I held still while he took my measurements. By now, with dozens of Alec-made garments in my wardrobe, I knew the drill.
The whole time, my thoughts raced.
What does he think of me? That I’m dating someone too old for me? Or that Tom should be with someone his own age? I hope he doesn’t judge Tom. It’s me chasing him…
Only once Alec was done scribbling numbers was I allowed to sit down again. And so did he, sitting opposite me on an overstuffed couch.
Alec folded his hands seriously and leaned in. “I’m not going to tell you what to do, Rusty.”
“Huh?”
“I saw that face,” Alec said with a smile. “Your shoulders were up by your ears. I’m not judging you. Tom’s cute—I can see what you see in him.”
I let out a sigh of relief, but as I opened my mouth to speak, Alec sprang to his feet, took out the tape measure, and stepped behind me to measure something yet again.
“Hey!” I protested and laughed. “Were you just trying to get me to relax?”
Alec clapped both of my shoulders and sat down again. He deliberately took his time as he pulled out his notepad, crossed out a number, and writing another. Then he looked up at last. “No,” he said with a cheeky grin.
“Fuck off,” I grumbled, but I grinned. “But thanks, I guess.”
“For the impeccable brotherly advice? You have to give me a chance to dispense the advice first,” Alec said. “So talk.”
Truth be told, I did want to talk to him. Mom’s advice this weekend had given me courage, but now I was doubting myself.
“He’s new to the gay world, like I said,” I told him, settling back as he did, too. “What if he dates me until he gets the hang of things, and then finds someone more… grown-up?”
Alec raised his eyebrows again, giving me a disbelieving look. “You really think that?”
“I don’t know.” I fiddled with my hair. “In a way, I have more experience, but in a way, so does he. He stayed married to his ex-wife to raise Beth. I can’t even imagine getting married.”
Well, no. That wasn’t quite true. Until I’d met him, I couldn’t imagine it. I’d always been afraid of what would happen if I tied myself down to a guy who didn’t feel the same desire to commit and make it work for a lifetime.
But Tom had talked a little bit about being married to Chrissy, and how proud he was of Beth. He’d made spending a life together with someone sound so straightforward, so easy. I wanted to let myself believe that it was that easy.
“So?” Alec shrugged. “You like each other, right? Stop worrying about marriage, dude. You’re psyching yourself out, in case he leaves you.”
My cheeks burned. I opened my mouth and shut it again without saying a word.
How the hell did he know?
“I’m your brother,” Alec said with a smile and leaned forward to punch my arm. “It’s my job to cut through the bullshit. And I can tell you it’s bullshit, because who else will?”
I nodded slowly as the embarrassment faded. “You think it could work?”
“I think I’ve seen enough couples about to get married to know a thing or two,” Alec said, serious at last. “The marriages that look perfectly matched are sometimes the rockiest. And the ones that look like they shouldn’t work?”
“Are the best,” I finished in a murmur. Yeah, he was right.
“Give him a chance this week,” Alec said with a warm smile. “I’ll make a jacket for you that will match Tom’s outfit perfectly. If you wear it or not, that’s up to you. But I hope you do.”
Heat prickled my eyes, and I stood up to hug Alec. “I hope so, too,” I murmured. “I really like him, Alec.”
“I can tell. You’re flustered,” Alec told me with a chuckle and hugged me tightly, then patted my back. “But you know what you’re doing. And so does he. Let your heart do the talking. Or your bodies.” He winked. “In the dancing sense, or otherwise. No judgement. So, have you?”
I groaned and shoved his chest. “I have to go to class now.”
“Running away before you share the gossip.” Alec pretended to be sorrowful. “How stingy.”
“Tell you what—if I end up wearing that jacket, I’ll pay you back with plenty of gossip,” I promised him, grinning. Since he was now the only brother not going to the wedding, no doubt he’d want to hear it all.
He stuck out a hand. “It’s a deal.”
When I grabbed it, he smacked my stomach and I squeaked in breathless protest.
Alec just smirked. He was still my big brother—and being a dick seemed to be part of the deal. Thank goodness Stacey put up with him.
“Bye, asshole,” I told him, laughing as I took off for class with a smile on my face.
No more talking myself out of it. If Tom was all-in… so was I. The best-case scenario was so worth it. And what was the worst that could happen?
Chapter Seven
Enough red flags to make a drag queen’s dress.
Tom, day 3
“I’m heading out for lunch.” I tapped the door frame of Paul’s office and stuck my head inside.
My boss was leaning back in his chair, a coffee cup in one hand and a pencil in the other. As usual, he was in a rumpled green shirt and khakis, which were the closest he got to office wear.
Paul waved at me distractedly. “Take your time,” he muttered. He had time sheets spread across his desk, which meant he didn’t want to be interrupted.
So all I said was, “Thanks, man.”
Paul was always easygoing about me taking off as long as I did my work the rest of the week. And I always did; I was one of the best network managers they had. Not just because I was the only network manager, either.
I’d worked there since Beth was a toddler. Everyone knew she was getting married this weekend, and they’d tried to give me the week off.
Originally, I’d said no because I wanted something to keep me distracted. No point in sitting around worrying. But now I was starting to wonder if I should take some vacation days after all.
I hadn’t bargained on meeting a guy this week, too.
Glad that nobody questioned me on where I was going, I hurried out to take advantage of my lunch hour the best way I knew how: by meeting Rusty at a chic little make-your-own-salad restaurant nearby.
I’d never been there. I favored fried chicken and burgers on my breaks from staring at subnet masks and mapping networks. But the reviews of Bowled Over online were good, and I figured it fit Rusty’s lifestyle.
My hands trembled a little with excitement, and I white-knuckled the wheel. Alone in the car, I could let go of trying to look like I could focus on work. For the whole drive to the restaurant, I daydreamed about Rusty’s smile.
Five minutes later I parked outside the trendy, black metal-and-glass front of the restaurant. Rusty was standing outside, shuffling from foot to foot, his hands tucked into his pockets. My heart leaped into my throat and I was glad I’d parked before spotting him. A fender-bender from staring at him would be embarrassing.
Rusty looked adorable even here in the dusty parking lot, shading his eyes from the sun as it caught strands of his hair, turning them a deep cherry-red.