Boyfriend Chronicles 02 - The Boyfriend Mandate (31 page)

And then she turned and crossed the room, abandoning him as she exited and closed the door firmly behind her. Memphis swung his gaze around and stared at the young guys, who were staring back at him expectantly.

Damn.

Tyler stepped close, and the knot of tension in Memphis unraveled a bit. When the cool, calm gaze settled on him, the anxiety eased even further. Usually that expression made Memphis want to do dirty things to him until he cracked. But there was something different about the way Tyler looked at him today, something in his ghost of a smile that centered Memphis like nothing else could.

“Just remember…” Tyler reached out to touch his elbow, his hand warm. “You might be here because you’re Memphis the celebrity,” he said in a low voice, gently squeezing his arm. “But what they really need is Memphis the man.”

Hunh.

What did that mean?

Tyler took several steps to the right, leaning against the wall with his hands in his pockets and an encouraging smile on his face and a―

Fuck me, did Tyler 3.0 just wink at me?

He had, and Memphis couldn’t help it. He grinned.

Feeling calmer, he sent Tyler a
here goes nothing
shrug, focusing on the patients.

“Okay,” Memphis said with what he hoped was enough forced enthusiasm to fool the crowd. “What do you boys want to talk about?”

Silence…

Not a single response. Patrick was slumped in his chair, the oxygen tubing still strapped across his face, poor kid. But none of the four teenagers staring at Memphis seemed happy. The fifth, a redhead, gazed off into the distance, the resentment evident in his posture. Memphis bit back another sigh. He was now stuck in a room with a pack of bitter, hormonal teens.

Finally, proof Fate really did hate him.

Memphis asked, “Does
anyone
want to be here?”

No one moved. After a tense few seconds, one of the boys finally spoke.

“They made us come.” The redheaded teen was obviously sulking. “To
talk
,” he nearly spat out.

“Okay,” Memphis said slowly. At least the boy was willing to answer his question. “What’s your diagnosis?”

The teen scowled, and the kid beside him answered instead.

“Danny’s got cancer of the nuts,” the blond said with a smirk. “He had to have one removed.”

The redhead’s arm shot out and smacked the other’s chest so fast Memphis almost heard the thump before his brain registered the action.

“Whoa,” Memphis said, holding up his hands. “Everybody just needs to chill.”

Danny slumped down farther in his chair, his cheeks red, and Memphis’s heart twitched in sympathy.

“I had testicular cancer, too,” Memphis said.

Five sets of staring eyes, five sets of
so what?
expressions on the teens’ faces. Memphis got the distinct impression they weren’t impressed with his announcement, and the pressured silence that followed was even more uncomfortable than the one before. Maybe that was what drove Memphis to say what he said next. Maybe, after years of hiding the truth, he was ready to come clean—he certainly had nothing left to lose. Or maybe it all began and ended with the look on Danny’s face.

They don’t need Memphis the hero. The need Memphis the man
.

Suddenly, the words clicked. They didn’t want the invincible survivor. They wanted the truth, that there were no answers except one: sometimes the only thing you could do was let yourself fall apart.

Memphis blew out a breath and took the plunge. “I had to have both my nuts removed,” he said, clearly shocking the small group, and then he pushed on before he changed his mind. “I was scared shitless, at first.” A self-deprecating scoff slipped out before he could stop it. “Actually, I bawled like a baby the day they cut out my second nad. And I figured my life was over.”

The pause that followed his confession was strained, and the disbelieving expressions were enough to have Memphis longing to hurl himself out the window, lack of parachute be damned.

Instead, he pulled one of the chairs closer and turned it around, straddling the back as he faced the teens. “But you can’t let what you’ve lost define you. Or what
other
people think define you, like the color of your skin or your sexual orientation,” Memphis said. “Other than being on hormone replacement therapy, I lead a completely normal life.” He studied the still-speechless teens and then answered the one question he knew the kids would
never
ask. “I even have a great sex life.”

He concentrated on the faces before him so his gaze wouldn’t stray toward his ex-boyfriend, the ex-boyfriend he was dying to drag back to bed. To screw him senseless and hold him
close
.

Patrick cast a surreptitious look in Tyler’s direction.

“And one comment about my recent publicity will earn you an epic underwear wedgie,” Memphis said dryly.

Several snickers occurred, but no one appeared inclined to take Memphis up on the challenge. Finally, the blond-headed kid tipped his head and spoke.

“Patrick said you two once blew up a microwave in the hospital,” the teen said. “Can we do that again?”

Surprised by the question, Memphis massaged the back of his head. “How about I get each of you tickets to the premiere of
The Indestructibles
instead?”

The kids
almost
looked impressed. Jesus, what a tough crowd. Terrifying confessions and special invitations weren’t good enough.

“It’ll be a red-carpet event,” Memphis said with a half smile. “Lots of hot actresses in skimpy dresses.”

Memphis was rewarded with a murmur of excitement and pleased expressions, all except for Patrick. But four out of five wasn’t bad, so Memphis finally relaxed. Having spilled his guts about his past and then appealed to their raging hormonal side, he seemed to have been granted favor.

And now he knew just what to talk about.

“So…” Memphis folded his arms across the back of his chair. He’d had to face his overwhelming doubts alone, his doctor avoiding the embarrassing discussions. But no one should be forced to go through their fears without support,
especially
a teen. “Who wants to ask the first question about sex after cancer?”

Four hands shot up. Finally, a subject they could all warm up to, and Memphis grinned. Because this moment?

This was definitely worth remembering.

~~~***~~~

“Sorry for the wait,” Memphis called out, his footsteps muted by the mulch pathway as he approached where Tyler sat in the hospital’s meditation garden.

“No problem.”

When the group meeting had ended, Patrick had pulled Memphis aside for a private chat. For the last twenty minutes, Tyler had been sitting on a bench staring at the reflection pool and contemplating deep thoughts. Deep thoughts like the fact that somewhere in the rows and rows of parked cars, sunshine glinting off the roofs, Memphis’s Jeep waited to take them to their next destination.

Tyler knew exactly where he wanted to go: to the hotel with Memphis.

He also knew the man wouldn’t ask him again, but Tyler didn’t care. Being in love changed everything.

And, seriously, how could he not have seen this coming? The moment he’d walked into the photography studio and Memphis had greeted him with a hug, Tyler’s heart had rolled over and gone belly-up in an act of total submission—which was fitting, really, because Memphis had never done anything other than own Tyler.

His head, as usual, had been stupidly slow to catch on.

Memphis came to a stop by the bench, his expression and attitude…quiet. Tyler missed the barely restrained energy he’d always exuded. Until now.

“What did Patrick want?” Tyler asked.

“To tell me they found him a donor, thank fuck,” he said. “And to tell me he’s gay.”

Tyler lifted a brow. “No wonder he asked to talk to you privately.”

“Yeah,” he said. “He didn’t want to ask his questions in front of the other guys.” He stuck his hands in his back pockets. “You haven’t lived until you’ve discussed dry ejaculations with a seventeen-year-old.”

“I think I can safely say,” Tyler said dryly, “that I can live a satisfyingly full life without the discussion, thank you.”

Memphis’s only response was a small nod of agreement.

Christ, the muted version of the stuntman left Tyler feeling the need to do
something
.

“I was impressed with how you handled yourself today,” Tyler went on.

“Freaking out in a hospital?”

Tyler sent him a level look. “That admission was the bravest thing I’ve ever seen you do.”

Especially when Memphis hadn’t wanted to be there in the first place. Inside the hospital, the tension had radiated from Memphis’s body like a dark aura. Now he definitely seemed more relaxed. Subdued, still, and as beautiful as ever.

Not just on the outside but on the inside, too.

Feeling the need to fill the silence, Tyler stood up and said, “Where are you headed next?”

“To the hotel tonight.” Memphis started up the sidewalk and Tyler fell in step beside him. “Tomorrow morning I drive down to Monterey for the photo shoot. From there, I’ll head back to LA for a production meeting.”

Damn, he was leaving.

Something in Tyler’s heart hitched, and he realized Noah had been right. Tyler had let his fear sabotage his relationships. Which meant he owned most of the blame for the failure to make them work. And he suddenly had the urge to laugh long and hard at himself.

He’d always envied what Dylan and Alec had managed to achieve. Tyler was beginning to believe that he hadn’t done anything to
deserve
that kind of synergy yet.

Which brought him back to the man walking beside him and Tyler’s decision about where to go next. There was a question he needed to ask first, although he suspected he already knew the answer.

“Do you still love her?” Tyler asked.

Memphis cocked his head. “What?”

“Do you still love Julissa?”

As they continued up the walk, Memphis gave Tyler a
what the fuck
look. “I’ll always love her.” A tiny line appeared between Memphis’s eyebrows. “But I haven’t been
in
love with her for a long time.”

The words didn’t come as a surprise. But it had been a hell of a lot easier to worry about an ex-wife than to face the bald-faced truth.

That he loved Memphis Haines, a man who’d declared he wasn’t looking for a relationship.

But, Judas Priest, Tyler was done with the worrying and the what-ifs and the learned paranoia drilled into him ages ago. He couldn’t continue to live his life braced for what
might
come next.

“I want to go back to your hotel.”
And wherever else you happen to be going
, Tyler didn’t add. He stopped on the sidewalk and faced Memphis, stepping forward to close the gap between them. “With you.”

For a full two seconds, Memphis’s expression didn’t change. What followed was a parade of emotions across his face: joy, relief, guilt, lust, and anticipation. Then Memphis let out a low, satisfied rumbling noise and muttered what sounded like
about goddamn time
.

Tyler was still stuck on the conflicting looks of guilt and relief when Memphis leaned in close. The tease in his gaze and his tone had finally—
finally,
thank God—returned.

“You are a toppy bastard, aren’t you?” Memphis murmured.

The ridiculous surge of affection should have been illegal, and Tyler rolled his eyes, very aware the act was filled with fondness and not irritation.

“Why couldn’t you just agree like a normal person?” Tyler asked as they resumed their walk.

This time their pace was a whole lot quicker.

“And miss out on your expression right now?” Memphis said, a dimple popping into view. “Not a chance. Besides,” he went on as he threaded their fingers together, “I think my agreement is a given.”

Tyler’s smile was huge.

Yes, these were definitely new times. Which also meant a new potential for pain. New possibilities for the ultimate bliss.

And all he could think was,
let the fun begin
.

“Are you okay with this?” Memphis asked from behind, his breath warm against Tyler’s temple.

Forehead pressed against the hotel wall, Tyler hesitated, his heart working hard. “What makes you ask that?”

Christ, his response felt monumentally stupid.

“Because the tension in your body is kinda obvious,” Memphis said dryly.

Tyler blinked, Memphis’s naked cock thick and heavy against his hip. The moment they’d entered the hotel room, the man had pinned Tyler face first against the wall. Memphis hadn’t even taken the time to remove all of their clothes—yes, an incredibly hot prelude to great sex. But…

Shirt unbuttoned, naked from the waist down, every time Tyler told himself to relax, it got harder to follow through. His heart pounded on and his body refused to cooperate.

Maybe if he’d had time to mentally prepare. But Memphis’s
toppy bastard
comment had left Tyler with certain assumptions, and he hadn’t bottomed for a partner in years.

Gender roles be damned, being on the receiving end meant being open, vulnerable, and required a certain amount of trust. And after Memphis had left him, Tyler discovered he enjoyed topping just as much, and bottoming had reminded him of their relationship.

Not exactly the memories he’d wanted in another man’s bed.

“Just…give me a second,” Tyler said.

“I’m feeling very generous.” Memphis reached around and cupped his face, skimming his fingers across Tyler’s cheeks and his jaw, his thumb resting along the edge of his mouth. “You can have all night,” he said, and then he turned Tyler’s head for better access and leaned in.

Memphis’s chest felt hot and solid and strong pressed against Tyler’s back. The kiss wasn’t forced, just firm little brushes that slowly increased in length and sparked a thrumming need. Memphis opened wide and slid his tongue inside, and a flare of heart-pounding, skin-tingling want shot straight to Tyler’s groin.

The next kiss included nipping teeth. When Memphis swiped a slippery finger across Tyler’s asshole, the contact lit his body and he arched his back, his gasp lost in the man’s mouth. Over and over again, Memphis stroked the puckered skin, barely there and slicking the sensitive area with lube. The pleasure gave Tyler something to focus on.