Chapter 1
CHAPTER 1
KEVIN
My pounding head sent shockwaves that felt like it rocked my entire body. I groaned, hurting from what had to be the worst hangover in all histories of hangovers. Not that I’d had many hangovers in my life to compare since I was technically underage and all, but nobody at the house party was going to snitch on me.
I knew those last shots were a bad idea, but it was hard to say no to the birthday boy, especially when he was my best friend. If my head felt like it was killing me, I was sure Bernie probably wished he could chop his off right about now.
Bernard Alter—or Bernie for short—otherwise known as my best friend and the person who got me into this state in the first place, had a grand birthday bash at his family’s mansion. His parents were out of town for some snazzy charity event overseas, and he’d taken full advantage of their absence to raid their alcohol stash.
Chaos had descended the place. His fraternity brothers and what felt like a hundred other guests had swarmed the stash until the mansion was filled with a messy crowd of lust-filled drunken bodies acting like the place was a nightclub.
It wasn’t my usual crowd, but as the birthday boy’s bestie, it was my duty to stick by his side and make sure he didn’t drunkenly call his ex, or at least that was what Bernie had said after the third—fourth?—shot he’d insisted I do with him.
The night was pretty much a blur at this point, but what I did know was I’d accomplished my duties and more. I made sure his phone was nowhere within his reach, and after the final round of shots, when neither of us were steady at our feet at that point, I tucked him in tight and cozy into his bed, cleared out the stragglers from his place, and locked up before heading home.
How I even made it home was another question altogether, but I wasn’t going to try to figure out that very complex mystery right now. Not when my head was thrumming so hard I was physically hearing the pounding…
It took another second before I realized it wasn’t my hungover brain creating the sound, and the pounding was actually coming from my front door.
I checked my phone to see it was still nine in the morning. Who the hell was making all this noise so early in the morning after a party?
Pulling the covers over my head to block out the piercing bright sunlight and help muffle the annoying banging, I prayed whoever was at my door would get the hint and fuck off.
My prayers weren’t answered as the pounding continued five minutes later. Whoever was there was either a desperate salesman or was, in fact, looking for me.
Groaning, I rolled off my bed, shocked I was able to land feet first and stand up somewhat steadily. My body felt like lead as I trudged to the front door and swung it open. I opened my mouth to tell the person making all the noise to shut the fuck up so that I could go back to bed, but then the man turned around, and whatever words I’d been about to say evaporated like smoke.
Lance Wall faced me with a wide grin that faltered for just a second when he saw me before he reined it in, beaming again. He held out a red rose and a balloon for me to take, and in my still half-asleep state, I was starting to think I’d actually fallen back asleep and this was all a sweet dream.
But then he opened his mouth and started singing, and holy hell could Lance Wall sing. His voice was smooth and perfectly hit all the notes. It was very much different from the off-key screeching I did in the shower.
It was only then that I noticed what Lance was wearing. He had on a costume that was in the form of a pink sweetheart candy with the words “Be Mine” written on his chest. Honestly, he looked ridiculous in it, and I was wondering how it had taken me so long to realize he’d been wearing it.
I blamed my alcohol-clouded mind on my slow uptake.
This was all too surreal.
Lance Wall was standing in front of my door, singing a rendition of Love by Michael Bublé. He reached the last line of the chorus, saying that we were love.
Okay, it was moving a little fast, but my feelings for him were practically borderline love. So what if we weren’t dating? I could still love someone one-sidedly.
Considering he was singing about how he loved me, I guessed my love wasn’t so one-sided after all.
I was in a daze and watched as his mouth moved. I wasn’t really hearing him. Happy adrenaline was rushing to my brain, along with probably the last of the alcohol that was still in my system.
I only caught fragments of what he was saying.
Friday. Valentines. Will you?
And Oh-My-God!
Was he asking me to be his Valentine?
I had to be dreaming.
My still alcohol-laden brain wasn’t working fast enough right now to comprehend all of this.
Lance was one of Bernie’s frat brothers.
I’d met him at one of the frat parties Bernie had dragged me to early last year. He’d been chatting with a group of his frat bros, laughing at something one of them said.
The way his blue eyes lit up and crinkled as his entire body shook with joy instantly caught my attention. He was so vibrant, practically glowing with his blond hair in the dim house, and I found myself watching him for the rest of the night.
I tried to be subtle and not act like a blushing buffoon when Bernie had introduced us, but I probably wasn’t good at keeping my crush a secret as I thought. Not that I was going to think too deeply about how he knew about my crush right now.
I also wasn’t going to question this opportunity that practically landed in my lap.
Without even hesitating, I nodded. The smile that graced Lance’s face at my answer had me my body floating and my eyes buzzing.
He said more words, but I wasn’t functioning enough to comprehend. It was something about a date and meeting at the student center in an hour.
He said more words after that, but honestly, I wasn’t really paying attention since I was floating on cloud nine.
I was going on a date with Lance!
After almost two semesters of trying to get close enough to him to find out if he was even interested in men, I’d succeeded in neither becoming his friend nor discovering his sexuality. To him, I was just Bernie’s awkward best friend who didn’t have much of a presence.
At least that’s what I thought…until now!
Because Lance just asked me to be his Valentine and to meet him for a date. In an hour!
My head was nodding so much that it might as well be stuck in this position as I agreed to everything Lance said.
The last of his words faded away, but I caught something like ‘ see you there ,’ before he shot me another one of his blinding smiles, turned away, and left.
As soon as I closed my front door, I let out the thrilled giggle I’d had to press down in order not to look like a fool in front of Lance. But behind closed doors? I let out all the excited energy, doing tiny jumps for joy that had my head feeling like it was a rocket that had crashed straight down to Earth.
I groaned, squatted, and covered my head with my hands to hopefully stop it from feeling like it was being tossed around inside a bag.
Being still helped a bit, but my thoughts hadn’t made my headache any less.
I had to meet Lance in an hour, and I couldn’t show up still sweating from alcohol and hungover.
I scrambled to my feet again to find something greasy to eat to help with my hangover. I took some painkillers, then took a shower hot enough to burn the last of my hangover away.
I knew that wasn’t how that worked. The painkiller had probably taken effect, or maybe I was just so excited to go on a date with Lance that it was all my body’s senses were tuning into instead.
Either way, I was humming an upbeat tune as I dressed in my best clothes and practically skipped out the door.
There was still a bit of time until we were supposed to meet up, so I figured I’d head to the store to buy him something sweet to reciprocate the rose and balloon he’d gifted me.
I was going to show him I’d be the best boyfriend ever!