Then he reached for the front door, pulling up short when Ridley took hold of his hand and squeezed it gently.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.”

  “You’re upset about something. I can tell.”

  Cole huffed. He looked anywhere but Ridley. “This weekend has just been a lot to take. We’re supposed to be friends who fuck. Friends don’t sleep over, or cuddle, or go to their parents’ cookouts!”

  His voice grew increasingly shrill as he spoke, the panic of what he’d done to himself beginning to set in. He’d not only set himself up to be left shattered when Ridley inevitably ended up with Jace, but for every man in his future to come up short. How could anyone compare to cute, sweet, genuine Ridley?

  Ridley flinched from his words. “So, what? I asked too much of you? I thought you liked being together as much as I did.”

  Cole chanced a look at Ridley’s face. Bad idea. He looked crushed.

  His heart ached. “Ridley, I do. But we’re not boyfriends. And as long as you want Jace—”

  “What if I didn’t?”

  Cole’s heart thumped hard. “Don’t you?”

  “I don’t know,” Ridley said. “I know that I like you. I like spending time with you.”

  “I like you too,” Cole said softly. Sadly. “But I need to take a step back. Figure out where to go from here.”

  “Where to go?” Ridley asked, sounding bewildered.

  “You’ve wanted Jace your whole life. You said so.” Cole swallowed. “I thought I was okay being your second choice, but I’m not. That’s all I ever was with Travis, and I can’t do it again.”

  “But
I’m not with Jace. It’s not the same.”

  Cole lifted his shoulders. “You’re not really with me, though, are you?”

  “I could be. I could give up on Jace and—”

  “No.” Cole couldn’t believe what he was saying. He’d wanted Ridley to choose him, but not like this. Not as some kind of ultimatum. “I don’t want to force you to choose. You’d regret missing your chance with him, and you’d resent me for it.”

  Ridley shook his head, his eyes troubled. “So, it’s over? That’s what you’re saying?”

  The words terrified Cole. He wanted to say no. He wanted to beg Ridley to love him. But he knew in his heart he couldn’t compete with all that history between them.

  He swallowed hard and forced out the words. “Yeah. I’m sorry. I need to do this for me. For my well-being. Can you understand that?”

  Ridley exhaled hard. “But I care about you. Do you think I don’t? Because I do. So much, I—”

  “Then let me go.”

  The silence stretched out between them, the tension sharp like a knife. Ridley stared at him hard, his brown eyes clearly transmitting his guilt and grief. His uncertainty.

  Finally, he nodded.

  “Okay,” he said roughly. “It’s your choice. I’m so sorry if I hurt you. I never wanted that.”

  “I know you didn’t. It’s not your fault,” Cole said softly. “Just keep being you, okay? Don’t ever change.”

  “You’ve been the best friend I’ve ever had,” Ridley said thickly. “I need you to know that.”

  Cole kissed Ridley’s cheek. “Be happy, okay? I think Jace is going to come around real soon. So just ... go get your happy ending.”

  His voice broke, and he turned to yank open the car door and all but threw himself inside. Ridley watched him turn the ignition and pull away from the curb, so he didn’t cry.

  He flicked on the radio, turned it up loud, and screamed his frustration all the way home.

  Ridley went back into the house, shutting the door harder than he intended. He felt confused. Frustrated. Afraid.

  Had he just lost Cole? Could you lose someone who was never really yours?

  “What’s wrong?”

  Ridley looked up, surprised to see Ronnie had returned. She must have snuck in while he was having that godawful conversation with Cole. If only he could go back, rewind, and say the right thing. Because he had a feeling that Cole needed something from him that he’d failed to deliver. But he’d offered to give up on Jace and be with Cole for real. If that wasn’t enough, what could he do?

  It’d all happened so fast, his head was spinning, and he could hardly remember the exact words they’d exchanged. Maybe if he’d said things differently, better he’d be with Cole right now. Instead, he became aware he was breathing hard, hands fisted at his sides, as Ronnie stared at him in concern.

  “What is it?” Ronnie asked again, and the waver in her voice brought him back to the present. He was scaring her unnecessarily.

  “Everything’s fine,” he choked out. “Cole, um … He ended things. With me. We were sort of together. I think you know that.”

  Her eyes widened. “Oh, no. Shit. Shit. Oh, damn, is this my fault?”

  “Why would it be your fault?” he asked, feeling hollow and numb. He almost didn’t care about her answer as he wandered to the sofa and collapsed into the corner. He just wanted to curl up in a ball and disappear.

  “I was trying to help,” Ronnie said, shaking her hands in distress. “I told him you’d come around, but I was kind of tactless.”

  Ronnie looked so upset that Ridley almost felt the urge to comfort her. Maybe if he wasn’t so fucked in the head himself, he would. He settled for saying, “I don’t think it’s your fault, Ronnie. Just chill.”

  She walked over and plopped onto the cushion beside him, laying her head on his shoulder. “What happened?”

  “He just said that he couldn’t be my second choice.”

  “Oh.”

  “I tried to offer him more, but he wouldn’t hear it. Said I had to try with Jace because I’d regret it if I didn’t. You know what I regret?”

  “What?”

  “Losing Cole. He asked me to let him go, and I couldn’t refuse. How could I? I couldn’t be like that jerk Travis.”

  “Oh, honey.” Ronnie wrapped her arms around him, stroking his hair. “Maybe give him some time? Then try to talk to him again. Make him understand he’s not a second choice. Right? He’s not, is he?”

  “No.”

  “You adore him,” Ronnie said.

  “Yeah.”

  “He adores you too. I know it,” Ronnie said. “Give it a few days. Let him calm down, so he’ll listen to you. Then tell him that he’s the one you want. Yeah? It’ll be okay.”

  Ridley nodded, fervently hoping she was right. Still, doubt gnawed at him.

  “What if he doesn’t believe it? What if no matter what I offer, he thinks Jace is what I want? If I walk away from Jace, he thinks I’ll regret it. But if I go for Jace, and he turns me down, then … Cole will doubt how I really feel, won’t he?”

  “I don’t know,” Ronnie said, but her tone spoke volumes.

  Fuck. He was totally screwed. And maybe he deserved it, sleeping with Cole while deluding himself with the idea he was still into Jace. His feelings for Jace felt vaguer and fuzzier than ever. But it had been easier to let that fiction go on than try to explain his shifting emotions. He’d been a coward, afraid that Cole was really just interested in sex and friendship. He should have known Cole better. He was generous to a fault, even with his body and heart.

  “It’s going to be okay,” Ronnie said, with a bit more confidence. “You’ll find the right words, and Cole will understand how you feel. Because if anyone deserves to work it out, it’s you guys. Okay, Rid? Don’t give up yet. Promise me you’ll keep trying for as long as it takes, because Cole is totally worth it.”

  “Yeah,” Ridley agreed. “He’s worth everything.”

  28

  Cole was a drag the following week, and not in the fun, Miss Cherry Topping way. He missed Ridley. He missed the great sex, the way Ridley had filled his little apartment with warmth, the comfortable conversation as they sat down to eat or watch something on TV.

  But mostly he missed Ridley’s smile. The one that always, without fail, reached his eyes. The one that made Cole’s heart melt a little bit more each time he saw it.

  No heart melting, he ordered himself. That’s over and done.

  Ridley had yet to get the memo. He’d tried to text and call. Cole had confirmed that he’d arrived home safely and Travis had been nowhere in sight that first night. And two days later, when Ridley asked if they could meet for coffee, Cole had made up an excuse. And another excuse a couple of days later. When Ridley texted, pleading to talk, Cole had asked him to give him time.

  Time wouldn’t fix anything, but it’d allow him to get his emotions under control before he had to face Ridley. He knew he couldn’t avoid him forever. For now, though …

  He’d dodged every one of Ridley’s phone calls, unable to trust himself not to cave the second he heard Ridley’s voice. He needed to be strong, because allowing himself to be strung along until Jace made a move would only make everything hurt more. Though it was difficult to imagine hurting more. Cole had been through breakups before, but damn. He’d never been so infatuated with someone when the break happened. He felt as if a limb had been ripped from his body.

  Now you’re being a drama queen. Ridley’s not your arm or your leg or your Goddamn beating heart. He’s just a guy you liked, and if you can get your head out of your ass, he can still be your friend. Better than nothing, right?

  Anita jostled him. “It’s best to keep an eye on the drag queens. If one of them notices you zoning, you’re toast.”

  Cole straightened in his seat at Q, looking to the stage where another queen was performing. He, Anita, and Gabrielle had come out to support Miss Cherry Topping in her debut performance. Cole had help
ed Theo finish the headdress that would complete Miss Cherry’s Mardi Gras style costume for the night. Theo had been almost unbearably excited — and all thumbs — while they worked, but it’d been a good distraction from Cole’s teenage-level angst.

  Miss Gloria Whole looked elegant in a long evening gown, elaborate up-do, and immaculately applied makeup that drew the eye to sharp cheekbones. She was one of the few drag queens singing her own song, in a husky but lovely tone. Most of the drag queens would lip-sync or dance, and a few would opt for telling sassy one-liners to crack up the crowd and tease any handsome men they could find, especially the ones who might be straight. It was like a sport for them, figuring out who would be most easily embarrassed.

  “Sorry,” Cole murmured quietly, so he didn’t disrupt Gloria Whole’s song. “Just moody.”

  “More like mooning ... over your impossible crush.”

  He sighed. “He’s not a crush.”

  “No,” she mused, “I suppose once you’re fucking a guy, he becomes something else. But if he’s unattainable, what would that be?”

  “A fucking crush?” Gabrielle suggested with a grin. Cole cast her a dispirited look; he’d been counting on her for a little defense from Anita’s sharp wit. He’d deliberately not told her about breaking things off. He didn’t want to hear “I told you so.” He didn’t even want her approval. Because he wasn’t happy about it, and he sure as hell didn’t want to talk about it.

  “Fucking crush, that’s good,” Anita said. “A ... fuckcrush? A furush. Frush?”

  They giggled, already on their way to being drunk. On top of everything else, Cole would have to be their DD.

  “Glad my love life is so amusing.”

  “Why isn’t lover boy here?” Anita asked.

  Cole shrugged. “He had something else he had to do.” Stellar. That was a failproof alibi if he’d ever heard one. No way Anita would ever question he had something to do.