4. Declan
Declan
BEVERLY HILLS
Another Christmas Eve, another Moore Christmas Eve party.
Every year, my parents flooded the house with their friends to show off their lives.
Not that they didn’t have a life worth showing off, but when I asked why they had it year after year, they said gathering everyone together was their way of celebrating friendship.
But I couldn’t help but be a little cynical as I put on the suit my mom had rented for me to wear.
After all, everything had to be perfect. Including me.
And while I looked damn good in it - stopping to check my freshly waxed eyebrows in the mirror - I much rather would’ve been in gray sweats and a tank top. She didn’t have a problem with my tattoos, but—I could hear her voice in my head—you don’t have to advertise them, do you?
Despite my objection to this much fabric, I knew my parents loved this time of year, and I wasn’t about to let them down. Even if Ian was going to be here with his parents in tow. They attended every year. After all, they were my parents’ closest friends, and Ian was mine.
Except he wasn’t.
Everyone just thought that, and Ian and I had pretended since junior year of college, for Ian’s sake really.
Well, Ian pretended for Ian’s sake.
I pretended for my parents.
Ian was actually my ex-boyfriend, though he had called it ‘a little fun’.
It turned out the fastest way to ruin a friendship was to fall in love with that friend, and then have that friend turn out to be a coward and not be able to admit publicly he committed sexual acts with, and possibly had romantic feelings for, a man.
He wrote me off as an experiment. And it was after I had already said the words.
“I love you.”
Won’t fucking say that again.
But the reason I kept up our charade was because, to my parents, their friends were their family - since our actual nuclear family was just the three of us.
My parents were both only children and I was their only child.
My dad’s mother passed away when I was three and he never knew his father.
My mother’s parents died in a freak train accident when I was in high school.
Even before the settlement from the train derailment, my parents were already wealthy, so I had never wanted for anything.
But I was self-motivated and tried to be self-sufficient as soon as I graduated.
I wanted to prove that I could take care of myself.
Earning a full ride to UCLA certainly helped, and now that I was an Olympic gold medalist, the doors were all there for me to open.
I just had to figure out which ones to try.
But that would come later. I had a Christmas party to half-enjoy.
I traced the pattern in the carved wooden handrail as I descended the staircase in the foyer.
It was already full of people I didn’t know.
Apparently, I had taken longer to get ready than I thought.
At six foot three, I towered above the crowd.
I wasn’t sure if it was the height or my looks that got people’s attention, but I did my best to smile and shake hands with everyone that greeted me, though I recognized only a few.
It was hard to tell the difference between the people that worked at the hospital with my dad, and my mom’s modeling industry contacts.
This was California. Everyone looked good.
I’ll admit, it was possible I was recognized from the Olympics. After ESPN featured me on the cover of their Athlete of the Year issue, random strangers came up to me a lot more in public. I could still get away with a baseball hat and sunglasses though. I wasn’t Hollywood famous.
“There you are, Declan.”
“Here I am, Mom.”
She pulled at my sleeves, an attempt to straighten them no doubt, and brushed what I was sure was something imaginary off the front. I drew the line when she went to straighten my tie.
“Mom, stop it. I’m good.”
“Alright, alright.” She changed topics. “Did you say hi to Ian yet? He brought his new girlfriend.”
Of course he did.
“Oh, that’s great. I haven’t seen him yet.”
“I wish you had brought a nice boy home for the holidays. Ian seems so happy.”
“I told you already. I don’t have time. I’m less than thirty points from breaking the world record. That’s my focus for the immediate future.”
That was kind of a lie, because my dick was just fine with the assortment of holes it had been offered lately. Not that I was a slut, but since I don’t fuck during comp season, I had taken the opportunity to sow my seed amongst the local, younger-than-me twunk population.
I didn’t have to try very hard either. Every time I went to the clubs, I felt like the spectator at a Mardi Gras parade, and the dudes were the beads. I didn’t go wild or anything. Just enough to satisfy the itch.
“How’s my favorite son?”
I turned toward the familiar voice. “Never gets old, Dad.”
He pulled me in for a hug. “Lookin’ sharp.”
I could easily see I inherited my looks from both of them. My dad was a pediatric surgeon now, but had been a runner in college, like me, and my mom was a retired model.
“Looks like a great party. As always.”
“Oh, you say that every year, honey.”
“Well, Mom, it’s true every year.”
I needed a drink.
“I’m going to get something to eat.”
“Remember, we have dinner tomorrow with the Campbells!”
“I’ll be there.”
I still couldn’t believe I had ever been in love with Ian.
His parents, the aforementioned Campbells, were about as exciting as the soup I always thought of when I heard their name.
I wasn’t quite sure how two people so boring created someone as fun and outgoing as Ian used to be.
Who he was now made more sense if you spent any time with them.
I was curious what woman would be able to tolerate that version of Ian.
I was unable to get that drunk before bumping into him. I should’ve seen him in the crowd. He was, unfortunately, still bangable. But he had changed his hair, and it had been long enough that I hadn’t recognized the ass I was checking out as the one I had fucked years before.
“Declan! Merry Christmas, dude!”
I let him pull me into a half hug, reluctantly. He had more riding on our pretense than I did, so he always tried harder than me.
“This is my girlfriend, Hailey.”
I held my hand out, but she ignored it and practically jumped me with a hug. I couldn’t do anything but catch her and try not to look annoyed with her familiarity.
“I can’t believe I’m finally meeting the Declan.”
“The Declan?”
“Ian’s told me so much about you. He said you guys were practically like twins, though he’s obviously white.”
Obviously. Gotta love casual racism.
“I don’t know about twins, bae.”
Maybe if he gained thirty pounds of muscle and five inches in length.
I couldn’t focus on all the words that came out of her mouth.
There were too many, but I did catch something about dinner tomorrow, so I smiled then rubbed my stomach, miming my hunger.
Luckily, she took the hint and stopped talking.
Ian nodded, said they’d catch me later, and I made my escape.
After grabbing a plate of food and a bottle of water, I was able to find a quiet corner to eat.
And check my texts.
I inwardly cursed myself. I promised myself I’d stop looking.
After all, it had been over five months since I had given Tyler Hale my number…
and nothing. I was shocked, to be honest. The chemistry I felt between us at the pool practically burned my shorts off.
I had thought he felt the same way. If I closed my eyes, I could still see the bulge in those purple trunks.
I spilled buttloads of semen since, thinking about that swimsuit.
At the time, I had wanted to see what was under that lycra so bad, but I reigned in my hormones to focus on the reason I was there. And it had paid off.
But I couldn’t get him out of my head. No matter how many guys I’d fucked since then. The dude was like five-ten tops and I outweighed him by at least thirty pounds, but he caught then lifted me like I was a Disney princess. I wanted to fuck him so bad.
Honestly, his strength had impressed me and I wanted to see what he could do in the bedroom with that kind of muscle. Also…
Gymnasts.
Were.
Flexible.
Thankfully my plate was covering my lap at the moment. I could feel my hard dick pressing against my briefs. I really needed to forget him.
Fuck. This is why you need a friend.
I had friends, but after the Ian Experience, I hadn’t let myself get that close to anyone. And it was a moment like this that I regretted that fact because that person would probably tell me to put my phone away. To not open Instagram. To not click on Tyler Hale’s account. And to not message him.
Declan: Hey, Tyler. Hope you’re enjoying the holidays. Merry Christmas!
Jesus fuck, why did I just do that? I wiped my brow with my fingers, and looked around to see if anyone had noticed my utter lack of self-control. Because this is it. If he doesn’t reply now, you’ll know. I stared at the message, willing it to be seen. Come on, come on, come on.
“Here you are, honey. What are you doing, sitting in the corner on your phone?”
I looked up, slipping my phone in my pocket, to see my mom with a pale, fidgety twink beside her.
You’d think she’d know by now that the hunt was half the fun for me.
She couldn’t just drop a guy in my lap and expect me to hit it off.
I had to admit that he was cute, but he didn’t exude confidence.
It looked like he thought I was going to eat him.
And on any other night, I might have, and then split him in half.
But I also knew my mom probably had three others lined up if I didn’t entertain this one, so I planned on humoring her.
“This is Freddie. He works at the hospital with your father.”
I nodded politely, then had to hide my laugh as she nudged him forward.
I felt like I was a Greek god watching the villagers lead a virgin sacrifice to the cliffs.
I might’ve considered giving him a load, but Ian’s girl had already pissed me off and then my sad-ass message to Tyler tore me up a little.
I wasn’t looking to take someone to pound town tonight.
It didn’t look like Freddie would survive the ride.
Freddie, once he got over whatever hangup he had, wasn’t so bad. We had similar taste in music, both enjoyed Italian food, and had a crush on Taylor Kitsch. But I flat out told him I didn’t really date, and I wasn’t going to fuck him and leave him on Christmas Eve.
I didn’t think I had ever seen that shade of red on a face before. His stuttering after what I said was adorable, trying to say something about how he certainly hadn’t thought that was going to happen.
A quick glance at his gray dress pants told me otherwise.
There was something about him, other than the dick print, that made me smile.
For once, my mother, or more likely my father, had found someone I clicked with.
It had been so long I didn’t really know what to do.
I had friends, but I always hung out with them as a group.
I didn’t do the one on one thing at all, and my coach didn’t count.
It was always the group goes to the movies, or the group goes to the gym.
It took an awkward guy fumbling with a napkin in front of me to realize I didn’t really have a best friend.
Ugh. That’s sad.
“I still can’t believe I did this. I don’t really know how to say it, Declan…”
Uh-oh.
“...and don’t get me wrong, you’re completely gorgeous, but I’m straight.”
“Excuse me?”
“Yeah. I…please don’t tell your father, but for some reason he thinks I’m gay.
I am really trying hard to get this fellowship under him, and I didn’t want to correct him.
When he mentioned he wanted to introduce me to his son, I thought it would be a good way to get on his good side.
” He looked over at me, waiting for my response as if I were going to be angry.
The laugh that flew out of my mouth made several heads turn towards us. I pulled him toward the hallway so we’d have a little more privacy. “How far were you gonna let this go?”
He managed to smile, while he shrugged. “I dunno. I definitely wasn’t planning on seeing your penis. I think after a few inches, I would’ve asked you to stop.”
“Oh fuckin’ A, you’re a little freak, Freddie. And now I know you’re straight. Penis. Oh my god, this is hilarious. I feel so used! Wait…you said you had a crush on Taylor Kitsch too.”
“I do have a crush on her. I thought that meant you were bi or something.”
“Taylor Kitsch is an actor from Friday Night Lights. Long, blond hair, gorgeous bubble butt. I’m guessing he has an amazing dick.”
“Well, I was talking about Taylor Kiche, the female supermodel.”
“Okay, that explains a little.” My brain was trying to catch up. “Why’d you pop a chub after I said I wasn’t going to fuck you tonight.”
“I’ve been soft this entire conversation.”
“Oh.” Oooh, that means… “I guess you’re packin’ then. Shit, dude. You’re a hung freak.”
His blush came back.
“If it helps, we can pretend to date if you want,” I said, without thinking.
“Really? You’d do that for me?”
“Why not? You seem like a cool guy, and maybe I need a friend right now.”
“I seriously doubt that. What do you even get out of this? Why would you help me?”
“If my mom thinks we’re dating, she won’t try to set me up with anyone else.”
He seemed to consider that for a moment. “So…we’re friends?” Freddie asked.
“I’m game if you are.”
Freddie shrugged. “I guess I can give it a try.”
“Wow, I like your optimism already.”