My eyes practically popped out of my head as I was met with a chorus of Liam “I'm Always Right” Wrights.
What the hell?
"Wait, how did you guys know?" I said, my grin replaced with a grimace. They'd ruined all my fun.
"It's all over social media, Hudson," Mikey said. His bright blue eyes sparkled mischievously.
"It is blowing up like a big boy sitting on a cake," Nick threw in for good measure, back to his usual sassy self.
"Yeah, how many photos did you guys take?" Steel asked, looking at me. "It's literally all he's been posting for the last three days."
It was?
I wasn't a huge fan of social media and only ever logged on once a month or so. I pulled my phone out of my pocket, and with a few taps brought up Liam’s social media accounts.
"Holy shit," I muttered under my breath as I scrolled down, looking at all the photos. The guys weren't pulling my leg, they were right. All of the images he had been posting over the last three days were...of us.
"Next time you see him," Porter said chortling, "ask him what Daddy filter he uses, because you look damn fine in those pics, Hudson."
I did?
I guess I didn't see myself the way that other people saw me.
I'd always been big and strong, that was how I got a weightlifting scholarship at Daylesford University. I never worked out to look good, it was a sport to me. The muscles were a byproduct, never the focus.
I got the ink stupidly young. I made some bad choices that I really regretted. It had taken me almost a decade, a shit ton of money, and countless hours in the chair to cover them up with the beautiful designs that I now had.
And my shaved head? That was more of a practical thing than anything else. Baldness was unfortunately hereditary in my family, and I started thinning out pretty badly in my late twenties. I didn't want to do comb overs, or hang onto the last strands of hair like a desperate man, so I took the plunge and shaved my head, Vin Diesel-style, a month before my thirtieth, and never looked back.
Nothing about my appearance was planned or staged. It certainly wasn't because I wanted to give off an alpha power-top vibe.
Why would I have wanted to do that, when it wasn't the truth of who I was?
"So what happened? What's the deal?" Steel asked.
"He just came into the gym and wanted a personal trainer," I said with a shrug, trying to make it sound light and spontaneous.
"How did you end up as his personal trainer?" Stirling asked, trying to hide the smile creeping along his lips.
Damn, these guys knew me too well. They knew I had stopped taking on new clients a few years ago.
They knew that the last new client I had taken on was...Richie.
"Hey, leave him alone, you guys." Porter was the last person I expected to come to my defense. "We all know he's been crushing on the guy for ages. This is good, Hudson is finally talking to the guy. And by the looks of Liam's social media, he seems kind of interested in our Hudson."
Was he interested?
I felt like an idiot for even asking him to help promote the gym, but he didn't seem to mind. And he didn't seem to waste too much time before asking for a favor of his own.
"What are you thinking?" Stirling asked, looking over at me.
I swallowed and suddenly wished we were at a bar, where I could find refuge in a vintage scotch.
"Well, uh...he did me a favor by promoting the gym, so I agreed to do him a favor as well."
Five sets of eyebrows shot up right away.
"What kind of favor?" Porter said as he leaned in.
"W––Well, he's got this event next week and he asked me to go as his...date. His fake date," I quickly added.
It wasn't real. It wasn't as if he liked me. It was me returning the favor.
A simple quid pro quo and nothing more.
So what if a part of me was more excited about it than I had been about anything else in a very long time? I was probably just happy to be leaving the house on a Friday night than anything else. Yeah, that was probably what it was.
"Just be careful with him, okay?" Porter said, and I could hear the genuine concern underpinning his words.
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"I've just heard a few things about him, that's all," Porter said.
"I have too, Hudson," Steel chimed in.
"Like what?" I asked. They'd never said any of this to me before.
"He's ambitious. He's ruthless. He's egotistical. He's a publicity whore that will literally go to the opening of an envelope…" Porter's voice trailed off.
I folded my arms across my chest. I didn't like listening to gossip or innuendo. Besides, I hadn't seen any of those traits that Porter had just listed. And I was a pretty damn good judge of character.
"So what's the event you guys are going to on your fake date?" Nick asked, making sure to stretch out his arms and use exaggerated air quotes around fake date.
"Uh…" Shit. This wasn't going to look good. "We're going to the opening of an envelope."
Porter threw his head back and let out a gratuitous Ha! while the others were more muted in their confusion.
“It’s an exhibition,” I added quickly. “An emerging artist has designed a series of envelopes and he’ll be opening them on the night. It’s a performance thing, a post-modern commentary on social interaction…”
My voice was sounding more desperate the longer I spoke.
It was a piece of pretentious horseshit and I knew it...but I didn’t care if it meant a date with Liam Wright.
A fake date. A fake date with Liam Wright. I had to keep reminding myself to add that word.
"I'm just surprised," Steel said as he leaned back into the sofa. "I never had you pegged as being interested in art."
"Oh, yeah," I said, grateful that someone believed me. "I have been...for a while now. I mean, look, I'm sure this local artist is no Tchaikovsky, but I think it's important to support local emerging talent, you know?"
For some reason, the guys snickered at that remark.
“Just be careful, Hudson,” Porter said once the snickering had stopped. “I know you've had a crush on him for forever, but this is a guy who’s willing to do anything to get his face—or his ass—into the papers."
“Speaking of his ass,” Nick piped up, “is it true that he gets booty shots? I mean, the guy is not a big boy like me, and yet, he’s got an ass that I would kill for.”
More laughing from the group, but not from me. I smiled and let it pass, but in some small way, it bothered me.
I knew there was more to Liam Wright than just his ass and a cute catchphrase. I hadn't been lying to him when I said his ass was my eighteenth favorite thing about him. Sure, I didn’t have a complete list of all the things I liked about him...yet...but I wanted to.
Right now, I could easily add a few things to that list, like his adorable smile with that crooked tooth, how he was a hard worker at the gym and never gave up no matter how much his arms started to shake approaching the end of a set, and that he was even cuter in real life than he was on TV.
There, three out of eighteen wasn’t a bad start, was it?
“It’s nice that he’s helping you promote the gym.” How was it that Mikey was the voice of reason here? Normally it was me, but I was starting to get the impression he could be good in that role too.