Andrew’s chuckle rumbled through Brian like a good massage chair. “That wasn’t work. That was all pleasure, baby.” He slapped Brian’s arse gently.
Brian’s eyeroll was lost in the side of Andrew’s neck. With a groan, he slid off his lover and toppled slowly onto the bed, vaguely aware of Andrew dealing with the condom. One day, Brian would help with the clean up, but apparently today wasn’t it. Andrew finally lay down with him, head on Brian’s chest, arm draped over his waist, light yet claiming. Brian was close to sleep but his mind kept replaying Andrew’s teasingly sweet words about work and pleasure.
“Is driving back and forth to Brisbane each day too much?” Brian trailed his fingers along the arm over his middle.
“It’s not pleasant, but this is worth it.” Andrew kissed Brian’s chest.
“I’m being selfish, aren’t I? Wanting you home every night.”
“Not unless me wanting to be with you every night is selfish, too.”
Brian wove his fingers through Andrew’s and squeezed his hand. “I don’t want you getting too tired. I think you should stay up in Brisbane through the week.” He took a deep breath and rapid-fired out, “You can even stay with Eliot of the Hickey of Doom if you need to.”
Head popping up so he could look directly at him, Andrew frowned. “Really? You’d be okay with that?”
“Sure.” His leg was twitching and Brian forced it to be still. “Just . . . don’t let him give you anymore hickeys, okay? Or do anything else to you.”
A small, teasing smile curled Andrew’s lips. “Is this your way of saying you want to be exclusive? Because you don’t need to ask. I already am. I always will be.”
It was just the endorphins making Brian tear up. “Good. Me too.”
Andrew moved over him and kissed him, still smiling. “How about we talk about me staying in Brisbane later?” He nibbled his way down Brian’s throat. “I’m here right now. That’s all that matters.”
“Yeah,” Brian agreed, his body already responding to Andrew again. “That’s all that matters.”
If only.
They slept late in the morning and ended up having to rush to meet the others.
True to their misinformation plan, Troy and James had stayed the night in a hotel in Burleigh Heads and Brian and Andrew rocked up in the rented minivan midmorning. James watched them warily when Troy let them in, pointing out the swell was too shit for surfing.
“Change of plans.” Brian pulled out his phone and showed it to James. “We’re going to Currumbin instead. Surf’s much better there.”
“Not at this time of day,” James muttered, reaching for the phone.
Which was when Troy and Andrew snuck up on him from behind and caught him between them. James fought back, but only half-heartedly, his laugh mostly one of relief as he probably realised he’d been lied to about what was really happening. He was blindfolded, hands bound and marched down to the van. People looked, but that was probably because Brian had put a top hat on his head that said ‘The Bachelor.’ The top hat was coated in purple glitter. On the subsequent drive, Brian and Troy got him into matching sneakers and tutu.
“What the hell is this?” James laughingly demanded, still blindfolded.
“The bach party of your dreams,” Troy announced. “I’m going to untie your hands. Promise not to hit me.”
James promised and he kept it as they put a glittering purple vest on him and slipped elbow length gloves on then retied his hands. Just in time as they arrived at their destination.
Andrew parked and they carefully guided the blindfolded bachelor out of the van and into the clubhouse.
“Where are we?” James kept asking. “I smell food. Are we at a restaurant?”
“Not really.” Brian helped Troy steer him past the restaurant where an early lunch was on offer and to a private function room.
Andrew opened the door for them and leaned in to hush the group of guys waiting. Troy and Brian manoeuvred James in, Andrew closed the door, and Troy positioned James. Around the room were a dozen of James’s and Elle’s male friends and family. The dads, Mr. Rollins and Mr. Tally, had teamed up amidst the mostly twenty-something crowd. All of them were standing still and quiet, waiting to spring the surprise. Brian counted them down and on one, Troy pulled off the blindfold and everyone yelled and cheered.
Mr. Rollins came over and hugged James. Father and son were shockingly similar in looks and build, except that Mr. Rollins was wearing a bright red Hawaiian shirt ala Magnum PI. James laughed at his dad, then looked around at the purple and silver balloons and streamers and sneered sarcastically at the banner with the picture of a cartoon bride and groom with his and Elle’s faces stuck on them. It had the slogan ‘Man Down’ and the groom was lying on his side. Then he looked down at what they’d dressed him in.
“What is this all about?” He laughed and patted his tutu.
“It’s all part of the fun and games.” Andrew pointed to the large floor to ceiling windows along the side of the room. Beyond was a beautiful expanse of lush greens, sand traps, and water hazards.
James walked to the windows, getting slaps on the back and hugs from his friends and family as he went. “Golf?”
“We have the grounds to ourselves for three hours,” Brian explained. “We’re going to play all eighteen holes.”
James tugged on his vest. “What’s all this?”
“Well, if you get the lowest score on a hole, you will be allowed to take off one item of clothing.”
James groaned. “If I don’t?”
“Then you do a shot. All the losers do a shot!”
“But I’m hopeless at golf.”
The whole room cracked up.
They all did a shot and headed out. A couple of the guys weren’t drinking so they drove the cart with the drinks around the greens. James was hopeless but fluked a low score on the twelfth hole and took off, off all things, the vest. Andrew was hopeless as well and, along with most of them, he was drunk after a dozen holes. However, unlike most of the others, he was adorable as he smooched up to Brian and tried out corny pick up lines. Thankfully everyone just laughed like it was a joke, but it left Brian amused, confused and, damnably, somewhat aroused. The urge to return Andrew’s albeit slurred endearments and let the clumsy gropes land was strong. His half-realised revelation from the night before was solidifying up, even without Andrew’s cute seduction attempts. To distract himself from making a loud and proud—if massively scary—announcement then and there, Brian focused on the game. He’d played with his father a lot through high school and uni, and only lost on one hole and had to drink. James slurringly accused him of being a doctor and therefore having an unfair advantage. Brian did two more shots to appease the horde and hopefully settle his raging emotions.
Back at the clubhouse, they had a late lunch to sober up a bit, got into the vans and hit the paintball place.
“This is more like it.” James hefted a rifle and grinned. “Prepare to—what? That’s my gun!” He lunged after the weapon Andrew had plucked out of his half-drunk hands.
“You don’t get a gun.” Andrew handed it off to Brian.