Page 1 of The Boyfriend Boycott
CHAPTER 1
GRADY
“What are you doing in there,”Hudson shouts, “taking the shit of the century?”
“Jesus, Hudson,” I answer. “No, I’m almost done.” I’ve been in the bathroom for so long that my brother has resorted to pounding on the door.
Maybe it would be easier to tell him that I’m taking a shit. Then he wouldn’t question why I’ve been meticulously grooming my short, chestnut beard, making sure there isn’t a hair out of place. Usually, I spend a total of five minutes getting ready, not the half an hour I’ve already spent tonight, but something about this barbecue has me feeling antsy, jittery even.
I give myself a quick once over in the mirror, but something doesn’t feel quite right. I cock my head to the side, undo the top button of my denim shirt, and assess the effect. It’s the button-down, I decide. I hate button-downs. They’re too stuffy, too put together. It’s notme,and I’m not comfortable.Fuck it. I’ll go with my usual T-shirt instead. Except the only ones I have are somewhat threadbare and worn.
“Hang on,” I say, opening the bathroom door to Hudson’s raised fist a few inches from my face, about to pound on the dooragain. He lowers it as I push past him. “I just need to change my shirt.”
Hudson lets out a loud groan.
“Just throw on the same old ratty T-shirt you always do and let’s go. What’s gotten into you, anyways? Since when do you care about what you’re wearing?” he asks, following me down the hall towards the master bedroom.
“It doesn’t matter,” I deflect, stalking through to the walk-in closet in my bedroom. The last thing I want is for Hudson, or anyone, to figure out why tonight feels so monumental in my mind.
“I don’t understand what the big deal is,” he says, leaning casually against the door frame and watching me frantically unbutton the suffocating shirt I have on. “We’re just going over to Ally and Mason’s for burgers and beers. You lookfinedude. Look at me.” He gestures towards the paint-stained T-shirt and jeans he’s wearing.
“Everyone knows you’ve been working here all day.” I pull out the only white T-shirt I own that doesn’t have holes or grease stains from working at the bar, and a pair of khaki jogger-style chinos. “At least everyone from Heartwood is used to seeing you like that,”I say.
Hudson is almost always covered in either paint splatters, sawdust, or a combination of both since he’s been working in construction. The project I’ve enlisted his help with has been no exception. It somehow suits Hudson, giving his normally boyish features a rugged quality.
“It’s just going to be Mason, Jett, Ally and—” Hudson cuts himself off, and his eyes go wide as if he’s made some groundbreaking realization. “Ally’s friend, what’s-her-name.”
“Spencer,” I say, using every muscle in my face to keep my expression neutral.
“Dude.Dude.You want to hit that don’t you?” Hudson jokes, landing a punch on my tattooed bicep.
“I don’t even know her. We’ve met once. Briefly,” I deflect, recalling the stormy night that Ally and Mason had gotten stuck at the hospital out in Calgary almost a year and a half ago. Spencer was waiting with them when I went to pick them up from the emergency department. I’ve never seen someone look so beautiful under fluorescent lights.
We spent the long drive back to Heartwood together in the front seat, with Ally and Mason still shaken from the storm that stranded them there, asleep in the back. Whenever I recall that night with anyone, I purposefully leave out the fact that she stayed over at my place. I still haven’t told a soul about it.
“Yet you remember her name,” Hudson jeers in a teasing, sing-song tone.
“It’s a relatively uncommon name. That’s the only reason I remember it,” I lie. The truth is, Spencer has crossed my mind more than once since the first night I met her. More times than I care to admit. At first, she planned on staying at the motel, so as not to impose on Ally and Mason. But as soon as I went to drop her off, I took one look at the place and insisted she make use of my guest suite instead. She didn’t protest. She needed a safe place to stay, and I provided that for her.
Since then, I haven’t been able to get her out of my mind. She was fucking gorgeous. She was funny. Her eyes had this …firebehind them. She felt dangerous in some ways, but she was also warm and inviting, like we had met in a past life. Now, she’s back in town and I can’t get control of myself. I’m excited and terrified all at once to see her again.
“Sure …” Hudson drags out the word with a heavy dose of skepticism, and the corner of his mouth quirks up to the side. I pull my T-shirt on over my head and run my hand through my dark brown hair, smoothing the longer ends on top even thoughthey’ll still look dishevelled once my bike helmet comes off. “You finally ready?”
“Yeah, yeah,” I say somewhat absentmindedly, as my phone vibrating in my pocket draws my attention. It’s Finn. I left him to look after the bar tonight and close up, which he’s only ever done once, and I was there to oversee him.
FINN
Yo, where do we keep the rest of the float? I need to replenish the till.
It only makes me slightly nervous that Finn is already having to dip into the float for more cash. I realize I’m going to have to go over there myself since I keep it locked in my office, and it totally slipped my mind to give him the key.
“On second thought, I’m going to take my bike. You head over without me.” I click off my screen and slip my phone back into my pocket. “I have to stop by the bar first.”
“You couldn’t have told me that before you made me wait this long to get ready?”
“Sorry, bud. Something came up and Finn needs a hand. I won’t be long.” I slap a hand on my little brother’s shoulder. “I’ll see ya over there, alright? Pop a beer in the fridge for me.”
“I’ll make sure to give it a thorough shake first.” He points at me, finger-gun style, his lopsided grin making the dimple in his cheek visible like it has since we were kids. The sandy blond waves that he wears longer on the top flop over his forehead as he backs out of the door and pivots on the driveway to jog over to his truck.
