Color tinged Alec’s cheeks, his expression open, exposed, reminding Dylan of Rick. And the age-old need to protect bristled through Dylan. He forced himself to grip the handles of the Harley.
He’d spent his adolescent years using his fists to defend his friend against homophobic bullies, but Tyler wasn’t one of those. And this wasn’t Dylan’s fight. Besides, the ex was right. Clearly Alec was as green as they came. But for some reason the trace of alarm in Tyler’s tone ticked Dylan off, mostly because Tyler looked completely in control while Alec seemed too agitated to reply. Though preferable to babbling, Dylan hoped Alec’s tongue-tied state wouldn’t continue. Because somebody needed to say something…
The awkward moment stretched to the point where Dylan couldn’t take the pressured silence anymore. “Alec is handling her just fine,” Dylan lied.
“Fine” being a relative term, of course. But he chose to ignore the are-you-kidding-me? look Alec lobbed in Dylan’s direction. No false bravado from the man. What followed was a hint of skepticism in Tyler’s eyes that raised Dylan’s hackles further.
“How well do you know Alec?” Tyler asked.
For the life of him, Dylan couldn’t stop the words that scraped from his mouth next. Maybe because, with the simple lift of a brow, Tyler had more or less called Dylan a liar—which wouldn’t have pissed Dylan off so much except for the fact it was true. Maybe he was irked by the smooth tone of Tyler’s voice while Alec looked so friggin’ miserable, the seeming imbalance of power always triggering the reflexive action.
Protecting Rick had been Dylan’s most important job. But using his fists was no longer an option. Words, however, were.
Which often popped out of Dylan with zero advanced planning.
“I know him well enough,” Dylan said, hoping to bring Tyler down a peg or two, level the playing field for Alec, so to speak. “Alec brought me home and fucked my brains out last night.”
Whoa, that felt all kinds of weird coming from his mouth.
The silence that followed lasted just long enough for Dylan to register Alec’s jaw go slack and the blank expression on Tyler’s face. The new boyfriend pressed his lips together and looked away. Dylan couldn’t be sure, but the man might have been laughing.
Finally, Tyler studied Dylan, his gaze drifting over his holey jeans, faded T-shirt, and work boots. “Alec slept with you last night,” Tyler said, a question mark buried at the end.
Was he daring Dylan to confirm the statement? Dylan crossed his arms, fast losing patience with the man for calling him out on his lies.
“Yes.” As if his previous statement hadn’t been crazy enough, Dylan found himself upping the ante. “We’ve been pretty hot ’n heavy for a while now.”
“Interesting,” Tyler said, his expression unreadable. Two beats passed before Tyler glanced at Alec. “So I assume he’ll be attending Noah’s cocktail party as your date?”
A date?
Alec’s mouth opened, but no sound came. As the man’s mute state continued, Dylan shifted on the motorcycle, the awkward tension making his muscles tight. The look on Tyler’s face was clear. He didn’t believe a word Dylan had said, and the answer to the party question was simply a test. If Dylan said no, Tyler would be proven right.
But if Dylan said yes…
Jesus, what was he thinking? He couldn’t say yes. Dylan knew plenty of people who swung that way, and Rick had been as gay as they came, but Dylan wasn’t sure he could even fake an attraction to a guy. ’Course, he was an expert at bullshitting his way through just about anything.
You don’t have time for this.
Dylan opened his mouth to refute the ridiculous “date” idea and then glanced at the expression on Alec’s face. The man was bleeding vulnerability. And after three years on the streets with a friend who’d been a constant target, Dylan couldn’t change now, the protector-mode as ingrained as breathing. The words shot out before he could stop them.
“Yep, I’ll be there. I wouldn’t miss Noah’s party for the world,” Dylan said.
Fuck. He could just imagine the hysterical laughter coming from Noah now.
Alec’s voice was strained. “Yes, Dylan will be attending with me.”
Well, double fuck. Alec made a lousy liar. The light in Tyler’s eyes transmitted his complete skepticism. He didn’t believe either one of them. And Dylan decided the man must be a total douchebag.
An extremely astute douchebag, but a douchebag nonetheless.
“I’ll just collect the last of my things,” Tyler said.
Alec waved at six neatly stacked boxes in the coroner of the garage. “Help yourself.”
As soon as Tyler and his boyfriend left, each carrying two cartons as they headed for the Range Rover, Alec leaned in Dylan’s direction.
“What the hell did you say all that for?” Alec whispered, blue eyes blazing.
Dylan ignored the churn in his stomach as he wondered exactly same thing. “He was pissing me off,” he said, hating that he felt so defensive. “How the heck did you spend two years with that asshole?”