Chapter 1
December 31
Being frog-marched through slushy city streets wasn’t the way Ezra Taylor anticipated his New Year’s Eve turning out. The original plan had been like every year prior—him at home, blissfully alone watching the chaos unfold on television from the comfort of his couch. His best friend had changed all that when he’d suddenly (and dramatically, like all things Hugo) split from his long-time boyfriend on Halloween. Hugo then decided Ezra needed to be his date to every holiday function from Thanksgiving to the ringing in of the new year. Ezra had been in comfort mode when he’d agreed. Otherwise he would’ve done a better job of extricating himself from the claws of doom.
Hopefully Hugo would have a new guy by Valentine’s Day, or sooner, because Ezra was exhausted. Utterly and completely exhausted.
He adjusted the askew half-mask covering the upper part of his face, clutching their invitation to the New Year’s Eve masquerade ball in his hand. At least with the mask, he could hide in some small way, though it wasn’t as much as he’d prefer.
They slipped through the crowded sidewalks, avoiding the ice and dirty snow as best they could. Always brash, the city was even rowdier than usual that evening. The combined noises of honking horns, festivities, music, screams, and laughter vibrated through him like a pulsing heartbeat. It seemed everyone was out on the streets, waiting for the clock to strike twelve, which would be in a matter of hours. Of course they were late to the party. Hugo would be late to his own damned funeral, but Ezra had known that in advance of agreeing to be his bestie’s plus one.
Inhaling, Ezra could scent snow in the air. He smiled to himself. He’d always loved to watch the snow falling. He’d have preferred it while at home, wrapped in a warm sweater with a cup of even warmer cocoa in his hand instead of on the street, but beggars couldn’t be choosy. Bring on the snow.
“Are you sure this costume doesn’t make my ass look fat?” Hugo asked. They stood at a crosswalk, awaiting the light to change. Ezra glanced down at his over-the-top seventeen-century gothic get-up, as did a few of the other people waiting on the corner with them.
“I told you that you didn’t have to wear a costume. Just a mask would’ve sufficed.” He’d spent at least an hour convincing Hugo to just put something on, already. Hugo had way too many costumes for an adult. He hadn’t decided which one until the very last second, after multiple changes. “You could’ve worn a tux like me.”
Hugo chuckled. “That’s bor-ing. This is a ball. Do you get what that means?”
Boring? If only Hugo knew what he was wearing under that tux. He adjusted the bow tie around his neck, already having heard Hugo’s complaints back at the apartment. “This look is classic.”
The crosswalk light shifted, and they moved across the street with a pack of people.
“Why did I even bother asking you to come tonight?” he asked, motioning to Ezra’s apparel. “We’re going to a masquerade ball. At a gay club. Do you understand what the expectation is tonight?” He scoffed, crossed himself, and then looked up to the heavens. “No color. No costume. No wig. No anything. What am I going to do with this man, I ask you?”
After Hugo’s conversation with a higher power, Ezra opened his mouth and said the one thing he should’ve said weeks ago. “In all honesty, I was hoping you’d find someone else to go with by now and I wouldn’t have to.”
Hugo stopped abruptly at the curb and turned to Ezra. Pedestrians buzzed past them on either side. “You didn’t want to come tonight? Why didn’t you say so?”
“Look, we’ve been each other’s insta-date all through the holidays. Your family. My family. Our friends. But I’m exhausted with all this peopling. You know I’m an introvert.” How he was best friends with the extrovert of extroverts, he wasn’t sure. The only obvious answer? They’d known each other since they were six. Their families had lived side by side for at least a decade and even after the move, they hadn’t been all that far. Time had forged a bond their differences couldn’t destroy. Hugo drew him out of his lonely little box of an apartment, and he helped his friend appreciate quiet on occasion.
They were perfect opposites.
“I know, but you seemed like you were actually enjoying the holiday and all the festivities. I haven’t seen you smile that much in forever. You should’ve told me it was too much.”
“The family parts were okay. The dinner at Mark and John’s place was nice.” Ezra noted the first snowflake falling and his focus shifted. The call of his living room and that mug of cocoa was strong.
“Do you want to go home?”
Ezra eyed Hugo’s disappointed expression and couldn’t speak the truth. Not when he was speaking his mind at the eleventh hour and they were that close to arriving. He lifted a hand and scrubbed at his thin beard and considered his situation a moment before reacting. Forcing a smile, he grabbed Hugo’s hand and tugged. “We’re almost there so we might as well go. Let’s get a move on. We’re already late.”
“Are you sure you really want to go?” Hugo asked, concern in his tone.
One more night of celebrating wouldn’t kill him, and Hugo wasn’t completely wrong about enjoying the holiday festivities. It had been nice—in small gatherings. The ball wasn’t going to be a small group. Not by any measure.
A few blocks later, they arrived at their destination—Brava! The nightclub had been opened over the summer and Hugo had been an early regular. Ezra had joined Hugo once, but the club had been too loud and too crowded for his tastes. That hadn’t stopped Hugo, who’d been in his element. His repeated patronage over the months had earned him a spot on the guest list for the invite-only ball.
As soon as they entered, it was clear Hugo was a favorite of the staff and regulars. Hugs and kisses abounded for his best friend as they wended their way through a throng of brightly costumed revelers. Hugo had been right. The plain tux stuck out like a sore thumb. Ezra ignored the condescending looks as best he could.
Long moments later, when they’d finally gotten their drinks and found an abandoned standing table near the dance floor, Hugo eyed him.
“What?” he mouthed.
After waving at the spectacle laid out around them, Hugo leaned in and spoke directly against his ear. “I told you so, Plain Jane. You and that other guy are the only ones in here with a tux on.”
Ezra scanned the interior. He hadn’t seen anyone else in a tux. Hugo pointed, helping him with his little game of ‘Where’s Waldo?’ His gaze landed on Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome standing across from them.
Damn, Daddy.
Of course, it was difficult to tell exactly what the man looked like. The lights were low, there was a bit of distance, and then there was the half-mask covering his upper face. But the close-cropped dark hair with a few sprinkles of gray, neatly trimmed beard, full, kissable lips, and hint of an aquiline nose, coupled with the broad shoulders and towering height was enough for Ezra’s libido to stand up and take notice.
And at least he wasn’t the only one who’d went with a tux.
“A matched pair, it seems,” Hugo said near his ear. “And he’s your type.”