Chapter 8 Wolfe
EIGHT
WOLFE
Steph is cartoon-villain evil, and I don’t trust her with my sweet, precious Angel. I barge into the women’s bathroom and know that bitch said some shit. Archangel’s entire face is strained, fighting emotion.
“What did she say to you?” I shove between them, putting my hands on his shoulders.
“The truth,” Steph says from behind me.
“Get the fuck out,” I say to her without looking away from Archangel.
“You cannot come to my wedding if you’re going to speak to—”
I cut her off. “Leave, or I’ll tell Mark you’re a cheater.”
She seethes, but it seems to do what I wanted. The door slams behind her.
“Do you want to leave?”
“We can’t.” He shakes his head and forces a smile, but his dimples aren’t there so I know it’s not real. “I’m fine.”
He’s not fine.
He’s fighting tears.
“We can go back to the rental and chill. I’ll tell everyone you’re not feeling well.”
He shakes his head. “My mom will never buy it, and she will be livid if I embarrass her in front of the whole family.”
“How is getting sick embarrassing her?”
“Let’s go back to the table before they think we’re fucking in here or something.”
I bar the exit. “Let them think it.”
“What are you trying to accomplish?” He sets his jaw and looks me in the eyes.
“What did she say to you?”
“She’s just being a bitch.”
“I can’t do anything to help if I don’t know what happened.” I don’t know how to get through to him that I want to be here for him.
“There is nothing you can do,” he says it with no emotion, and I hate it. “You’ve gotten to her and probably Mark. You won. It’s fine. You got what you wanted, and no one’s been homophobic yet.” There’s something he’s not saying. “Can we please go back?”
He wipes his eyes, and reluctantly, I lower my arm ““Fine.”
I follow him back to the table, and his family tries to hide it, but they are looking at us like we fucked in the bathroom.
Dickbags. I’m going to use that to my advantage.
My original intent in all of this was to stand up to his family and stick it to Steph, but more than anything else, I am here to protect Angel.
I’d never do anything to hurt him intentionally.
The more I think about it, the angrier I get. I’m going to kill her. She can say whatever she wants to me, but hurting him is too far.
“Wolfe,” Archangel calls, snapping me out of my head.
“Yes, Angel baby?”
He blinks at me but recovers quickly. “Do you want another drink…”
I slide my hand into his. “No, you have one. I’ll drive.”
His glare lingers for a second too long, but he doesn’t pull his hand away. “Perfect, baby.” His use of baby warms my chest.
It’s a little fuck you. But I like it.
The rest of dinner goes smoothly. Or as smoothly as an overly polite southern family dinner can be. He’s pretty tipsy by the end, and instead of taking his hand, I take his arm, guiding him through the restaurant.
“Are you going to be able to drive?” Archangel asks when the valet hands me the keys.
“You caused this problem!” I get him tucked into the passenger side, then wedge myself into the driver’s seat.
“How did I cause this?” he asks, like he didn’t rent the smallest car known to man.
“You could have gotten a normal-sized car!” I barely fit under the steering wheel, but it’s enough to work.
“I got a fun car. It’s not my fault you’re huge.”
“I am a reasonable size! And you could have gotten a reasonable sized car.” I take off toward our rental.
“Giant is now reasonable?” he says, all sassy.
“Perfectly reasonable!”
“The only thing reasonable in giant size is dicks.”
I glance over at him after I park. “It’s reasonable sized to match my reasonable size.” I wink and get out of the car.
He half falls out of the car. “What?”
“Are you honestly surprised?” I unlock the door, then look over my shoulder. “We’ve been in the shower together.”
“You know, because I’m openly gay, I have to be doubly sure to keep my eyes to myself in the shower.” Angel is a bit of a mess and can’t walk a straight line.
“I didn’t know that.” I’d never thought about him looking at me in that way. I’ve always been totally comfortable around him, so I’d never given any thought to how the other guys treat him. “No one gives you shit, right?”
“Not anymore.”
“What do you mean, not anymore?” I help him up the front stairs and inside.
“In the beginning, some guys were…” He lifts his shoulders. “It doesn’t matter.”
“It matters to me.” I lower him into a chair.
His eyes flutter half closed. “It was a couple of the older guys. They are long gone. With Cox and Coach Hawke, no one gives a fuck anymore.”
“I wish I’d known then.”
He rolls his eyes. “You don’t need to fight any more people on my behalf.”
“I don’t need to do anything. I want to do it.” I put my hands on the arms of the chair he’s in and lean over him. “What do you want to do tonight? Or are you too drunk?”
“I’m not that drunk, and it’s early.”
“Don’t we have to be up really early for the shower?”
“I’m not going to mass with them, so we don’t need to be up as early,” he says entirely with attitude.
“What are you in the mood for?” I ask.
“Are you suggesting we go out or something?” He drags his gaze down my body, looking at me in a way he never has before.
I’m sure I made him curious with my dick comment. And I’m not even sorry. My dick is amazing. Anyone would be curious.
“No.” That’s the last fucking thing I want to do. We used to only go out to get laid, so we might as well stay in where his focus will be on me because I’m selfish. “Why don’t we just stay here? Then I can tuck your delicate ass into bed early, and you get your beauty sleep.”
“Fuck off. I’m not that delicate,” he growls.
“The way you played after our team adoption event says otherwise.” I suppress a smile.
“That was one fucking game!”
I shrug, knowing I’m right.
“You don’t want to go out and meet people?” he asks again.
“I thought we weren’t doing that.” My tone is harsh, but I want to drive home the point.
Archangel wears a confused look. “We’re not.”
“We can try out the hot tub. I’m still sore from the game yesterday.” I roll my shoulders and then tug my shirt off.
“Sure.” He swallows hard, and I love it.
Why is it so much fun to get a rise out of him?
“Great. I’ll go get my suit.”
“Cool. Cool.”
It only takes me a minute to change, and then I’m getting a couple of fresh beers and heading up to the roof deck. It takes Archangel ten minutes to join me. He walks out in blue trunks with tiny bananas on them. With the sun down, it’s a little chilly, and Archangel shivers.
“Mine are better.” I stand up out of the water, showing off my hot pink mini trunks with gold fish on them.
“God damn it. How do you keep getting better trunks?” He laughs and softens. He’s still in a bad mood over whatever Steph said to him, but I’m making it my mission to cheer him up.
The trunks competition was a thing we’d gone back and forth on since high school, and I loved to win. It got more outlandish every year.
“It’s a combination of talent and lots of time on the internet.”
He walks over and seems to have sobered at least a little. “And that short. Jesus. Your balls are going to hang out if you sit wrong.”
“It’s just because I’m tall. They look way shorter.” Which was part of it. I’d also taken them to my friend who was in fashion school and had her shorten them because I liked to show off my quads.
“Lord.” He stares for a minute, then shakes it off. “It’s like a tractor beam. I can’t look away.” Archangel was starting to act more like himself, thankfully. It gave me time to work him back up.
“Then it’s working.” I wiggle my brows and sink back down. “Come on in—the water is nice!”
Archangel swings his leg over the side. “Got one for me.”
“I got two for you.” I hold up the beer.
He reaches for it.
I don’t hand it over. “It’s gonna cost you.”
Archangel tries to grab it out of my hand, but I don’t let him get it.
“I told you, you have to earn it.”
“Fine.” He stands in the middle of the water. “How am I earning this?”
I sip my beer, keeping his above my head. “First, are you feeling better about tomorrow?”
He sighs, sinking lower. “That’s fucking loaded. Yes, and no. My family acted better, but there will be a lot more extended family and friends at the shower.”
We did this a lot. Trade alcohol for answers. We’d both used it a lot to get shit out of the other that they didn’t want to talk about. We don’t really need it anymore. He would have told me if I asked, but I like it, and so does he.
“So talk to me about it. What are you worried about?”
“I don’t know. Just all of it. You put them in their place pretty good today, but the shower is going to be filled with all the worst people my mother knows.”
“I can hold my own.” I focus on him. “Are you worried about them being dicks?”
“No, I just am tired of their general attitude.”
“We can ditch.” I know he won’t even as I say it, but I have to offer.
“You know I can’t.” He swipes the beer from my grasp, and I let him have it.
“Then what can I do to make it go better? I’ll do anything you want.”
He perks up a little, getting a half smile that shows off a hint of his dimples. “Don’t play.”
I cross my heart. “What can I do to make you feel better?”
He shifts in his seat. He’s holding something back. “I’ll have to think about it.”
“You do that.”
What won’t he tell me? Now I have to fucking know. I won’t sleep unless I do. It’s the worst part of my brain sometimes, once I get a bug in it, I cannot let it go. I need a damn plan.
We drink and talk about the season. He loosens up more, but he’s still not talking openly. At some point he breaks open the vodka, and we’re both too fucking drunk, but he keeps pouring, and I keep taking the shots.
“Are you trying to get me drunk to take advantage of me?” I say playfully, covering the top of my glass when he tries to pour me another.
“Take advantage of you? Mister King of Cockblock himself.”
I gasp like he’s just delivered me a mortal wound. “I am a great wing man!”
“Only when you want to be.” Archangel throws back, taking a drink out of the fifth.
I grab it from him when he’s done and take my own drink. When he tries to take the bottle back, I withhold it. “What did your sister say?”
He hesitates. “She said you’re straight.”
“That’s not how straightness works! I’m dating a man.”
“She doesn’t believe it.” He’s cagey and trying to pretend it’s not a big deal, but I know him better than that.
“I guess I’m amping it up tomorrow.”
Angel’s gaze snaps to mine. “What does that mean?”
“You told me to be like I used to be with her.” The math is mathing in my drunk brain. I have a plan.
“I don’t like the sound of it.” He takes the bottle and takes a long swig.
“Do you revoke consent?” My attention moves to his throat. He’s gorgeous, and he doesn’t even know it. Better than anyone he’s brought home. And the best person I know. I hate that he’s hurting.
Confusion flickers in his eyes. “What? No. I’m just not sure what you think you’re going to do to convince her. Certainly not grab my dick in public or something.” Archangel’s tone is sarcastic.
I stand and step between his knees. “I don’t need to do that much.”
Archangel lifts his chin, assessing me. “What do you think will work?”
“I think if I kiss you and can’t keep my hands off of you, they’ll get the idea I’m obsessed with you.”
“Kiss me?” His voice trembles with a mixture of laugh and scoff, like he thinks I’m bullshitting him.
“Do you think there is anything I won’t do for you?”
“It’s not that. It’s not weird for you?”
“I’m secure as fuck. And you’re my best friend.” I put a knee on the bench between his. “It can’t be that different, and I’ve kissed a lot of people I was a little grossed out by the next morning.”
Angel sticks his tongue out. “I do not want to hear about that.”
“I know you’re not gross. Your hygiene is great.”
“It’s still gay.”
I wave him off. “It’s got to be the same. People are put together almost the same.”
“Your drunk logic is something else. You need to go to bed.”
“My drunk logic could end wars! I am on to something.” I nod, very sure of myself when an idea hits me. “Do you think we should practice?”
Archangel coughs, choking on the beer he’s chasing the vodka with. “What do you mean?”
“I don’t want the first time I kiss you to be in front of your family. Then it will look awkward. We have to look like we’ve kissed before, right?” I am making all of the sense here. This isn’t even the alcohol talking.
“You want to kiss me?” he whispers, almost hesitant.
Who hasn’t kissed their best friend for fun?
This seems perfectly normal. Or so I’m going to keep telling myself because I’m drunk and you’re allowed to make stupid decisions when drunk. That’s like the whole point of the college experience or whatever.
“Don’t you think it will be weird if the first time I kiss you is tomorrow? I’m just being practical.” I know I have a point.
On top of that, I haven’t gotten laid in a week, which is basically a year with my track record.
Being a little bi-curious when horny and drunk is a valid fucking experience.
There are so many upsides. If kissing him doesn’t suck, it also opens a lot of doors to make faking this a lot easier until the wedding.
His breath hitches. “You’re right. It would be weird for the first time to be tomorrow.”
“And don’t you think it will blow our cover if it is?”
He just stares at me.
“I mean, I can just wing it tomorrow.” I hold my hands up.
Maybe he’s not into me. It’s fine if he doesn’t want to.
“No!”
“So you want to kiss me?”