My Anti-Valentine Read online

  It was tough to put Bret in the rejection box, though. He was seriously cute, with curly brown hair and black frame glasses that somehow accented his hazel eyes instead of hiding them. In maroon skinny jeans that were rolled into cuffs over boots and a checkered button-down under a snug brown sweater, he was working the hipster look and working it well.

  He would definitely look down his nose on most of Harry’s half-assed choices in the world. Harry didn’t care much about music as long as you could dance to it, and he couldn’t be bothered with railing against commercialized holidays because holidays were fun. He didn’t really want to live in a world without flowers and chocolates and greeting cards.

  Still, Bret most definitely had his attention as he railed from his picnic table turned stage. Harry didn’t notice Darla walk up until she reached for his face.

  “I think you’ve got a little drool there,” Darla teased, wiping a finger at the corner of his mouth.

  He swatted her hand away as a friend of hers laughed.

  “Shut up and stop embarrassing me.”

  Darla gestured to the redhead beside her. “This is Erin, Bret’s best friend.”

  Harry groaned. “Tell me you’re kidding.”

  Erin laughed. “Well, we’re pretty close, but Bret has lots of friends.”

  Harry’s gaze strayed to Bret, who was getting laugh after laugh from the crowd with his theatrics as he burned his way through clothes, pictures and journal entries he’d written about his feelings of love, some of which he read out in sappy, love-soaked tones before tossing the pages in the flames. Bret seemed to be mocking himself for having feelings, which Harry really didn’t understand.

  “He does have a certain presence,” Harry admitted. “He’d probably do well on one of those pop star contests he undoubtedly hates.”

  Erin snorted her drink through her nose she laughed so hard. When her laughing, snorting, choking fit had ended, she pointed at Harry.

  “I like you. Are you single?”

  “Single, beautiful and gay,” Darla offered.

  “Stop,” Harry protested.

  “Oh, did you think I meant you? No, I was talking about Bret. I’d totally do him, if he was interested. Wouldn’t you, Erin?”

  He could tell by her tone she was making fun of his words from earlier.

  “Oh my God, you heard that? Were you standing right outside the kitchen eavesdropping?”

  “What’s this now?” Erin asked.

  Darla turned to embarrass him further – as was their way — and Harry took the opportunity to duck into the house and fill a plate with snacks.

  He’d spent the night before drinking and he wasn’t so good at it he could it do it well two days in a row, so he needed to put something in his stomach. He’d already had one of those Heartbreaker cocktails Bret was pushing at everyone, and at this rate, he was going to need to drink more just to get through the night.

  Chapter 3

  Bret’s mood improved exponentially as he watched his ex-boyfriends’ belongings burn. It seemed fitting. They burned him, and now he was burning their stuff. Darla’s cousin had called him bitter, but Bret thought he’d earned the right to a little petty revenge.

  He was fully aware of Harry’s rapt gaze while he made snide jokes about Jake’s music tastes and Noah’s bad habits. Bret felt a niggle of guilt for being such a bitch, but he shrugged it off. Harry’s attention was a little tougher to dismiss.

  He was disturbingly cute. Bret didn’t ever see a guy and think, I’d do him, as Harry obviously did. Like many guys did, from what he heard. But that didn’t mean he didn’t notice when a guy was attractive. Trouble was, Bret was usually more comfortable crushing from afar. As soon as he tried dating, it became all about the sex, and that’s where everything fell apart.

  Bret wasn’t totally opposed to sex. He slept with his boyfriends. It was just never often enough to make them happy.

  He made his way through the crowd, making party small talk, until he slipped through the patio door to refresh his drink in the kitchen. He found Harry alone there, busy cramming a handful of chips into his mouth.

  Harry blushed, wiping crumbs off his shirt as he chewed and swallowed.

  “Is this okay? It’s just that I’m starving and we’re drinking. I really don’t want to embarrass myself anymore than I already have by puking.”

  “It’s cool. That’s what it’s there for,” Bret said, watching Harry’s uncomfortable body language. “Are you not having fun?”

  Harry shrugged. “It’s fine. This is not my usual scene, I guess. The whole anti-romance thing is kind of ...”

  “What? Bitter?” Bret filled in when Harry trailed off. “I suppose a guy like you doesn’t have many boyfriend troubles, but not all of us are so lucky.”

  Harry turned, narrowing his eyes. “Why would you say that? My cousin basically announced I was here for the taking. I’m single the same as you, and I’m pretty sure you can get a boyfriend just as easily as I can.”

  Bret laughed. “Okay, that’s just not true, but even if it were, getting a boyfriend isn’t the trouble. It’s keeping one who–”

  Harry cut in. “Your attitude doesn’t help.”

  Bret’s shoulders went rigid. Harry didn’t know how many times he’d heard similar words from boyfriends.

  Just relax and have fun in bed, Bret.

  Your attitude about sex is crazy!

  If you really loved me, you’d want me as much as I want you.

  Bret ground his teeth to hold back a retort. Harry didn’t understand him or his so-called attitude. Harry didn’t know him, so he had no place judging him.

  “Sorry you’re having such a bad time. You don’t have to stay here,” he said, managing to keep his voice steady with effort. “I need to …”

  He waved his hand vaguely in the direction of the living room, turning to go.

  “Wait, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean that.”

  Bret turned back toward him, aware of the party guests who were returning to the house to seek out food and beverages. Someone turned on music in the living room, something he should have done earlier, and he was forced to take a step closer to Harry so he wouldn’t block the liquor bottles.

  “You must not mean a lot of things you say, judging by tonight,” he said quietly.

  Harry flushed. “It’s just ... I don’t understand you. You’re super cute and outgoing and you had everyone eating out of your hand out there. You’re too young to be so jaded.”

  Bret scoffed. “I’m 27, which I’m willing to bet is older than you.”

  Harry shrugged. “Only by two years. That’s still pretty young. Why are you so cynical?”

  “You wouldn’t understand.”

  Harry’s eyes bored into his. “Why not? Just tell me your reasons. I might surprise you.”

  Right. Just tell him you’re not all that interested in sex. That’s one way to end the conversation.

  “Harry, not everything is as black-and-white as you think it is. Maybe romance does work for some people, but for most people? It’s a flimsy lie they throw over a not-so-romantic truth: Relationships are about sex, and they’re about having someone else to take out the garbage or wash the dishes. The heart is not a factor, no matter how many greeting cards disagree.”

  Harry’s eyes looked almost sad as he stared at Bret. “You honestly believe that?”

  Bret felt a niggle of guilt at the disappointment in Harry’s voice. He felt a little bit like he was telling a kid that Santa Claus wasn’t real. He was ruining the magic. But it wasn’t his fault it was all a pretty lie dreamed up by someone else.

  “Yeah, I do,” Bret said, with a nod.

  “That’s kind of sad,” Harry said. “You must have been hurt pretty bad to feel that way.”

  Bret bristled, feeling defensive again. “It’s not about being heartbroken. It’s just reality. There’s no romance without sex. Why pretend it’s about hearts when it’s really about orgasms? I wish it weren’t that way, b
elieve me.”

  “Dude, love goes beyond sex. Obviously it does. No one stays married for the sex. Have you seen a longtime married couple? They know each other better than anyone else in the world. They’re there for each other through good times and bad. That’s love.”

  Bret snorted. “Yeah, I’ve heard the wedding vows, too. Everyone totally upholds those.”

  “You’re missing the point.”

  “No, you are!” Bret argued. “If you take away sex, what’s left?”

  “Love? Companionship?”

  “Wrong, because your boyfriend, whoever he is, won’t be interested in the cuddles without the sex.”

  “I don’t think that’s true.”

  “Two of my ex-boyfriends disagree with you.”

  A look of confusion crossed Harry’s face. He stared at Bret, his eyes widening as he processed Bret’s words and put them into context.

  “Are you saying you don’t have sex?”

  Bret became aware he and Harry had drifted toward the corner of the kitchen, while the party went on around them. He glanced around to make sure no one was eavesdropping, before waving his hand in a back-and-forth gesture.

  “I’m not saying never. Just not often.”

  Harry’s eyes seemed to grow even larger, and Bret regretted his impulsive decision to spill the truth. Why was he telling this guy, a virtual stranger, about his sex habits?

  “Wow, so like ... how often is not often?”

  “It doesn’t matter.”

  “You still jerk off, though, right?”

  Bret felt his face heating up. “Forget I mentioned it, okay? Please don’t tell anyone. I … uh, I need to go do something.”

  He shoved his way through the bodies in the kitchen, escaping to his bedroom to regroup.

  ***

  Harry let his head fall back against the cabinet behind him with a thump.

  Boy meets boy. Boy likes boy. Boy asks boy if he masturbates. Give me a break, Harry.

  He couldn’t say anything right tonight. Bret was cute, smart and funny. He had charisma that seemed to draw everyone to him. And he’d chosen to confess to Harry, of all people, that he had trouble with romance because he didn’t like sex.

  Probably because you insulted and berated him about his views. Nicely done.

  Harry wasn’t sure if Bret told him because he wanted him to know or simply because he wanted to win their argument. And Harry still didn’t agree with him.

  Sex was just one component of a romantic relationship. Maybe Bret was right, and people couldn’t handle a relationship without sex, but that didn’t mean sex was the only thing that mattered. Compatibility, friendship and loyalty mattered, too, or the relationship would fail —even with great sex.

  “Harry!” A soft body thumped into his side, and he looked down to see Erin giggling at him. “You and Bret seemed cozy over here.”

  Harry snorted. “Right, me and the guy that doesn’t believe in—”

  “What?”

  “Love,” he said.

  Harry had nearly said sex, but Bret had asked him not to tell anyone. He respected Bret’s wishes. He wasn’t about to share someone’s personal business in a crowded party anyway.

  “Aw,” Erin said, “you’re so cute. I’d date you.”

  “Thanks,” he said dryly.

  “But you know, Bret’s had some rough break-ups. Maybe he’s a little gun-shy when it comes to love. Doesn’t mean you couldn’t hook up.”

  Harry choked back a laugh. Yeah, probably not. But then Bret did say he had sex sometimes. What that meant, exactly, Harry couldn’t even guess. Once a year? Once a month? Did Bret have sex only with a boyfriend, or did he go out on occasion to burn off steam and that was it?

  “I can see my work here is done,” Erin said, patting his chest. “Go get him. I saw him go hide in his bedroom.”

  Great. Nothing like walking into territory that’s anything but neutral.

  Chapter 4

  Bret heard a tap at the bedroom door, and drew on his reserves to call out an energetic “come in.” He needed to shake off this melancholy. The whole purpose of this party was to celebrate who he was, not fret over who other people wanted him to be.

  People like Harry.

  The door opened, and the guy who had him in turmoil peeked in.

  “Hey Bret, you okay?”

  Bret waved him in, resigned at this point to talking about his neurosis. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

  He forced a smile to his face as Harry crossed the room, dropping onto the edge of the bed beside him.

  “Make yourself comfortable,” he muttered.

  A hand touched his back, and he tensed. If Harry came here to hit on him after knowing how he felt about sex he might lose his shit.

  “I’m sorry if I sounded insensitive,” Harry said. “I got really curious, but it’s none of my business.”

  Bret relaxed, and Harry’s hand actually felt kind of nice against his back. Warm and steady.

  “Yeah, I get it. I’m a freak.”

  “No! You’re not. Sorry if I didn’t handle that very well. You just threw me off-balance.”

  Bret looked at him skeptically. “Yeah, right.”

  Harry laughed quietly. “Well, maybe you think I tell all guys I’ve just met that they’re cute and I’d totally do them, but I really don’t. Of course, that line pretty much always works in the gay clubs.”

  Bret felt a blush crawling to his neck. “Um, well ... you do get that you can’t do me, right?”

  “Well, yeah, not unless you wanted it. Of course.”

  Harry nodded seriously, while Bret stared at him in disbelief. Why was Harry wasting his time?

  “And I wouldn’t want it,” he said. “That’s kind of the point.”

  “But you have sex sometimes?”

  Bret lurched off the bed, whirling to face Harry. “Is that why you’re in here? You think I’ll hook up with you if it’s a one-time thing? No.”

  “I didn’t come here to hit on you,” Harry said, sounding a little offended. “I came in here to make sure you were okay. But I guess that was a mistake, if I’m making it worse.”

  “No, I’m sorry,” Bret said, feeling a little embarrassed. “I’m jumping to conclusions. I just got the wrong idea about your intentions.”

  “It’s okay.”

  Bret found himself breaking their awkward silence by blurting out more truths he should keep to himself. He spoke the words with a sense of horror, but he couldn’t stop them from spilling out.

  “I have sex sometimes if I’m in a relationship and if I can get in the right head space. But that’s still if. How many guys do you know who’d want a relationship like that?”

  “It’d be really tough,” Harry acknowledged.

  “Because there’s no love without sex. Or even with sex, if it doesn’t meet a certain quota, apparently.”

  Bret could hear the bitter note in his voice.

  Harry looked like he wanted to object, but he bit down on his lip. “I’m sorry.”

  He sounded so genuine all Bret’s anger drained away and he collapsed on the bed beside Harry.

  “It’s not, like, maybe you’ve just been with the wrong guys?” Harry asked.

  “Nope. Not unless you being gay is because you haven’t been with the right girl.”

  Harry nodded. “Fair enough. And it’s not like suppressed trauma from abuse or something?”

  Bret sighed. “No. Nothing is wrong with me. I just don’t think sex is that important. I’d rather just rub out a quick one and move on with my day. Sex is so ...”

  “Good?”

  “Boring,” Bret said. “It’s a lot of work for the same payoff, and I have to worry about someone else’s needs and I have to get all naked and gross.”

  Harry laughed. “Wow, you’ve given this some thought.”

  Bret smacked his stomach. “Shut up. I know I sound lazy and selfish or something, but I can’t help it.”

  Harry grabbed Bret’s hand, givi
ng his fingers a reassuring squeeze before releasing him.

  “Romance isn’t a piece of cake for me either.”

  Bret scoffed. “Please, you’re hot and preppy. I bet things always go your way. You’re probably the guy breaking hearts.”

  “Not even!” Harry objected, his eyes bright. “I’m the target of every guy who wants a hookup and nothing more. You hate romance because it’s tied to sex, but I want romance instead of only sex, you know?”

  “Well, you’ve come to the right guy.”

  They laughed together, falling against each other and just letting go. Bret had never talked to anyone before about his feelings about sex, and even though he was a little disturbed by how much he’d confessed to Harry, he also felt the relief of letting a little of his personal poison out.

  So far, Harry had been pretty damn nice about it, but between the alcohol in his system and the highly emotional discussion, Bret got a bit hysterical when the tension broke. They both did, laughing so hard tears seeped from their eyes.

  When they managed to calm down, Harry brushed an unruly curl off Bret’s forehead.

  “I wish I could date you, you know.”

  “Right.”

  “No, really, if only to prove you wrong,” Harry said with a grin. “Because I know there’s a guy out there for you. But you’ll never find that guy if you don’t give anyone a chance because you expect the worst out of them.”

  Harry was so earnest it made Bret’s chest ache. Maybe he should try again, with someone who knew going in what to expect. But it didn’t escape his notice that Harry wasn’t volunteering for the job.

  “I’ve dated. I’ve given it a chance, Harry. It’s not like I haven’t.”

  “I didn’t say it would be easy,” Harry said. “I probably sound like an idiot. I don’t know anything. I’m pretty sure I couldn’t date someone without physical affection. Like, I totally want to kiss you right now.”

  Bret’s heart twisted in his chest, torn in two different directions. Mostly, Harry’s words were a disappointment. His words confirmed all of Bret’s fears. At the same time, his stomach filled with butterflies because deep down he wanted Harry to like him.