Chapter 6 Archangel
SIX
ARCHANGEL
“Ican’t believe we’re doing this,” I say as we get off the plane and walk out of the airport straight into the Savannah humidity. I’m instantly sweating.
“Stop doing that,” Wolfe says.
“What am I doing?” I glance over.
“You’re overthinking.” He nudges his shoulder against mine. He hasn’t been acting any different, but when we boarded the plane, something changed. Maybe I’m reading into it, or it’s all in my head, but he’s closer.
Even walking side by side, our arms keep brushing.
“How can you tell?” I ask as we exit the airport and head for the rental car garage.
“We’ve been friends our entire lives, dumbass. I can always tell.”
I swallow hard, not sure how to be less transparent, so he doesn’t see my real secret. It might be impossible if he keeps touching me.
“What did you rent?” he asks as we bypass the rental desk and head out into the lot.
“Nothing close to my baby.”
He lifts a brow. “Will I fit in it?”
I crack a smile. “Jury is still out on that one.”
“Fuck you. If I don’t fit, I’m getting my own car.”
“You’ll fit.” I get in the black Porsche 911.
He stands outside the car, tipping his head back with a sigh. “Do not test me, Archangel.”
I put the key in the ignition and start her up, then roll down the window. “Are you coming?”
He throws open the door and looks at the tiny space. “You really hate me, don’t you?” He half-falls, half-crams himself into the seat, and I can’t help but laugh. He shoves his middle finger in my face while I pull out of the spot.
I bite his hand playfully.
He growls and then adjusts, trying to put his seat back more, but it doesn’t budge. “Why do you keep doing this to me?”
“I like putting big things in tight spaces, I guess.”
When he doesn’t react, I give him a quick glance before leaving the garage. He’s stone cold, glaring. Is he upset?
“What?” I ask when he doesn’t stop.
“You know I haven’t gotten laid!”
“Now you know how I felt.” It’s bad how much I like his admission.
I crack the windows, inhaling the air to clear my head. I’d never move back to Georgia, or the South for that matter, but it still feels like home. I miss the weather and warmth on my skin year-round. Snow is bullshit.
Wolfe rolls down his window fully and sticks his head out like the golden retriever he is. His happiness is infectious, and I try to absorb as much of it as possible before we have to do this.
“You didn’t tell them, right?” he asks after I park in front of the rental house I booked. “I want it to be a surprise.”
“No, I wasn’t explaining this before it happens.” I shudder to think how that would have gone over with my sister. “But I have a plus one to the wedding if she ‘meets my boyfriend before’ and that was her mistake.”
“What did she say when you said you were bringing a date? Did you tell her it was me?”
“I just said I’m bringing someone. I’m not giving her time to change the rules. She can’t say she doesn’t know you. I’m also baby-stepping this in case you back out.”
“Not a shot. I’ve already taken my vow of celibacy!” Wolfe slips his hand into mine. “We’re platonic soulmates for life, and everyone will know it.”
My heart sinks a little as he squeezes my hand. I can’t let myself want this.
“What’s the matter?” He stops pulling my arm until I do, too.
“Just not looking forward to family.” I turn to face him instead of getting my bag. “What?”
“You need to enjoy this.”
“I can’t. You know how they are. I just need to get through it.”
“I’m here. You should have fun playing into it.”
“I don’t know if I can.” I get my bag and then find the lockbox for the rental key and open the door.
“What is your damn hangup now?” He corners me once we’re inside.
“They aren’t going to buy it. They are going to think we’re fucking with them.” I sigh, not wanting to have the conversation again, but it’s inevitable, and Wolfe doesn’t drop things.
“I thought we worked this out. I’m not seeing anyone else.”
“It’s more than that.”
“Why won’t they buy it?”
I lift my face to look into his eyes, leaning into the wall to get some space between us. “Because they know you. You and Steph were all over each other every chance you got. Us holding hands isn’t going to cut it.”
His brows knit as a serious frown forms on his lips.
“Don’t get upset. It’s okay. I’ve been thinking about it a lot. It’s fine to say we’re just here as friends. Or we can say something before the wedding. Put it off.” I’m trying to give him an out, but he stares at me like I’ve lost the plot.
“Fuck no. The whole point of this was to give your shitty homophobic family crap and to fuck with their perception of queer dudes, since they think all gay dudes are fem! They’ve always wanted you to be more like me.
So if the guy they want you to be like is gay, their heads will explode. ” He’s really thought about this.
“But you’re not.”
“They don’t know that, and there are plenty of gay dudes like me. Our coach is gay.”
Finding out our coach is gay was a weird one, but it still doesn’t change the point.
“Do you really want to have to deal with rumors your whole career? Any of the assholes in my family could leak it. People are going to talk when they notice you aren’t plowing through puck bunnies like your hockey career depends on it.”
“And? Being called gay isn’t an insult. You should know that.”
“I know, but—”
“But what?” Wolfe demands.
“It’s the way they say it. Like it’s the worst thing you could be.”
He uses a finger to tilt my face up. “They are wrong.”
“But it’s different when you’re the one dealing with the harassment. You don’t know what it’s like.” I want to warn him, but he’s not getting it. It will be so much worse when he’s in the majors.
“Let ‘em. I’m not worried. Anyone who gets online and calls me that can meet me at Chilis.”
“I still don’t know what that means…”
He rolls his eyes but backs off. “Never mind. But we are going to Chilis while we’re here.”
“Whatever. I need a drink.” I slump into the wall.
“We have to go to dinner, don’t we?”
“Yes, but I’m not going sober.”
“Want to have a couple of beers and check out the rooftop?” Wolfe asks.
“Sure.” I grab two beers and put the rest in the fridge, handing him one before we head up.
The space is perfect. I’m happy it was available to rent last minute. There’s a hot tub, a hammock, and a fire pit up there.
He takes a seat by the fire pit, kicking his feet up on the edge. “Walk me through what you think would convince your family we’re dating for real.”
“We’re not back on this, are we?” I sit in the chair next to him.
“You’re not even giving me a fucking chance. What do I need to do?” He grabs my chair and pulls it closer before putting his hand on my thigh like a threat. I’m not allowed to get up or take more space.
My cheeks are instantly on fire as I join him, not making eye contact. “Er—”
I really shouldn’t like this.
Instead of being demanding, he gets vulnerable. “Level with me, please. I need to know. Your sister is the only serious relationship I’ve been in, and that was high school.”
I ignore my suddenly rock-hard dick, blanking on words.
“Archangel, I’m your best friend. Why is this so hard for you?” He pulls his hand back, and I miss it.
“Well…”
“Are you that turned off by me?” he sounds upset and leans forward, putting his elbows on his knees.
I finally look at him. “No!”
“You’re sure fucking acting like it!” He sips his beer pissily.
“You’re hot as fuck. You shouldn’t need me to stroke your ego.” I adjust my seat so he doesn’t see my damn hard-on, sitting forward too, masking the bulge. “It’s just weird to tell you how to fake a relationship with me knowing you’re not into it.”
“Whatever. You’re making excuses. I’ll wing it if I have to.”
I really don’t want him to be upset. “Don’t do that.”
He lifts his chin in the air in the typical Wolfe temper tantrum. And annoyingly, it makes him hotter.
“Please,” I whisper.
“I’m not forgiving you unless you tell me,” he mutters.
Fuck.
I sit back, pushing a hand into my hair. “Well, like—coming up behind me to wrap your arms around me?” Every word I say, I imagine him doing to me and shiver. “Kissing the back of my neck?” I’m not about to suggest we make out in public; that’s too much PDA for a wedding shower.
“That’s easy enough,” he says, like it’s a done deal.
“You say that so nonchalant.”
“Because I am. What else?”
“This is not something to be nonchalant about. This is a chalant situation.” I don’t know how he’s not getting it.
“The only one chalant in this situation is you, and it’s hurting my feelings!” Wolfe glares. “Tell me what else.”
“It feels weird asking a straight guy to do this stuff to me.”
“I’m your best friend. You can ask me to do anything. We are ride or die, and I’m insulted you don’t know that!” His hurt comes through in his voice.
“Most guys wouldn’t…”
“Wouldn’t what?”
“There are lines with sexual stuff for straight guys!” I shoot back. I know I’m not the only one who thinks that.
“Tell me what else! I’ll decide if it’s too much.”
I can’t believe I’m actually doing this.
“We have to kiss.” I drop it like a bomb.
But do we?
Am I embellishing because I want to kiss him, or is this realistic? I can’t tell.
“Weddings are super romantic. I think it brings it out in people,” I hedge, feeling like I’ve lost it.
“Makes sense.” He nods along like this is all totally normal. “You said you wanted me to act how I did with your sister, so like grabbing your ass and stuff?”
I swallow hard, not sure I can go back. “Yes.”
“I think I’m picking up what you’re putting down.” He taps his temple, treating this like a fucking hockey play. “I can make it believable.” He slides his hand back up my thigh.
I’m not going to fucking survive this weekend.