Page 65 of Pieces of Me

Start as you mean to go on.

Rylan repeated that to himself over and over during the endless bus ride home. The breakfast he’d eaten sat like a lump of cement in his roiling stomach, and his hand still held a faint tremble as he stroked his lips with a single fingertip. Six years later and Scott Ashworth’s kiss still had the power to turn Rylan inside out.

But…Rylan pulled his backpack close and hugged it, his chin dropping toward his chest as he heaved a sigh. A few seconds into that spectacular kiss, and Rylan knew immediately that sex with Scott would still blow his fucking mind, would still rock his world―but it would be like going to bed with a complete stranger. Right before Scott’s lips touched his, when Rylan looked into his eyes, he’d been jolted to see they weren’t glowing with warmth, with the wonder of discovery, with that underlying tenderness that used to make Rylan ache. No. Instead it was that practiced heat that reminded Rylan of a carnival mask, the same hard, fake look Scott had on his face when writhing on a stranger’s lap, when talking to Josh, when posing for pics with his fans…and that mask seemed to be such a part of Scott now, Rylan wondered if he even knew how to take it off anymore.

He pulled out his phone and opened Scott’s Instagram account, currently over 100,000 followers strong. Rylan scrolled through it, staring at page upon page of a shirtless Scott, sometimes an underwear-clad Scott, hosting at Spectrum or other high-end clubs in Vegas, San Diego, LA… He’d made himself one hot commodity. Under almost every photo there were comments from men begging Scott to fuck them, praising his body and his face, each one of them thirsty and desperate for his attention. Scott had scores of men, multitudes of them, who would spread for him at the snap of his fingers; the pictures and what Rylan himself had observed at the club told that story. Rylan tossed his phone aside. He’d done the right thing in turning Scott down, as hard as it had been to do. He had.

Start as you mean to go on.

Because clearly what Scott Ashworth didn’t need was yet another sexual conquest―what he needed was a friend.

CHAPTER 14

Scott woke by degrees, the sunlight that was streaming in through the open shutters falling across his face. He rolled over in bed, away from the brightness, groping for his phone amidst the tangled covers and pulling it to him. Peeling a bleary eye open, he squinted at the time. Almost noon. Shit, it was still early―he didn’t have to be at the club until four for the monthly staff meeting. He tossed the phone aside and tried to go back to sleep, but it was no use, so he reluctantly got up and padded to the kitchen to make some coffee. While it brewed, he scrolled listlessly through Twitter, going through his mentions and retweeting some of the posts that had him tagged in them.

“Man Crush Everyday!” The picture attached was a club calendar shoot from the previous year. Scott smirked. He was wearing nothing but a pair of white bikini briefs that had been drenched in water. The fabric was rendered semitransparent, leaving almost nothing to the imagination, a tease of the highest order. It was one of his most shared and “liked” pics, and Scott never tired of seeing it.

“Hottest man alive. I’m so glad I got to meet you!” This one was a selfie with a fan, Scott’s tank top rucked up to show his abs, the guy he was with grinning from ear to ear, his arm wrapped around Scott’s trim waist. Scott winced at the lighting. Ugh. It made his skin look a little sallow, kind of unflattering. Still, his abs were on point. Nobody would notice the fucking lighting.

“Stunning and sexy. I’d go to my knees for you anytime, baby.” Oh, yeah. This one was a selfie Scott had taken at the gym recently, his camera phone held down low so the angle looked like it was taken from the perspective of someone giving him a blow job. A hint of pubes in the foreground, leading up into acres of ridged abs, a brown nipple at the very top of it all, everything glistening with a sheen of sweat from a vigorous workout…mmm. Definitely another fan favorite.

Social media time was an obligation, a part of his job he couldn’t shirk, and Scott realized he hadn’t posted anything new in over thirty-six hours. He moved into the natural light streaming in through the windows and snapped a selfie, playing with the filters until he was satisfied with it before posting it to Instagram with the caption, “Woke up like this! Who wants to come shower with me?!”

The comments started rolling in immediately but Scott ignored them, tossing his phone to the kitchen counter and focusing on getting his coffee ready. As he leaned against the counter and sipped the hot, satisfying brew, sighing with pleasure, his phone chimed. He blinked, since it was the notification sound he had set for his personal e-mail, the one he rarely, if ever, gave out and the one nobody knew. It could be spam, of course, but―oh, Jesus. What day was it?

Scott lunged for the phone and swiped across the lock screen. He had to enter his passcode twice since his hands were shaking so much, finally getting into his home screen and stabbing the icon for Yahoo Mail, which was glowing with a bright red “1.”

Sender: GED Testing Service. Subject: Your Test Results.

Scott gulped, feeling like he could faint. He’d taken weeks of online practice tests before scheduling an actual test day at the adult education center and sweating through the five required modules, leaving there convinced he’d failed miserably. Six years after dropping out of high school, and here he was stupidly thinking he could get his GED. A total waste of time and money, and Scott had spent the whole drive home from the center berating himself for being such a fucking loser.

But the testing lady had said the results either way would be emailed to him in a couple of weeks, and he stared at the email now, feeling his body shake, not able to remember the last time he’d wanted something so much.

“Spectrum Nights II, in Scottsdale. Think of it! Rich, young party people, the place in town to be on the weekends. Celebrities, charity events, a packed house every night…” Corey’s voice had been vibrating with excitement. “And I want you to be the headline host and general manager of the club. Once you get that MC₂ endorsement, you’ll be the hottest man on the scene.”

Scott had been caught up in the excitement, the dreams, until he’d remembered he was an uneducated dropout with no real hope of ever being capable of running a business. He’d be trusted, he’d try, and once again, all he’d do is let everybody down.

No.

That day he’d gone home and googled the steps he’d need to take to get his GED and then a finance degree, small business, accounting, everything. A cautious hope had sparked to life, a secret dream he couldn’t help but hug close to him, that maybe someday he could be a businessman…self-made, someone respected and admired for more than his rock-hard abs.

But with one swipe of his finger, everything would be snuffed out by evidence of his epic failure right out the gate. He should have known all he was good for was shaking his dick in people’s faces.

Scott took a deep breath and closed his eyes, sending a little prayer winging skyward before touching the email, the text loading―

Dear Mr. Ashworth:

Congratulations on passing the Arizona High School Equivalency Test with an aggregate score of 152…

Scott gasped, feeling like he could throw up. He’d passed? He rubbed one hand over his eyes, blinked, and looked again. It was still there, a score of 152, the low end of the passing range, but who cared? The guy who got the highest score and the guy who got the lowest still got the same piece of paper.

Your Arizona High School Equivalency Diploma Credential will be issued to you approximately two weeks after notification of a passing grade.

Oh, fucking hell, he’d actually done it! Scott tossed his phone down and did an impromptu dance, the elation filling him and making him want to shout the news from his balcony.

He grabbed his phone again to call someone, anyone, who could share in the excitement that was making him tremble with pure happiness. Scott pulled up his contacts and scrolled through them, looking for somebody who would appreciate what a huge deal this was for him, this first positive step taken toward his future…

His finger slowed on the screen as name after name flashed past, and the sad realization hit, replacing the joy. There wasn’t anyone. Oh, he had friends, an enormous circle of them, but no one who would truly understand how important this was, how much he’d overcome to get to this place.