Operation Makeover

by D. J. Jamison

  Thankfully, Gabrielle wiggled in her seat and pointed, distracting Anita. “There’s Theo!”

  “Miss Cherry Topping,” Cole corrected. “Don’t be caught calling her Theo when she looks like that.”

  Anita gasped. “Tell me you did that.”

  Cole perked up. “Of course I did, but she helped.”

  An elaborate headdress crowned a costume of vivid yellows and purples. A spray of peacock feathers layered upon peacock feathers, with accent feathers in purples and yellows to coordinate with the dress, crowned her red curls.

  “It’s gorgeous,” Gabrielle said.

  “She’s gorgeous,” Cole said, swelling with pride — not for his headdress, but for Theo. He’d been so unsure of his path when Cole met him, and now Miss Cherry Topping was one of the most glorious divas of the night. It might be her first time on stage, but she was a natural, strutting across the floor and throwing up her arms as she lip-synced Natural Woman. When the bar patrons began holding out their dollar bills, Miss Cherry leaned forward, offering her cleavage and then raising a hand to cover her mouth and widening her eyes in shock when a guy shoved the bill in the low neckline of her dress.

  She fanned herself before resuming the performance, making the crowd laugh.

  After the show wrapped up, the dance floor opened for regular dancing. Cole had to shoo away a beefy guy with a hopeful look on his face that made Cole feel a little bad. He’d always accepted every dance invitation he’d gotten, not wanting to be one of those bitchy twinks who thought they were hot shit. But his heart wasn’t in it tonight. He wanted to finish his drink, congratulate Theo, and then slink home.

  “You should dance,” Anita said. When he shrugged, she added, “Christ, Cole, you’re not married to the guy! He wants someone else.”

  Cole sucked in a breath at the sharp pain that stung his face as surely as if she’d slapped him.

  “Anita,” Gabrielle scolded. “Harsh much?”

  “It’s tough love.” She faltered. “But I didn’t mean to be such a bitch. It’s just... the best friend.”

  “Jace,” Cole said.

  “Who cares what his name is?”

  “No, Jace,” Cole said, standing and squinting across the room, where Jace, a muscular guy, and a slim woman were dancing together. The woman, with long blonde hair, was in the middle, but Jace’s eyes were eating up the other guy’s body. “That’s him.”

  “The ménage dance?” Gabrielle asked.

  “Yeah. I didn’t think he was bi ...”

  Poor Ridley. Was I wrong to leave him like that, waiting on something that might never happen? I thought Jace cared.

  “Wow,” Gabrielle said. “Are you going to tell Ridley?”

  Cole shook his head. “No. It’d only hurt him.”

  Anita snorted. “Maybe he needs a little tough love too.”

  Cole tore his eyes away from the spectacle to scowl at her. “Not everyone wants their noses rubbed in their mistakes,” he snapped. “Ridley’s been in love with his best friend since high school. He’s a romantic, but that doesn’t mean he should be ridiculed.”

  Anita lifted her hands. “Okay, sorry.”

  “He deserves everything he wants,” Cole said.

  “Yeah, well, so do you,” Anita said, more gently. “I don’t want to see you hurt.”

  Too late for that.

  Cole smiled and shrugged. “I’ll be fine. I always am.”

  “Come on,” Gabrielle said, “let’s go have our own ménage dance.”

  “I don’t dance with girls,” Cole said in a snooty voice, thankful that Gabrielle had broken the tension. She was good for Anita. She softened her hard edges and was a good buffer in situations like this.

  “Not even me?” Theo asked, appearing at his side. He’d left the stage more than thirty minutes before, his act coming early in the show, but it had taken him a while to de-drag. He stood beside Cole now in jeans and a tank top, skin still shiny with sweat. It made him sparkly, and his wide smile only added to the effect.

  “I’ll make an exception for you,” Cole said.

  He let himself be corralled onto the dance floor with his friends and attempted to find his usual spark of energy rather than moping about Ridley and Jace and all the reasons Cole couldn’t have the man he wanted most.

  Ridley paused on the wooded trail to chug water. He drank half the bottle, then lifted it to pour the rest over his face and neck.

  “It’s too fucking hot for this. Why’d I let you talk me into a hike?”

  “Because you’re a glutton for punishment,” Jace joked.

  “Sounds about right.”

  He knew the real reason he’d come hiking. A full week after Cole had gotten into his car and driven off, Ridley was desperate for a distraction. He’d bailed on the dinner party the night before, unable to stomach socializing with a bunch of friends when he’d only be wishing Cole was beside him. But today, he was desperate for anything to take his mind off his utter failure with Cole.

  A handful of texts and two phone calls later, he’d made no progress. He was tempted to show up at his apartment. Only the memory of Travis at Cole’s door and the desire to never, ever behave like a stalker had stopped him.

  “You wear a wet tank top well, though,” Jace added with a wink before starting up the path again at a brisk pace.

  Ridley glanced down, tugging at the tank where it was plastered over his chest. It was one of those athletic shirts meant to wick away moisture when he sweat, and it was an electric blue. He’d bought it on his own, using the size Cole had encouraged him to start wearing, and as a result, it was molded to his body like a second skin.

  Who would have thought that out of all the things he bought and wore, it would be a freaking tank top and gym shorts that caught Jace’s eye?

  It wasn’t anything special. But since the “makeover,” he’d taken more care with his appearance. He’d given little thought to his clothes in the past — partly because thinking about it only had one of two outcomes: He either felt like a poser, sure everyone would see through his attempt to look good; or he would become stressed out, overwhelmed by all the various styles out there and uncertain what would work for him. Now, thanks to Cole, he had a better idea of size and colors. More confidence in his appearance too. He’d had no idea just how insecure he was before Cole came along and pointed it out.

  But thinking about Cole was precisely what he didn’t need.

  With a groan of discontent, he followed Jace on the trail, working not to huff and puff too much. He was in decent shape, and the trail wasn’t that strenuous, running over mostly flat ground around a lake. But it was so incredibly hot everything felt tougher.

  They hiked to a small lookout over the lake, which was up a small hill. The sun was bright overhead, blindingly so. Ridley shielded his eyes with a hand and looked out at the view: the rich greens of trees weathering the summer better than him, interrupted with fiery bursts of red oaks of some kind. The sparkling water of the large lake that looked invitingly cool. Open fields of freshly cut wheat that went on and on. And beyond them, a meandering river.

  Jace plopped down on a large, flat rock, and Ridley lowered himself beside him. “Here,” Jace said, thrusting a bottle at him. “You shouldn’t have wasted your water pouring it over yourself.”

  Ridley accepted the water bottle — and the lecture — taking a long drink. When he finished, he handed it back to Jace. “Thanks.”

  They looked out over the lake, just absorbing the sight and the nature around them.

  “What’s up with you and Cole?” Jace asked out of the blue.

  Wasn’t that the million-dollar question? Ridley was trying to keep faith, but Cole had dodged him all week. As much as he didn’t want to believe it, he thought it might really be over. Whatever it was.

  Something special, and you blew it, his conscience supplied.

  Unwilling to admit defeat, he shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s complicated.”

  Jace snorte
d. “Isn’t it always?”

  “You say that like you know,” Ridley said skeptically. “When’s the last time you even tried to date someone seriously? And don’t tell me you were serious about Leo because I call bullshit.”

  Jace smiled wryly. “Fair enough. Leo was fun, but I knew that would never last. But the hookup thing is getting old. I met this guy I could have really liked. But the way we met was too fucked up for anything real to ever happen. You know?”

  “Not really.”

  Jace laughed, sounding embarrassed. “I’ll spare you the details. You really don’t wanna know,” he said. “Let’s just say … I’m getting tired of hooking up. It seems less complicated on the surface, but if you want something real …”

  “I get that,” Ridley said, thinking that if he’d simply asked out Cole instead of hooking up with the illusion of “practice” and then “friends with benefits,” maybe he wouldn’t be in the predicament he was in. “I didn’t know you wanted to date seriously.”

  Ridley didn’t long for Jace like he once had, but it still stung that Jace had never even considered him an option.

  “Recent development,” Jace said with a wry smile. “Guess I’m getting old. Looking to settle down.”

  “Dude, you’re only a year older than me.”

  “I rest my case.”

  Ridley shoved him, and he nearly fell off the rock. Laughing, he grabbed Ridley’s biceps, clutching tight to catch his balance.

  He was slow to let go. “So ... if things are complicated with Cole... and things are definitely too complicated with the guy I met recently.”

  “Yeah?”

  Jace met his gaze. “Maybe we should try simple.”

  “Simple?”

  “You and me. Dating. What could be simpler than that?”

  29

  Cole was run off his feet at the salon the next week, which was awesome. Busy hands and busy mind meant no time to wallow. His favorite client, Ginny, was back in his chair. And she was cracking him up with another story about Clint, the Don Juan of the retirement community. She’d finally cornered him into a date, using every weapon in her arsenal — primarily gossip — to get him to admit that he had been friendly with some of the other ladies, and so his excuse that he was still mourning his “sweet Audrey” was a crock of horse manure.

  “What happened then?” Cole asked as he snipped carefully at the ends of Ginny’s thin hair.

  “Well, he did the gentlemanly thing and invited me to sit beside him for the evening’s showing of Titanic,” she said.

  Cole chuckled. “Of course he did. So, how did that go?”

  The door chime sounded, and Cole glanced up. Sure enough, his next appointment was strolling in with about six shopping bags dangling from her wrists. Callie wasn’t one of his favorite clients; she was a little too upper middle-class snooty, but her money was green, and she loved his work. A stylist had to make a living, so he cast her a friendly smile. “Be ready in just one minute, Callie.”

  A brief flash of irritation crossed her face, only to intensify when Ginny cackled madly. “Nothing happened. I got one gander at Leonardo and my heart was beating for another man. Poor old Clint didn’t stand a chance.”

  Cole was still laughing when he grabbed his cell phone where it was vibrating hard enough to rattle the tray where he’d set it down.

  He’d been so careful. He’d blocked Travis’s number after a particularly nasty text, and ever since he’d left Ridley’s house, he’d checked the caller ID screen before answering. The only excuse he had for failing to do so now was that he was busy, distracted by Ginny’s funny story, and mistakenly of the opinion that Ridley wouldn’t call him during work hours.

  “This is the fabulous Cole,” he answered brightly, expecting the call to be about booking an appointment. He had forwarded his booking app to ring his cell direct because they didn’t have an employee dedicated to appointment taking.

  “Hey, it’s Ridley.”

  Cole froze, his eyes going to Ginny and Callie, the two women both watching him expectantly.

  “Please don’t hang up,” Ridley said when Cole didn’t respond.

  Cole tightened his grip on the phone, his palm suddenly slippery, and turned around to hide his expression from his clients. “Ridley, I’m slammed at work,” he said quietly.

  “I’ve missed you so much,” Ridley said hurriedly.

  Cole blew out a breath. “Why are you making this harder for me? I don’t like this either, but I need to let you go before I get in too deep.”

  He was already in too deep, his heart a bruised reminder of just how hard he’d fallen, but he wasn’t going to tell Ridley that.

  “I don’t want to hurt you, but I wasn’t ready for that talk when you sprung it on me. You caught me off-guard, and there’s more to say.”

  Cole was torn. After what he’d seen of Jace at Q after the drag show, it felt as if he was setting up Ridley to be hurt. Maybe he should reconsider and tell Ridley about it. What if Jace never came around, and he’d thrown away an amazing man? But … if Ridley only chose him because Jace broke his heart was that really any better? It still wouldn’t make him Ridley’s first love. But could he still be Ridley’s future love? He didn’t know. His head was all muddled, and Callie was huffing impatiently, and he just couldn’t make any decisions right now.

  “I really have to go,” he said.

  “Jace asked me out,” Ridley blurted.

  Cole nearly dropped the phone. His heart clenched painfully. So much for Jace not coming around.

  “Wow. That’s … great. Really great.”

  “I’m not so sure it is.”

  Cole forced out the words he had to say. It ripped him apart, but Ridley needed to do this. He’d been waiting for Jace a long, long time.

  “Don’t be silly,” he said in a bright voice that sounded incredibly false to his own ears. “The makeover worked! That was the point of everything we did.”

  “Not everything we did,” Ridley said in a low voice.

  Callie’s sharp voice interrupted.

  “Are you almost ready for me?” she called out. “I made an appointment for 12:30.”

  Cole cast a glance at the clock, cursing internally when he saw it read 12:31. Callie was so damn impatient. He was just about finished with Ginny, who gave him a sympathetic smile when he looked her way.

  Tuning back in, he realized he’d missed some of what Ridley was saying. But did it matter? Jace had asked out Ridley. Everything was happening as it should. Right? Cole just needed to get on with is hlife and let Ridley be happy.

  “I’m sorry,” he interrupted Ridley. “I’m late for a client. I really can’t talk now. But I’m happy for you. For you and Jace.”

  Cole hung up the phone and tossed it onto the tray nearby.

  “Is it wrong to wish a good man a fast trip off a bridge?” he asked Ginny as he walked her to the front counter to pay her bill.

  “Who’s taking this trip? Your Ridley or his date?”

  “Not Ridley,” he said, startled as he took her credit card and ran it through the scanner. “He’s a sweetheart. No, I meant the man who just asked him out.”

  “Honey, why don’t you just tell Ridley you love him?” Ginny asked. “Sometimes the simplest solution is to be honest and upfront with a person.”

  Cole’s hands stilled, and he struggled to maintain his expression. God, he did love Ridley. So much. Maybe he had from the beginning. Ridley had always been holding out for Jace, and Cole had known it. But somehow, he’d fooled himself into thinking he could keep it to casual sex. How wrong he’d been.

  It hurt so fucking much.

  Thank goodness he’d walked away when he had. As much as it pained him to hear Ridley had a date with Jace, it’d be ten times worse if Ridley had made that call while they were still seeing each other. The rejection would have cut him to pieces.

  “I can’t,” he said quietly as he handed her a receipt. “He’s been in love with Jace forever.
They’ve been best friends since high school. I can’t ruin that for him.”

  She tsked. “That’s a shame.”

  He smiled sadly. “Yeah, but it’s my own fault. I knew he wasn’t available, and I fell for him anyway.”

  “The heart wants what it wants,” she said.

  “Stupid organ.”

  “Here you are,” Anita said a few hours later, sliding a jumbo-sized margarita onto the table in front of Cole. “Phone is safely secured, and margaritas are coming all night. Operation shitty boyfriend is under way.”

  “He’s not a shitty boyfriend,” Cole said.

  “Ugh, do we have to go through the denial phase?”

  “He’s not a boyfriend at all,” Cole grumbled. “We were never dating.”

  “He’s worse,” Gabrielle said from her place beside Anita. “He used you. Took advantage of your giving nature.”

  “It was such good using too,” Cole mused before sucking his straw. Lime and tequila burst over his tongue. He scrunched up his face but kept drinking. “But I don’t think it’s using when you beg for more.”

  Anita snorted. “Yeah, maybe the using wasn’t all one-sided, but you had feelings, and he didn’t respect them.”

  Cole held up a finger. “First of all, no. This isn’t Ridley’s fault. He was honest. I’m the liar. I’m the one who told him we could ‘practice,’ and we could just ‘have fun.’”

  “Fun being code for sex.”

  “Duh.”

  Cole grabbed his straw and stirred his drink aggressively. He was mad at himself. Mad at the situation. But he could never, ever be mad at Ridley.

  “I just wish he wasn’t so fucking perfect.” He thunked his head down on the table beside his margarita. “What am I going to do?”

  “It’s going to be a long night,” Anita murmured, tousling his hair with a gentle hand.

  Cole’s phone dinged with a text. Anita, who’d taken ownership to ensure he didn’t drunk text Ridley, pulled it from her pocket and tapped in his passcode to wake it up.

  “Hey, how do you know my code?”

  She snorted. “Uh, from the last dozen times I’ve managed your phone?”