Chapter 2
JOHN
“Fucking hell,” I mutter after I hang up the phone again. “They’re full too.”
Everything’s booked for the weekend—the small hotel, the motel coming into town, the options in Huntsville, the bigger town thirty minutes out where most people stay when they visit Liam’s farm.
I even tried the Lewis family, who sometimes rent their house on one of those apps, but they’re in town for the wedding, so no luck there either.
“How did you not think to book a hotel for your best friend’s wedding?
” I demand. Chad is smiling innocently at me from his stool at my counter, one of the only pieces of furniture even in the house at this point, while I lean against the counter on the opposite side of my kitchen, trying to think of somewhere, anywhere Chad can stay that isn’t this house.
“Because, my husband”—he emphasizes the word as if I haven’t heard him refer to me in that ridiculous way enough times today—“lives down the road. We talked about me moving here when we got married, but I just haven’t had the time to wrap up everything that I needed to in the city until now. Why in the world would I get a hotel?”
His blue eyes are wide as he blinks up at me, as if he truly can’t comprehend the fact that we aren’t really husbands but two acquaintances who made a drunk decision. I attempt a steadying breath so I don’t say anything I’ll regret later.
As frustrating as Chad’s surprise visit is, he doesn’t actually deserve my anger.
I know he means well, and if he is still hung up on the idea that he really does like me, I need to let him down gently.
“Chad. You can’t move in here. We barely know each other.
Despite what some piece of paper you have says, we aren’t together. ”
“Not just together, John. Married. Legally. What’s mine is yours, and what’s yours is mine. So this is my house too! I can’t wait for us to make it our own.”
My gut twists at that. This is absolutely not his house. I still feel weird claiming it as mine. But I know now isn’t the time to get into that with him. He sounds so fucking excited as if this is some rom-com movie and we’re about to shack up and play happy husbands.
Before I can wrap my head around how to respond to tell him how wrong he is, Chad continues. “I know I’m not as handy as you are; you’re an electrician, right? But I think I’ll be a quick learner, and I can help! I quit my job so I’ll have plenty of time to do whatever you need.”
“You quit your job?” I blurt out. I know I need to address everything he’s said, like the fact that we don’t even know each other’s professions, but quitting seems extreme, even for him.
Chad only shrugs. “It’s not a big deal. I was just working for my family’s company, and my parents are thrilled that I’ve decided to chase my dreams out in the country.
That’s what I told them since you asked me not to mention the marriage.
Although I did tell them I met someone out here and wanted to move because things were serious with him.
It’s not like I could work in the city and live out here. ”
He said all of that so quickly and casually, but… “You told your family you’re seriously involved with a man?”
His smile somehow grows as he nods. “They’re all so happy for me. I didn’t give any names—I never want to break my promises to you—and I told them you’re pretty shy, so they’ll have to wait until you’re ready to meet them, but they’re thrilled.”
“You came out, just like that? Have you ever even been with a man?” My stomach sours as I ask the question, and I refuse to acknowledge why the idea of Chad with another guy is so unappealing to me.
He can do whatever he wants with whoever he wants, just like I can. We don’t owe each other anything.
Sure, I’m basically a hermit and haven’t hooked up with anyone since before Vegas, but that doesn’t mean anything. I’ve been busy; it has absolutely nothing to do with him.
“No, of course not. I’m with you,” he answers simply. “We might not have had sex yet, but there’s no denying our chemistry on our wedding night. I’ve never shared a kiss like that with anyone before.”
Yeah, the kiss was great. But that doesn’t mean anything.
Honestly, he’s just as stubborn as I am…
except he’s pushing for some fairy-tale version of the events to be true.
Nothing has changed in the two months since Vegas.
I still know I could never live up to whatever fantasy version of me he has in his head.
I also know all I can offer anyone is sex, but I can’t even go there with Chad.
I doubt he’d understand the typical arrangements I have, and there’s no way either of us would come out unscathed.
“Chad. We were drunk. I’m sure you’re romanticizing what happened between us because your best friend is getting married, and it sounds like you’ve been in wedding planning mode with him.
But we aren’t together. I have no desire to be married to anyone.
And you can’t move in with me! For Christ’s sake, look around.
” I hold my arms out wide for emphasis like he isn’t aware of the state of the room he’s in.
“This isn’t even really a home; it’s a construction zone. ”
“I don’t mind the mess,” he assures me, but I know there’s no way this spoiled princess of a man is going to really be able to live like this.
His haircut probably cost more than any of my furniture, I can’t imagine him covering up his perfectly styled brown hair with a hard hat.
Yet he looks as happy as ever as he continues.
“But I think living together will be really good for us. What we need to get back to what we had in Vegas. I’ve missed you, John. I’ve thought about you every day.”
I groan, rubbing my hands over my face. Seriously, what do I need to say to get him to understand we wouldn’t work?
“John, you said it yourself. There’s nowhere else for me to even go this weekend. We’re both in the wedding, I’m sure after we spend time together this week, you’ll remember how much fun we have, and you’ll be just as excited as I am about living together!”
I am confident that won’t happen.
I stare blankly at his stupidly perfect smile, which is almost too white, as I desperately try to come up with an alternative for this week.
Liam was just telling me the other day how happy he is that his dad’s childhood friend was going to come for the wedding weekend and stay with his dad, so Wyatt’s spare room is booked.
Liam and Blake don’t have any extra room, and even if they did, it’s their fucking wedding. Liam shouldn’t have to deal with Chad all week any more than he has to… especially because Blake and Chad are weirdly close.
I mean, seriously, who doesn’t question their “straight” friend suddenly asking them detailed questions about gay sex? Blake apparently. And what did Chad mean about examples? Did he actually show him anything? No. He wouldn’t break Liam’s trust like that, there’s no way.
I shake my head, attempting to clear that thought.
Chad and Blake might not have any boundaries—honestly, I’m still not convinced that Chad isn’t actually in love with Blake and isn’t throwing himself at me to cover up those feelings—but I would love for Liam and me to maintain as many boundaries as we can, like normal adults.
I don’t need to know about his sex life, just like he doesn’t need to know anything about mine.
“I don’t even have a guest bed,” I weakly point out, though I know what his answer will be before he confirms it.
“I don’t need a guest bed, Hubby. I’ll sleep with you in your bed, duh.”
Yup. Not sure why I even bothered saying that.
I press my fingers into my temples, anticipating the headache I’m positive I’ll have for the next week.
I don’t know what it is about this man, because I usually have no problem saying no to people, but something about his endless optimism makes it so difficult to completely shut him down.
Maybe it’s his big blue eyes that remind me of a puppy, or fuck, maybe it’s how he manages to still look so attractive in that stupid shirt with his muscles stretching the thin fabric in an almost obscene way, but I know I can’t throw him out.
He’s far too spoiled to sleep in his car, and I don’t even believe he’d actually go, so fighting him is a waste of my time and energy.
“Uuuugh.” I throw my head back, knocking my bun into the cabinet behind me, and squeeze my eyes shut, savoring the final few moments before I officially give in.
“Fine. You can stay until after the wedding.” I stand up straight to glare at him.
“But you leave on Sunday, Chad. I mean it. You are not moving in here. We are not a couple. All of your shit, including the stuff from that chapel, stays in your car. You can bring in what you need to get you through the week. But that’s it, Princess, necessities only. ”
He’s beaming at me as if I’m not practically yelling at him. How does he always look so goddamn happy?
“Whatever you say, Hubby! I’ll go grab some things from my car and you can show me our room.”
He jumps from his chair and is halfway to the door before I can call out, “My room.” Not that I think he’ll acknowledge the distinction.
I’m already regretting giving in to him.
Again.
Fuck.