Chapter 3
Fifteen years ago
London
Ash Riley
“To five amazing years together, love!”
“To five amazing years,” I echoed and kissed his neck.
My fucking God, we’d needed this vacation.
This break. Our first big trip together too, to celebrate a fantastic anniversary, which happened to fall during London Pride.
We were surrounded by rainbows and cheers, the sun was shining down on us, not a single cloud in the sky, and the parade was full of life and hope.
I hugged Nate tightly from behind as we watched another glamorous float roll by.
We clung to that hope. We were getting closer back home too, but for every two steps forward, we suffered a setback.
We just had to focus on the positives. Someone would choose us eventually.
My mother had warned me from the very beginning.
The odds were stacked against us, and it could take decades.
The one upside was that the legislative changes were finally picking up the pace.
We’d been hearing sunshine stories since the ’90s, and it was only a matter of time.
More and more lately, I was even hearing talk about legalizing same-sex marriage across the country, which was another goal.
Nate and I had tied the knot in the most low-key way possible last year.
We’d vowed in front of our parents and a clerk that we’d forget that day as soon as we weren’t treated like second-class citizens.
It was a piece of paper for adoption purposes.
A piece of paper that held very little validity outside the state.
But we’d done it as a compromise to make things easier in our fight, and we would replace the day with a more significant one the moment the law became federal.
When we could get married like anybody else.
We didn’t even wear rings. We were too resentful. Marriage was supposed to be a union of love, not tax breaks and benefits. Or proof of being worthy of parenthood.
But hey. The conversation about legalizing marriage for us had started. That was the first step. Talking about it. Getting people used to the idea, as Nate had taught me.
I squeezed him tighter to me and buried my face against his neck.
What the fuck would I do without him?
“You know I love a good Pride parade, but is this over soon?” he asked. “I’m fucking starving.”
I rumbled a laugh and kissed his neck once more. “Let’s go eat. It ain’t our last parade.”
“Thank God.” He flashed me a sexy grin and threaded our fingers together. “You wanna go back to that American steakhouse?”
“Yeah, I don’t even care. Take me back. Their ribs were solid.” In our defense, we’d had plenty of fish and chips since we’d arrived four days ago.
We maneuvered our way out of the Pride crowd, and Nathan handed our little rainbow flags to a couple passing by with two strollers.
One day.
“What’s next on our sight-seeing list?” he asked.
“Buckingham Palace, I think,” I replied. “And first thing tomorrow morning, the Tower.”
“I can’t wait. I love that there’s so much history. The whole city is like walking in a museum.”
It definitely was.
About fifteen minutes later, we arrived at the steakhouse where we’d had dinner last night, and I didn’t care if I looked like an ungrateful American tourist. I wanted ribs and wings, and I wasn’t gonna apologize for it.
We were shown to a nice corner booth close to the AC, which they weren’t generous with in this country, and then came the dreaded question when we ordered our drinks. I automatically said Coke, when I remembered…
“Is Pepsi all right?”
Can I pay with toilet paper?
Nate had, over the years, betrayed me by slowly coming to enjoy Pepsi—so he was as happy today as he’d been yesterday. Meanwhile, I ordered a ginger ale. They were forced to carry that in an American restaurant.
“And an ice water, thanks,” I added. “None of that sparkling shit. Plain ice water.”
We were soon left alone with our menus, and I let out a breath. We’d come here at the perfect time. The lunch rush was long since over, but it was too early for dinner.
“Oh—one more thing,” I said, as I recalled it. “You were gonna make up your mind about tonight. If we’re going to that kinky gay club or not.”
He frowned at his menu. “I forgot about that.”
I was good either way. Obviously, I would prefer not to go, but I didn’t hate those events anymore.
On the contrary, shit had gotten a lot easier once Nathan and I had started making real friends in Boston.
We’d come to realize how easy and fun it could be to play with others when you knew them.
Not that we ventured very far. We kept things nonsexual, but it was okay to care for the subs.
It was okay to give a damn. It was okay to form attachments in a platonic way.
If anything, it was liberating to discover how wholeheartedly Nate and I trusted each other, because we always put each other first.
How we’d react to the next step was anyone’s guess, though. We’d officially begun talking about a threesome.
“We don’t have to go, baby,” I reminded him. “It’s not like anything’s gonna happen in fuckin’ London. We don’t know anybody here.”
“True enough.”
So we were staying in? I wouldn’t turn down room service and cracking open one of the cookie tins we’d bought for my mom. She’d requested English cookies from some fancy brand and preserves.
“What’re you ordering?” he asked.
I hummed. “I’m torn between the wings with fries and the ribs with hush puppies.”
“We could split one of each.”
Fucking A. “This is why I love you. Perfect.” I closed my menu and put it next to my utensils.
“Is that the only reason?”
I met his smirk and rested my arms on the table.
He mirrored my position but shifted closer. He was so goddamn gorgeous. But sometimes, I missed his glasses. He mostly wore contacts these days.
“Come on. Stroke my ego for our anniversary.”
I grinned and stole a quick kiss. “I think we all know it’s your ass.”
He shook his head in amusement and dropped his forehead to my shoulder.
I kissed the side of his head. “It helps that you’re the love of my life,” I murmured. “And my best friend. Occasionally, the voice of reason.”
At that, he had to look up. Sexy. “Occasionally.” He kissed me. “I feel the same way. In fact…” Whoa, boy. He slipped a hand between my thighs under the table. “I think I’d like to spend the night showing you just how much I love you.”
I was ready to flirt his pants off right then and there, but I could see our server returning with our drinks. So I gave his jaw a quick nip before I eased off and plastered a polite smile on my face.
Nate ordered our food while I guzzled some good ole…Canadian ginger ale.
We should hit up a grocery store on the way back to our hotel.
Good snacks, cold drinks…then some pay-per-view porn with my man, for the special occasion.
I’d checked the selection already. They had a couple gay flicks for us, and I could picture Nathan getting lost in the rain and ending up spending the night in a barn, where I, the cowboy, was taking shelter from the storm already.
“When did we become such homebodies?”
“Yeehaw?”
“What?”
Wait, what? “Are we homebodies?” I questioned.
“What was the yeehaw for?”
“Never mind that. How are we homebodies? We’re in another country.”
“I know, but…” He grew frustrated. “All I can think about is going back to the hotel and spending the night in and out of our fluffy robes.”
Oh, he was thinking about more than that. He was thinking about the jets in our tub. We knew they reached places.
“You wanna have sex in the tub again,” I said.
“Of-fucking-course I do. We need to buy a hot tub one day.”
I grinned. “God, I fucking love you.”
He huffed a chuckle. “I love you too, but please focus. I think we need to…” He blew out a breath, determination settling in.
That could be dangerous. “Here’s what we’re going to do.
Once we’ve eaten, we’ll find a gay bar. We’ll have one beer before we go back to the hotel—so we can at least tell our friends something when they ask about the gay pub scene. ”
Urgh. If he had to be all reasonable about it…
“Technically, we went to a gay bar the day we got here,” I pointed out.
He gave me a flat look. “It was Dyke Night, and we turned around at the door.”
Still counts.
In other words, it was Nathan’s fault we headed to a gay bar when we returned to SoHo.
We could be on our way up to our room right about now, but nooo, he had to come in here and be social. Thank fuck, the dark place was fairly dead. A couple of hungry twinks stood at the bar with some other guy, and three of the maybe twenty tables were occupied.
This was going to be easy.
“Maybe we should go someplace els—”
“No, no, let’s grab our beer, sweet cheeks.” I steered him toward the bar. “Welcome to the London gay scene.”
He scoffed and threw me a look. “Our hotel is one block away. We heard the collective moan-screaming from four clubs last night.”
Oh, whatever.
We walked up to the bar, and I ordered us two lagers—
“Fuck, there you are. My countrymen!”
I cocked a brow at the guy sandwiched between the twinks as he slid off his stool.
“Sorry, boys. My buddies are here now. Go fish somewhere else.” The guy grabbed his beer and made his way over to Nate and me, much to the disappointment of said twinks. “I’ll buy youse all the beer you want if you play along,” he told us quietly. “They can’t fuckin’ take a hint.”
Say no more. I’d been there. I clapped him on the back. “Sorry we’re late, man.”
Relief flashed in his eyes, and he turned to the bartender. “Please put their beer on my tab.”
“That’s unnecessary,” Nate protested.
The guy waved it off. “Trust, you’re doin’ me a favor. And it really is nice to see some fellow Americans here. I need fuckin’ subtitles to understand some of their accents here.”
I laughed, liking the guy already. He felt like home. He was clearly a New Yorker, and if I were to venture a guess, he was military too.
“I’m Ash. Good to meet you.”