Boyfriend Chronicles 02 - The Boyfriend Mandate (9 page)

If the running water didn’t end soon, Tyler was going to have to go check on Memphis and―

Noah entered the room with a tray full of glasses. “Here you go, boys,” he said. In black designer jeans and a slim sweater over a button-down—the epitome of runway-model perfection—he sat on the seat adjacent to Tyler. “Time to try my Vodka Lemon Tea recipe.” He set the beverages down next to the hardback book, smoothing a hand through his dark hair before handing Dylan a drink. “As my oldest friend, you get to go first, handsome.”

“Come on, Noah,” the mechanic said. “You know I’m a beer man.”

“And it’s my responsibility to encourage you to broaden your horizons. Or, more accurately, badger you until you cave.” Noah held out a glass to Tyler. “You, too, Ice Man.”

At the sound of his nickname, Tyler fought the urge to roll his eyes. Through the years, he’d learned that his friend’s presence required patience and preparation. Time with Noah was easier after a tension-relieving, ten-mile jog or a zen-inducing thirty minutes of relaxation techniques. Or drugs, drugs would probably work, too. When those weren’t readily available, alcohol was a definite must. Especially with two exes in the same condo.

Oh, God.

Tyler gratefully took the glass of tea.

Noah went on. “It’s a new recipe I found in―” His gaze caught and held on something just beyond Tyler.

An ominous feeling sparked to life in Tyler’s chest, and he realized he no longer heard the distant sound of the shower.

Sonofabitch
.

“Hello,” Memphis said from somewhere behind him.

From his seat on the couch, Tyler stifled a groan and turned to watch Memphis enter the living room. His golden-brown hair was damp and tousled, and a towel was slung around his neck. Beautiful chest bare, warm-up pants slung low on lean hips, Memphis looked
exactly
like the underwear model he was. A hot spike of lust speared Tyler in the gut. He supposed he should be grateful the guy wasn’t wearing designer briefs. Or naked.

Oh, God, the image…

Three sets of eyes landed on Tyler expectantly, and heat flushed up his back. After months of ignoring Noah’s pleas to speak with the stuntman and Tyler refusing to have anything to do with his ex, clearly he had some explaining to do.

“The stunt didn’t go as planned,” Tyler said.

Great, that sounded so
lame
.

No one spoke, and Tyler shifted in his seat, searching for a comfortable position he knew didn’t exist. Noah looked stunned, Alec looked surprised, and Dylan looked amused.

“How so?” Noah finally asked.

“Memphis sustained a mild concussion.”

With an expression of alarm, Noah shot to his feet. He studied the cut on Memphis’s forehead as if he feared the guy would keel over, either afraid for Memphis’s health or the potential for blood on the thick carpet or worried the stuntman wouldn’t be able to do the Bachelor Bid commercials. Tyler wasn’t sure which.

“Why aren’t you taking him to the hospital?” Noah asked Tyler.

“Because he refuses to go,” he replied, straining to keep the concern and exasperation from his voice.

“So what are you going to do with him tonight?”

“I’m going to take care of him,” Tyler said coolly and then mentally winced.

He probably should have worded that differently.

Pulse thumping in his neck, Tyler took a sip of the tea and refused to appear uncomfortable. He was a doctor, dammit. What was he supposed to do with an injured ex? Ignore him?

His friends’ gazes continued to dig into him.

“I’m just trying to help him out,” Tyler went on.

“Help him out vertically?” Noah swept his gaze up and down Memphis’s naked chest before returning his attention to Tyler. “Or horizontally?” he said as he sent Tyler a knowing look. “And even though I’m your friend, if you two are still arguing about the past, I can’t take sides, because we
really
need him for those commercials. And I swear…” Noah eyed the topic of conversation. “Those dimples are even more adorable in person.”

Memphis huffed out a small laugh. Obviously the shower had made him feel a little better. Tyler’s decision to bring him here was beginning to feel more and more like a bad idea. His ability to pull tonight off with a measure of composure was rapidly slipping, as well.

“Can I have a drink while you guys talk about me as if I’m not here?” Memphis said easily, propping a hip on the back of the couch where Tyler sat.

“You probably shouldn’t have alcohol,” Tyler said. “Not with a concussion.”

“Welcome to my home, hotshot.” Noah handed the stuntman one of the glasses, despite the warning. “I’ll get to you in a moment. By the way, you’re bleeding.” He then held out a napkin, and Memphis used it to stem the flow of sluggish blood on his forehead. Noah sat down again, and his gaze zeroed in on Tyler as he went on. “We have something we need to discuss.”

Tyler forced himself not to grimace. “There’s nothing to discuss.”

His friend cocked an eyebrow in disagreement. “Did you or did you not make me
promise
to remind you never to hook up with one of your exes ever again?”

Jesus H. Christ.

Of all his old boyfriends, Memphis was the
last
one Tyler wanted to hear this conversation.

“I believe those were your very words, right after the last time you and Logan called it quits,” Noah went on. “As usual, you refused to talk about the breakup. Instead, I had to hunt you down at your house and make you the world’s strongest drink to get you to open up, even a little.” He settled deeper into his seat, rambling on and gesturing with his free hand. “And even then, all you did was mumble on about your new Relationship Rule or Boyfriend Mandate or some such nonsense.” He crossed his legs, his eyes steady and his mouth relentless. “You made me promise to remind you.”

“Dude,” Dylan said, staring at Tyler in mild horror. “You made
Noah
promise to say something? Why the hell did you go and do a stupid thing like that?”

Tyler briefly pressed his lids closed and rubbed his eyes, because there was no way to explain without further embarrassment.

The last time he’d called things off with a man, he’d realized he was becoming an expert on ex-boyfriends—his continued friendship with Alec providing a daily reminder at work. And wasn’t that a sad state of affairs? To be better with someone
after
a breakup than you were
during
the relationship?

Tyler cleared his throat. “Obviously, I wasn’t thinking clearly after Noah’s Mojito,” he said to Dylan. “The new rule definitely still stands, but my choice of confidants was off.” He swung his gaze in Noah’s direction. “I didn’t take into consideration who I was talking to.”

End of story. Time to get Memphis’s wound taken care of and―

“A Boyfriend Mandate, huh?” Tea glass clutched in his hand, Memphis addressed Noah with a grin. “I’d like to hear more about Tyler hooking up with his exes.”

No, absolutely not. They were
not
going to have this discussion. Not with the company currently present in this living room.

Tyler stood up, his stomach screwed into a tight knot, and forced a smooth tone. “We should get that cut bandaged.”

“Oh,” Noah said to Memphis as if no one had spoken, “he’s made a fine art out of reuniting with his old boyfriends.”

Tyler refused to lose his cool, striving for a sedate tone. “Let’s go find the first aid kit and―”

“How many times?” the stuntman asked Noah.

The tension in Tyler’s muscles reached a torque of epic proportions. As much as he didn’t want his friend to answer the question, he also realized resistance was futile. He slowly sat back down and braced for what he knew was coming next.

“In the years I’ve known him,” Noah said without missing a beat, “Tyler has seriously dated and broken up with Evan and Anthony twice each. But Logan set a new record with three.”

Memphis turned to look down at Tyler. “
Three times
?”

Tyler clenched his glass, his heart pumping entirely too fast.

Cool, calm waters. Sleeping puppies. Purring kittens. There had to be a mental image he could picture to keep his blood pressure from popping a vessel. With Memphis Haines around, there was little calm to be found.

And suddenly Tyler realized why it had been so important he take care of Memphis. Not
just
because he was obligated professionally. Way back when, he’d practically worshiped the ground the guy had walked on. And proving to Memphis that he’d succeeded, that he’d carved out a life for himself as a respected, successful doctor after being so thoroughly dumped had felt…vital.

Tyler slowly exhaled. All he’d proven so far was that he sucked at relationships.

When he felt more in control, he twisted in his seat to face his ex—specifically, the one currently driving him insane. “Doesn’t your head still hurt?” he asked. “Don’t you want to go lie down?”

Because, damn, Tyler needed to.

“Three times,” Memphis murmured again, shaking his head as if he couldn’t wrap his mind around the idea. “Were you thinking you’d missed something the first two times around?”

Tyler huffed out a breath and chose to take that as a rhetorical question. Logan had been, still was—would probably always be—a great guy. Smart, funny, good-looking. A lot like his two exes in this very room, in fact. And if Tyler always failed with men who were so
terrific
…

Well, then, that felt more like a reflection of Tyler than anyone else.

“Apparently so,” Noah said, answering the rhetorical question for him. “There isn’t a single boyfriend he hasn’t broken up with and then gotten back together with at least once. Well, except for Alec here,” he went on. “He tried, but Alec turned him down.”

Judas Priest.

There was nothing quite like a rejection-story chaser to finish off a round of humiliation.

“And since you’re here, Memphis…” Noah leaned forward and rustled through the stack of newspapers on his coffee table and pulled out the one Tyler had carried to the photo shoot. “This”—Noah tapped the article—“got me thinking,” he said. “Last year we made the Bachelor Bid open to straights and gays. Women bid on the hets and men bid on the homos. Nothing really unique there, especially in our fair city. But we never really addressed the issue of bisexuality.” Noah gave the stuntman a level look. “We didn’t have the option for participating bachelors to be open to both kinds of bidders. So aren’t we just as guilty of discrimination?”

Tyler set his glass on the coffee table, hoping to continue the current topic. “Why do I get the feeling you’re more interested in the publicity angle than taking up the cause for bisexuals everywhere?” he said dryly.

“Of course I’m concerned about the cause,” Noah replied as he leaned back.

Tyler could hardly disagree. Besides the occasionally infuriating mouth, his friend was actually kind and generous to a fault. He’d helped keep the Front Street Clinic’s doors open by dedicating a substantial chunk of his time and quite a bit of his significant wealth to the effort.

“I’m
always
about the cause,” Noah said with emphasis. And then he grinned. “But most especially when it’s convenient.” His smile grew bigger. “So let’s take the issue and have fun with it. We should actively seek out bachelors of all three types.”

“Great idea,” Dylan said. “They can sign up for the Strictly Straight category, the Gloriously Gay category, or the…” He paused, obviously lost in thought.

Thank God. Tyler could have kissed the mechanic for encouraging the current discussion.

“Or the “Sold to the Highest Bidder!” category,” Tyler said.

Noah’s eyes lit up as he laughed. “I love it.” And then an expression washed over his face, the kind that meant he’d just gotten an idea and someone was about to get screwed. “You know,” he said, “we should figure out a way to use the recent publicity in the commercials.”

“
No
,” Tyler said.

Christ, he should have kept his mouth shut earlier. Because wherever this was leading now, he refused to follow along. Noah and commercials and publicity that included Tyler and Memphis…?

“Absolutely not,” he went on at the same time Memphis asked, “How?”

Tyler slowly inhaled, reaching deep for a bland expression as he searched for a way to derail this horrific freight train. To that end, he turned to the only reliable ally he had in the room.

“Why did you and Dylan decide on a group dinner out tonight?” Tyler asked Alec.

And, Christ, could they please drag Noah out the door now?

“To share the good news,” Alec said.

His words caught the attention of everyone in the room. And the look on Alec’s face was one of sympathy and understanding. Tyler sent his business partner/ex-boyfriend a tiny
thank you
smile and received a return grin of
you’re welcome.
Unfortunately, their silent communication didn’t go unnoticed by Dylan.

Tyler smothered a groan.

As predicted, the tension returned to Dylan’s posture, and the slight frown he sent was aimed directly at Tyler. The mechanic excelled at the
keep this up and I’ll kick your ass
look, too. Just like that, their uneasiness returned, and this time it felt more than low-grade.

Damn.

“What’s the news?” Tyler asked, hoping his business partner sensed his desperation.

“Eight months ago, Dylan and I found a surrogate,” Alec said.

And then the man grinned and tucked his hair behind his ears, obviously pleased with the new topic while Dylan appeared…actually, Tyler couldn’t read the expression on his face.

“We didn’t want to say anything until things were stable,” Alec said, his smile growing bigger, “but the news gets even better.”

This time, the look in Dylan’s eyes was easy to read: fear.

Well…
that
couldn’t be good. But Tyler didn’t have time to ponder the concerning development.

“In three months,” Alec went on, “we’ll be bringing home a baby.”

Three months?

A baby.

In three months.

Tyler blinked, adjusting to the news as everyone else began to talk at once. He’d never pictured his future including children, had no desire to be a father, really. Any kids he had would have to be given up by their mother, and that was a situation he didn’t want to be a part of. He
had
pictured forever with most of his exes, though.