[COMPLETED]
I won't be another straight man's secret.
It's hard to plan the perfect wedding for your best friend when you can't keep your eyes off the groom's cousin. Sky's perfect -- except for one thing: he's as straight as the last man who broke...
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“What kind of car is that?” Raven asked as he eyed a light blue vehicle.
As he was checking out the car, I was struggling to take my eyes off him.
He’d come to the car show in a pair of tight black jeans and a black sweater that almost reached all the way down to his knees. He’d also chosen to wear a pair of black-rimmed glasses, which gave him a more distinguished look, even though I was pretty sure that the frames had no prescription.
There was something so impossible to ignore about Raven’s everything, and the more I tried to convince myself that we were just two guys at a car show, the more it felt like I was lying to myself.
I wanted him. I wanted Raven.
But I had no idea how to bring it up, and I had no idea if he wanted me that way. Ever since our bakery incident, Raven had been slow to respond to my text messages and even slower to return my calls.
“Chevrolet Bel Air,” I answered his question. “It’s the kind of car that got used a lot in drag racing.”
“I love it,” he exclaimed. “There’s something really sexy about this car, right? I don’t know. Maybe just because it reminds me of Bonnie and Clyde.”
There was that word again. Since we’d walked into the car show, Raven had gravitated to a set of model cars on the floor, and he’d been recklessly throwing out that word ever since: sexy.
I didn’t know why, but whenever he said the word, it sent shivers right down my spine. It also sent shockwaves through my cock, which was getting harder and harder to hide as it hardened behind my boxers.
“So, you’ve been pretty busy these past few days?” I asked, desperately trying to change the subject.
“Yeah. Sorry for kind of going M.I.A.” His reply seemed laced with regret. “Clarissa isn’t my only client. I recently had another future bride come in, with a huge budget and literally no idea about what she wanted to do for her wedding.”
“What kind of budget are we talking about?”
“Half a million dollars,” Raven answered, seemingly unbothered by such a high number. “Hey, do you think they’d let me test drive this thing? You know, if I asked super nicely?”
“Are you… used to being around people with money?” I knew the question had come out strange, and I immediately wanted to change the wording. “I mean, is that just something you’re used to? Did you grow up wealthy or something?”
“That depends. Do you count growing up in a one-bedroom apartment in Wisconsin as wealthy?” He laughed. “But no. I didn’t grow up wealthy. I am used to being around rich people, though. Once you’ve partied with a few millionaires, they stop being special.”
“You’ve partied with millionaires?”
“Yep.”
“Do you mind expanding on that?” I pressed, curious about that part of Raven’s life.
