Three Strikes - 29. 700 strikes against Shane

I set the bag of alcohol and mixers on the table, along with some beer for the heteros. It’d been a very long week, as far as work was concerned. I’d worked over sixty hours, thanks to others taking vacation time or calling in for this reason or that. I was exhausted, but there was no time for that. It was time to square up on our deal and I had all weekend off to recover from my exhaustion.

Somehow, it’d been decided the DONNAS and the DAKS would convene at my house to prepare for the big night out. I had the most club clothes, so it made sense. I’d texted my friends throughout the day and they decided they’d all bring a few extra items so DAKS had a wide variety to choose from.

I was actually looking forward to the night out since things had been tense between us all after things blew up between Shane and me. We were riding this weird vortex where we all pretending like things were fine, but in reality, it wasn’t. Having mended things with Shane had alleviated a lot of the hurt I felt from their lack support, but not completely. I was hoping after spending the evening together we could all move forward.

The DONNAS had shown up early, as was standard protocol anytime strangers decided to descend upon our normal prep assembly. We needed a few extra minutes to prepare for the guests.

The twins were in my closet and tossing out potential clothing items while the rest of us sorted through the additional items everyone had brought from their homes. Sammy held up two pair of daisy duke shorts—one lime green and one hot pink—that were basically glorified underwear.

“Twenty bucks says Drew has the twins wear these.”

“Do you really think Drew is going have them wear that much? We’re talking about a straight boi who’s dying for a gay experience—he picked the twins for Pete’s sake. I’ll see your twenty and raise you another twenty that they end up wearing nothing more than…” I dug through the pile of skimpy clothes until I lifted out a set of string bikini bottoms for men, “These.”

I looked at the twins, who clearly thought the whole conversation was funny.

“All I’m saying is…be prepared. Drew’s low key trying to dip his toe and wet his penis with an XY chromosome.”

“You’re full of shit,” Olie narrowed his eyes as he tried to figure out if I was bluffing.

“Not at all. In fact, I just cleaned myself out before you got here. One never knows what tonight might bring and I want to be prepared,” I winked as the group collectively rolled their eyes but laughed nonetheless. “But in all seriousness, Drew’s been in my business for months. I’m one hundred percent positive he would’ve fucked me already if I’d given him the chance, but I haven’t, so now he’s moving on to the twins.”

“I don’t believe you.”

I shrugged. “Fine, just watch.”

That’s when the doorbell sounded and everyone froze. We stared at each other for a moment then simultaneously rushed downstairs like a pack of dogs after a laser light. I swung the door open to find four, smiling, good looking men standing there.

“Welcome! Grab yourself a pre-party drink and then we’ll get started,” I greeted as I opened the door wider and waved them in.

Allé and Olie were in the kitchen starting on our signature drinks. The DAKS stepped into the house one by one and when it was Drew’s turn, he leaned forward, kissed my cheek, and gave me a half-hug. I looked around to make sure my unbelieving friends had witnessed it—they had.

The twins led the guests to the kitchen and, like a gracious host, I trailed behind. At first, it was a little awkward because no one actually knew what to do, but after Allé and Olie made a few drinks, and I started the home tour, things mellowed and everyone appeared to be more at ease.

Shane had been quiet since arriving. He only made eye contact with me when he entered, along with casual greeting, but after that it was a ‘speak when spoken to’ situation. I’m embarrassed by how many times I looked at him in hopes he was looking at me, only to find him looking elsewhere. He was being super respectful about my space and it was slightly irritating. And while everyone chatted and walked around my home, he hung back, in the shadows. When we finely made it to my room, which looked like a hurricane passed through with clothes strewn everywhere, a wide-eyed and shocked Shane looked around my room in shock.

“What happened in here?”

“We’re sorting through clothes you all might find helpful,” Nick offered, tossing the donation pile off to the side.

We had a fun time while showing off some of the clothes we’d collected over the years. I didn’t think the guys were quite prepared for our inventory. As we held things up and showed them off, Aaron, Kurt, and Drew would grab the occasional articles they’d found amusing, just in case they’d decide to include them in their ensemble. Shane, on the other hand, although finding the whole thing funny, didn’t appear to be interested in what we had to offer.

“Who wore those?” Shane asked.

Nelly looked inquisitively at the black, spandex boy shorts he was holding up, then looked at me.

“Wasn’t this you?”

I nodded.

He looked at Shane while answering.

“That’s what I thought. It was Donovan.”

Shane’s eyes were wide with shock and disapproval.

“You wore...just that...in public?”

“Of course not. I also had black combat boots and a black beret,” I smiled brightly.

“That sounds hot.”

Drew’s comment wasn’t lost on the rest of the group as knowing eyes darted around the room.

“It was! If I remember correctly, Donovan was approached about being the star of an orgy that night. Did you ever take them up on that?” Allé teased.

“Hell, no. I might dress slutty, but I’m a gentleman,” I laughed.

Nelly gave me a knowing look of disbelief. “Mmm, hmm.”

My face lit up like a Christmas tree—so much for being discreet. In an effort to end the conversation that might lead to the exposure of things best left in the dark, I ripped the spandex from Nelly’s hands, tossed them toward the bathroom.

“Anyway, what are we going to wear tonight? I shaved in all of the right places so, you know, I’m ready for anything,” I smiled, brightly while wiggling my eye brows.

There was something exciting about the anticipation—knowing Shane was going to dress me in a way that I was sure he thought would be hot, then I’d get to spend all night making sure he was watching me. I was curious about his taste and what he’d considered “hot club attire.” We’d never made it that far in our relationship. The bar was low since he obviously thought the romper was hot.

Aaron and Drew laughed as they rummaged through a few things until they each held an armful of clothes. Drew appeared excited to dress the twins in matching, spandex singlets that covered only the essentials. I raised my brow and laughed as my friends took turns looking at me. Everything Drew had said or did had proved my point, and no one was happier about it than the twins. Honestly, I hoped something would happen that might put my incident with the twins out of the potential spotlight. I didn’t want that topic brought up…ever.

After the twins had happily strutted their spandex-clad bodies around the room, Aaron started to get tired of waiting his turn so he dismissed Drew and the twins while tossing clothes to both Olie and Sammy, who happily grabbed them as if they were their first presents of Christmas morning.

“Okay, okay! Next!”

They were laughing, excitedly, as they raced each other to the bathroom. We could easily hear them laughing as they got ready together. After a few minutes the door burst open as they exploded out of the bathroom. \With their hands on their hips, they walked the invisible catwalk that the twins had previously dominated.

Sammy wore faux leather pants and a dark-green, cut-off sweatshirt with a wide, boat neck that hung off of his shoulder—it was actually quite flattering for his chubby frame. Olie wore daisy duke shorts with a neon, fishnet tank top.

Neither of their outfits were shocking, not for us anyway, but I was sure Aaron thought it was totally freaking them out. As far as I was concerned, they were suitably dressed for a Mormon-inspired gay club, if there was such a thing.

While we sat around, Drew and Aaron were preening like peacocks as we complemented and praised them for their choices of outfits. Allé and I were still wearing our normal clothes. I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it, but I was getting more and more anxious as the seconds passed.

My curiosity was piqued because Shane seemed so uninterested in the clothes we had presented, I wanted to find out what Shane had planned for me. Secretly, I’d also hoped it’d break the awkward ice wall that’d been between us.

“What about us? I didn’t see anybody grab anything. Did you not see anything that struck a fancy?” Allé finally spoke.

As Kurt grabbed two, brown, paper bags from the hall.

“We went shopping and brought the stuff with us.” He handed one to Shane and tossed the other one to Allé. “There you go!”

I watched as Allé rummaged through the bag and laughed.

“I’m going to change in the bathroom. BRB!” He tossed us a peace sign as he closed the door behind him.

He came back out a few minutes later wearing bleach-washed cut offs, which belonged in the 70’s, and a soft-pink sweater with a giant, white cat on the front. To top it off, he wore a headband with cat ears on it. Allé strutted out of the bathroom and down the invisible cat walk, (which was oddly suiting, considering his outfit) where he turned a few times before sashaying back.

“Meow!” I purred, raking my “claws” through the air.

Leave it to Kurt to do the unexpected. Everyone else had dressed outrageously, but Allé was dressed as a seventy-year-old woman in a thirty-five-year-old man’s body. We spent the next few minutes ribbing his outfit, although it was weirdly fitting and we all secretly loved it. It was so terribly awesome and I had no doubt he’d be the center of attention all night.

When everyone had had their fill, Allé asked Shane about my outfit, to which Shane pushed himself off of the back wall and handed me the last brown bag.

I was excited to see what I was going to get, knowing that Allé’s outfit was legit, and Shane was shopping with Kurt. I was actually a little jealous and thought, maybe, I’d get the same thing but with a dog. I loved dogs. I pulled the bag open and furrowed my brow when I saw the items. I continued to dig until my brain had fully processed what I was looking at.

“Go change. Everything you need is in there,” Shane assured me. Although, he wasn’t all that assuring as my face filled with horror.

“I have to wear it...all?”

Shane nodded.

As I walked to the bathroom, everyone’s curious eyes were on me. I closed the door behind me, dumped the contents of the bag onto the floor, lifted each piece into the full light of day for inspection. I wanted to cry.

“No!” I whined and pleaded loud enough for everyone to hear. “This is such fucking bullshit! I’ll take you up on that rematch!” I shouted through the closed door.

Still obviously upset that I’d denied a rematch when he wanted one, Aaron shouted, “Too bad! Now get dressed!”

I laid the clothes out and slowly got dressed. When I was done, I looked into the mirror and cringed. Hideous! There was nothing remotely sexy or amusing about my outfit. There were a few quick knocks before Shane’s voice came barreling through the door.

“Everything, Donovan!” His voice was pointed and I wondered how he knew I didn’t have it all on?

I grabbed the accessories he’d been so kind to pack then collected myself with a deep, calming breath before opening the door. Everyone was totally silent as they took in the sight before them then, as if on cue, they erupted with laughter.

“Cat-walk! Cat-walk!” They demanded, in unison.

I stiffly walked to the other side of the room, turned quickly, and walked back. If they’d wanted a good show, they were sorely disappointed. By the time I was done, they were laughing even harder.

“Where’d you get this stuff?” I asked a smug looking Shane.

He’d rounded up an ugly, plaid, short-sleeved, button shirt; pleated khaki shorts that were way too long; striped diabetic looking socks that covered my calves; beige Rockport walking shoes; thick, non-prescription glasses that were gawdy and ugly; and a stupid pocket protector with three pens.

“My grandpa,” Shane proudly smiled at my misery.

“Thomas?” I was surprised his grandpa had gone for it. I’d thought we were friends!

He nodded.

“I should’ve burned his clothes when I had the chance,” I murmured to myself.

Everyone laughed harder.

“I look like a forever virgin and I think these are actual diabetic socks,” I moved my leg side to side as I looked at them in detail.

“You’re not getting laid tonight!” Aaron laughed at me and gave a thumbs up to Shane.

*** *** *** ***

We’d been at the club for less than an hour before we’d decided to hit the dance floor. Without fail, every time one of them looked at me, they’d start laughing. It was not the kind of attention I enjoyed.

“Stop laughing.”

“I can’t. It doesn’t matter how sexy you try to dance, you look so…ridiculous.”

Nick had barely finished his sentence before he keeled over, laughing. I pushed my ill-fitting glasses back into position, which I had to do every thirty seconds. I rolled my eyes and glanced over to Shane, who was sitting at a table with Kurt and Allé. He happened to glance my way and playfully waved his fingers as I glared at him. He looked so smug and happy about his handy work, which I found adorable and annoying…mostly annoying.

With all honesty, I didn’t mind the situation. I didn’t love my outfit, but I’d enjoyed the constant joy on Shane’s face. So much so, I was starting to actually enjoy the outfit.

I think the conversation, along with everything Shane had shared, finally had time to sink in because the anger and contemptment I’d felt toward him was almost completely gone. Instead, I found myself missing him while craving his laugh and his happiness.

“That’s...nice,” the sarcasm rolled off my tongue like molasses as I walked away from their teasing.

I heard them pleading for me to go back, but I flipped the bird over my shoulder as I sauntered away. By the sound of the laughter in my wake, I doubted my confident departure had overshadowed the hilarity of my costume.

I found an empty barstool and cursed under my breath that I had to pull up my sagging grandpa shorts before taking a seat. They were several sizes too big and the belt didn't help all that much. The bartender had to do a double take and did a terrible job of hiding his laughter once he’d finished looking at me up and down. Of course, it was at that moment my stupid glasses decided to slip down my nose, again, which forced me to push them back up, again. The barkeep stifled his laugh as best he could, but in the end, he offered me my drink for free—perks of being on the receiving end of pity, I suppose.

I was halfway through my drink when a cute blonde approached me. I’d seen him around the club scene before and we’d flirted a few times but that was it. I believed his name was Jax or Max? He stood so close he brushed against my body as he casually leaned against the bar and winked.

“Hey.”

“Hey, yourself,” I lifted my drink to my lips and let my tongue flirtatiously play with the straw.

“This isn’t exactly a look I would’ve pegged you for, but damn if you don’t pull it off.”

For a moment, I completely forgot I looked like someone who’d spent their entire life inside a dusty library with a collection of vintage shadow boxes filled with neat rows of dead bugs. I pulled the glasses off and looked at them before laughing.

“Actually—”

Before I had a chance to explain the situation and the reason for my fashion faux pas, strong fingers squeezed my shoulders.

“You better put your glasses back on. The last time you took them off, you had a serve pout of vertigo and puked all over the floor. We don’t want that to happen again, do we?”

Shane picked up my glasses from the bar and slid them back onto my face. If that wasn’t enough, he pressed the bridge of the glasses with his finger until they were firmly against my face. When I didn’t fight him, he patted my shoulder as a reward for compliance. Bastard.

“I’m Shane,” he stuck his hand out to the man.

“Dax.”

Ah, yes, Dax. The name flooded back, but a little too late as I assumed I’d probably never share another conversation with him after this little episode unfolded.

“Nice to meet you. Careful with this one,” Shane slightly shook my shoulders. “He’s a special one.”

I didn’t know for sure, but I had the feeling that being “special” wasn’t a good thing and I was almost positive Shane had winked at the guy before he walked away. Dax was staring at me while trying to place something. Finally, his eyes lit up with recognition, he shook his finger at me, and smiled.

“I know why you seem familiar!”

I held back the urge to look annoyed. ‘Yeah, because we’ve flirted half a dozen times, you idiot!’ I thought to myself.

“A while back, you were here with him,” he pointed at Shane.

I furrowed my brows as I tried to recall what he was talking about, then it hit me—he was talking about the first time we’d ever gone out with DAKS. The first time I was with Shane.

“Not exactly. I was here with a group of friends that included him, but I wasn’t with him.”

I thought to myself, ‘Until later that night.’

He waved me off, “That’s beside the point. I remember you looked really good that night. I was talking to my buddies about you when your friend interrupted our conversation. He told us all about how you were transitioning from Georgia to Gordy.”

My mouth dropped open as my brain tried to understand his words. Georgia...huh...what? Transitioning?

“I have to say, you’ve done a great job. I’m glad he said something, though. If he hadn’t, I never would’ve known until—” he looked at me, knowingly. “He also handed one of my buddies a condom and told him to use it. He said you were on day one of antibiotics for an STD, maybe the clap or something? I don’t remember,” he shrugged and gave me a sympathetic smile. “Anyhow, if you’re interested, I’d like to take you shopping. We could pick out some new outfits for you that’ll turn heads. No offense, but what you have going on tonight doesn’t do you justice and, if the way you looked in the club the last time is any indication, you have serious potential.”

My mind continued to reel from the new information. I didn’t know if I wanted to laugh at the image of Shane wandering around the bar and spreading the most ridiculous lies about me or be mad at him for sabotaging my night out. Both, but first, I was going to find a way to make him pay.

“Well?” Dax looked at me as he waited for my response.

“Do you want to go shopping sometime? Maybe celebrate your transition with some killer new clothes? You look amazing, but it hurts to see you not reaching your potential.”

“Um…”

He grabbed a napkin and asked the barkeep for a pen.

“Why don’t we do this? I’m going to give you my number. If you want to take me up on a shopping trip, then text me. If not, no sweat,” he scribbled his information down then held it out to me. Though not completely sure of what had just happened, I plucked the napkin from his fingers and looked at it.

“You should call. It’ll be fun,” he said before walking away.

I looked at the napkin in disbelief, then turned around hoping Shane had watched the whole thing unfold. In my mind, I hoped he was jealous, worried...or something. Both because deep down I wanted him to feel those things toward me, and also, I wanted to pay him back for spreading lies about me. Unfortunately for me, he wasn’t paying attention. He was, however, laughing with Aaron and an unknown character.

I decided to order one more drink while I thought my way through a plan to get back at Shane. Evidently, watching a hot blonde approach me had changed the barkeep’s feelings of pity because he wasn’t as generous the second time around and I had to buy my own drink.

My ego had taken a huge hit. I’d never had to buy my own drinks before, never. I glanced down at my outfit and knew I’d better get used to it, no one was going to buy me drinks dressed the way I was. My mind quickly returned to Shane and the fact he’d put so much effort into making sure no one took me home that first time at the club. Handing out condoms because I had an STD! Gender transformation! He’d really covered his bases.

If I would’ve found out that information at any point before the prior week, I probably would’ve lost my shit. I knew, for a fact, I’d have made a bigger scene than I did the night I dumped him, but where I was (or I should say, we were) I thought it was kind of cute. I was confident he hadn’t done it to be malicious, he’d only wanted me for himself. The more I thought about it, it was kind of romantic. Not in the Nicholas Sparks romantic romance sense, more of a quirky RomCom situation. Nicholas Sparks would’ve never had his sexy lead sit alone in a bar wearing diabetic socks and Dwight Schrute glasses.

I glanced at Shane again, only to find him still engrossed in conversation and therefore, not noticing me. For months, he’d always been watching me, allowing his eyes to linger longer than they needed. Ever since brunch, there’d been a drastic decline of lingering gazes, which was probably the reason I became so excited every time I caught him watching, laughing at, or teasing me about my outfit (all three times it had happened).

I grabbed my drink and decided to make my way back to the table. I didn’t realize how intently I was watching Shane as laugh with Aaron and the mystery guest until Shane, who suddenly appeared to be rushed and anxious, spoke in a secretive manner only meant for his two friends.

I was curious about what was going on when suddenly, Shane pulled the UNSUB toward the dance floor. Aaron laughed as he waved them off and, after watching them for a moment, returned to the table. I on the other hand, stood there feeling disappointed. Shane wasn’t mine. I’d let him go and now he was dragging another man to the dance floor. I knew firsthand what would happen after dancing with Shane. The thought of what had happened between us ever happening between him and someone else was a. unexpected punch to the gut.

I felt clammy and nauseous as I brought my drink to my lips and noticed my hand was shaking. I stretched my fingers and gently shook my limbs in an unsuccessful attempt to control myself. For some reason, I couldn’t tear my eyes away from Shane and the UNSUB. They were dancing, nothing like the way Shane and I’d danced, which was a relief, but they were smiling and laughing. It was clear they were having fun together and it was a bit unnerving.

Although we’d shared moments like that—quite a few of them when we were happy—most of the time we’d known each other has been less than cheerful. The default setting in me blamed Shane because he’d been a jerk from the beginning, so it was his fault.

I watched Shane dance happily. There was a carefree nature about him that was rare. I’d only seen it once or twice during our short romance and I doubted many had had the pleasure of witnessing it. I was jealous and angry because someone else was the reason for it when it should’ve been me.

It was at that moment, when I was watching Shane and wanting to blame him for my pain and everything that had gone wrong, that I’d experienced a brutal blow to everything I’d ever known as true. It was a terrible, unflattering montage of my life. Clips and glimpses from my childhood to present life revealed parts of me I’d never wanted to acknowledge (for obvious reasons). As much as I’d wanted to, I couldn’t blame him for the demise of us, I could only blame him for the slow start. It was me, I was the saboteur. I had a gift for making mountains out of a molehills and manipulating any situation so I was the victim.

I usually dumped my partner before he could grow a pair and stand up to me. In my mind, I was a victim while in the relationship and I was justified when it finally ended. I was the epitome of a terrible person and I had done the thing I always did, to Shane.

I should’ve forgiven him when he brought brunch, but in the deep dark recesses of my subconscious, if I’d forgiven him, then I would’ve lost the upper hand.

I noticed the glasses slipping down my nose around the same time I noticed my shorts were falling uncomfortably low. For the first time in a long time, I considered myself the biggest loser. Not because of what I was wearing, but because of how I was feeling.

I turned away from Shane because my newly found self-revelation had made watching him too hard. I wanted to go home and wallow in self-pity over the things I’d royally screwed up during my life.

Over Shane.

I pushed my glasses up, hitched my pants to a more comfortable position, and pushed my way through the bar. I was nearly to the door when I was grabbed by both arms and carried backward; my feet dragging helplessly as Drew and Aaron laughed and talked amongst themselves.

“Bitch be crazy if he thinks he’s leaving.”

“A bet is a bet and you can’t leave until your keeper says it’s okay and I doubt Shane said you can leave.”

They deposited me on one of the empty chairs then grabbed the others for themselves. I sat at the table and quietly observed my friends as they interacted with each other until Shane finally returned. His smile was brighter than ever as he sat on the seat furthest away from me, not that there weren’t closer ones available. Everyone seemed excited by his return, I couldn’t remember him ever having such an animated welcome.

“So? How’d it go?”

Aaron’s question wasn’t meant for everyone to hear and I doubted anyone did since they were back to whatever they’d been doing prior to Shane arriving, but I heard it.

Shane smiled.

“Perfect. I couldn’t have picked a better one. He’s super into it and, although he’s a little wild, he had me laughing the whole time.”

They smiled at each other as Aaron gripped his shoulder and shook him in a congratulatory manner. Aaron asked him something, which I couldn’t hear, and Shane responded by enthusiastically nodding before replying. Aaron was pleased enough by the response to discreetly pump his pull his fist in victory, almost elbowing poor Nick, who sat on the other side of him. I felt the full blow, metaphorically, in the middle of my gut.

I wasn’t sure what was going on but I didn’t like it, and I didn’t feel like sitting there; pretending like nothing was bothering me.

“Refill?” I offered weakly, when no one responded, I quietly slipped out of my chair.

I felt like Eeyore as I sluggishly made my way to the bar. Poor Donovan. I looked and felt like a loser. I had to buy my own drinks, everyone at the table was in their own little group, and no one seemed to be inclined to talk to me.

Not one guy hit on me all evening. I looked like a loser and most of them probably thought I was a Trans slut with STD’s. I stood at the bar and, as I’d expected, no one approached me…not even the barkeep.

I stared across the room, while waiting, and saw the UNSUB blatantly flirting with another guy. I was fixated on them as they kept touching each other until the UNSUB pulled the other guy super close and kissed him…big time! They were still kissing when the barkeep, clearly annoyed because I wasn’t ready for him, finally got my attention.

I quickly ordered my drink then went back to watching UNSUB 1 and UNSUB 2 play grab ass with each other. I was angry at UNSUB 1 for doing that to Shane, who was clearly happy about whatever was starting between the two of them. Who was I trying to kid—I was fucking happy.

I paid for my drink and practically skipped back to the table. The smile was quickly wiped from my face when I noticed we had a yet another guest at our table. It just wasn’t my night. I had a feeling there wasn’t any chance I was going to get ahead. At least no one else was over enthusiastic about Davis joining in on our fun, especially not Shane. I took the last free seat, which happened to be next to him.

“Donovan. It’s nice to see you again,” Davis lied through his teeth. He wasn’t happy to see me.

“You, too,” I lied my ass of in return.

An Eeyore moment—of course I’d get to spend the rest of my evening next to Davis, of-fucking-course. I looked around, in an effort to find someone else's conversation to join, but there was none. I was stuck in the desert alone—death by Davis.

“I saw Shane dancing with someone,” he offered, as if this was brand new information.

“Why? Didn’t you know he’s a decent dancer?” I said, a little edge in my voice.

He laughed.

“Not at all, I actually imagine he dances quite well, among other things (he quietly mumbled the last words). I was just surprised it wasn’t you is all. Every day, he’s too busy to meet with me because he has plans with you. I’ve never understood the appeal, myself, especially after you dumped him the way you did, but (he stirred his drink as his word trailed off) whatever…”

What was that fool talking about? I hadn’t done anything with Shane for weeks. Plans with him every day? I looked at Shane, only to find him and his friends staring at me with slightly panicked faces.

“Then I saw dressed like that you (his eyes raked up and down my body with disgust) so it’s no wonder your boyfriend was finding other meat.”

Boyfriend? I looked at Shane again and, once again, he and his friends looked worried. Aaron’s eyes were especially wide as he gently shook his head no. Warning me?

I decided not to comment on the boyfriend issue since I didn’t hate the word. I ran my hands down my chest, smoothing the fabric of my ridiculous outfit, and shrugged.

“Oh, I don’t know. Shane picked it out.”

I managed a smug smile. His feelings for Shane were obvious and it brought me pleasure to prove him wrong, even if it wasn’t. He quickly turned his head toward Shane and gasped as he pointed at him.

“You dressed your boyfriend (he pointed at me) like that (he waved his hand up and down my body)!”

There was that word again—boyfriend. Then it dawned on me, and I smiled at the realization, that Shane had probably told him we were still dating as an excuse to keep him away. I could work with that.

They still looked worried and now I knew why. They didn’t want me to ruin his little ploy. I shot them a wink to let them know I was on board. They didn’t seem calmed by it, if anything, their agitation increased. I figured I needed to voice my support to let them know I wasn’t going to spoil anything.

“He’s a jealous boyfriend so he dressed me like this to keep other guys away.”

Davis didn’t look convinced so I got up and walked around the table and planted myself on Shane’s lap. I wrapped my arm around his neck and kissed his cheek.

“What are you doing?” His voice was tense.

I smiled brightly at him.

“Saving you from Davis. What does it look like?”

The evening had been pretty shitty, but things appeared to be turning in my favor. I was going to be Shane’s faux boyfriend, prove to him that he still wanted me, and by the end of the night, he was going to be eating out of my hand, again.

“I’d prefer you didn’t.” He turned his attention to the group and announced, loud enough for everyone to hear, “Actually, we’re not dating anymore—”

He was ruining everything by announcing our split, so in a panic, I excitedly interrupted him.

“We’re engaged!”

Shane’s body went rigid and I watched everyone try to hold a straight face as they watched the drama play out. In a rash attempt to stop him from setting the record straight, I might’ve made it worse.

“Donovan—” He started, but I quickly cut him off.

“We weren’t planning on announcing it, yet, but I guess this is as good of a time as any, since all of our friends are here!”

I pleaded for help from my friends, who looked as if they’d rather watch me drown myself. Oliver finally took pity and started to clap until, finally, the others finally joined in. I didn’t miss the glare Shane had sent his friends, who unapologetically smiled at the show.

“Oh, that’s wonderful news,” Davis lied through his teeth.

Since they were on a roll, their clapping turned to over-the-top congratulations and tips for planning the wedding. Aaron even tried to convince Shane and me that we could probably find a place to do it that night or stop by the courthouse on Monday and do a quickie.

I looked at Shane and smiled, innocently.

“We talked about eloping, but we want our families there. Isn’t that right, baby cakes?”

I wanted to tell him he could put his arms around me, his hands were hanging limply at his side, but I didn’t know how to do it discreetly, so I grabbed his hands and wrapped them around my waist as I burrowed deeper into his lap.

“Stop,” Shane spoke softly into my ear.

“Relax, pookie.”

I kissed the top of his head and squeezed him tight. Davis looked as though he wanted to murder me, which made me smile even brighter. I was enjoying the closeness when Nelly grabbed my attention from the other end of the table and waved me over.

“I’ll be right back, stud muffin. Don’t miss me too much.”

I affectionately rubbed my nose against his before making my way to Nelly.

“What are you doing?” Nelly laughed as I got closer.

“Davis thought we were boyfriends. I think Shane told him that as an excuse to keep him away, so I’m playing along,” I smiled. I was so proud of myself.

“No, you’re going to fuck everything up—”

I had no chance to ask what I could possibly fuck up because we were cut off by a booming presence.

“Hey, babe, sorry I took so long.”

The UNSUB, who’d completely forgotten about, was hugging Shane from behind as he kissed his cheek. Shane laughed uncomfortably as he patted the man’s arms before pointing for him to sit on a vacant chair.

Drew, Aaron, and Kurt’s eyes were wide, like they were watching a magic show and couldn’t wait to see what was about to happen. My friends looked at me with pity, except Nelly, who was shaking his head with an “I told you so” look on his face.

“Wait, who’s this?” Davis asked.

He stuck out his hand.

“I’m Jordan, Shane’s boyfriend.”

Shane’s boyfriend? My heart sank. I had absolutely no idea what was going on.

“I thought you were engaged to Donovan?”

Shane remained silent as the UNSUB furrowed his brows for a moment before piecing it all together.

“Oh, they were, but not anymore. That’s old news.”

He was met with zero resistance as he took Shane’s hand into his. I was hurt and angry because Shane had a boyfriend and everyone had failed to mention it. Mostly, I was embarrassed and humiliated because I’d pretended to be his boyfriend/fiancé, only to have it blow up in my face.

I looked, and felt, like a bigger loser than I did earlier. Regardless, I’d seen that guy sucking face with another guy not thirty minutes earlier and I wasn’t about to go down without a fight.

“If you guys are dating, then why did I see you suck face with another guy when I was getting my drink less than thirty minutes ago?” I spit as I crossed my arms and smirked in victory.

Checkmate.

Both the UNSUB and Shane looked panicked, but the UNSUB recovered quicker.

“There are lots of people making out tonight. I think you’re confusing me with somebody else. We’ve never met, how would you know if it was me?”

“Because I watched you dancing with Shane, earlier!” I blurted out, pushing the falling glasses up.

I couldn’t believe the guy was lying about being a cheating asshole. He looked at me with sympathy and nodded.

“It must be hard to see your ex move on.”

“He’s lying! I know what I saw!” I looked at Shane and gritted my teeth.

“Donovan, stop,” he pleaded as he put his arm around the back of the UNSUB’s chair.

I was angry. I couldn’t believe Shane didn’t believe me. I looked at the rest of the group, but it was obvious they had no intentions of helping so I stormed off. I was going to prove to Shane that his boyfriend was a liar and a cheater if it was the last thing I did.

I wasn’t perfect, but I’d neither lied nor cheated. I held my pants up with one hand as I searched the bar until I found the guy I’d seen UNSUB (Jordan) kissing and practically ran to him.

“Are you here with Jordan?” I asked while huffing from my frantic search.

He looked me over and smiled at my clothes, but I didn’t have time for that shit—I needed answers.

“Yeah, I know, I look like the old guy from UP. Now, answer my question.”

“Yeah, he’s my boyfriend. What about it?”

I couldn’t have gotten a better reply. I let out a loud sigh of relief and pulled his arm.

“Come with me.”

I wanted everyone to see my evidence so I shoved him in front of me as soon as we got to the table. I smiled at the group and then moved to, and glared at, Jordan.

I gestured the man, whose name I hadn’t asked, toward the table.

“Please point to your boyfriend.”

He only stood there, not saying or do anything.

I nudged him.

“Come on, tell them what you told me, earlier.”

Frustrated because he wasn’t doing his job, I looked at him in annoyance. He mouthed sorry as he stared apologetically at Jordan.

“Uh…I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. This wasn’t part of the deal,” he sputtered after a moment of awkward silence.

“What’s going on here?” I asked.

Shane dropped his head into his hands while Jordan cringed. Aaron gripped Shane’s shoulder, for support, while the rest of the crew tried to hold back their amusement. Something was off, but I couldn’t figure out what it was.

“You guys can leave,” Shane finally said.

“I’m sorry. I tried!” Jordan laughed as he got up and walked toward his boyfriend before they left together.

The table was quiet as I tried to figure out what the hell had happened. Everyone seemed to be clued in, except Davis and me, which was terrible because I didn’t want to be as clueless as him.

“So, you’re not engaged to Donovan?” Davis asked Shane.

“No.”

“And you’re not dating that other guy?”

“No.”

“Then what the hell is going on?”

I was wondering the same thing.

“Honestly, I have no fucking idea,” Shane laughed.

Davis shook his head. “This is too weird. I’m out of here.”

He grabbed his drink and left without so much as a backward glance or a goodbye—not that I cared. I was glad to see him leave and I didn’t want him to look at me after I’d just made a fool of myself. As soon as he was out of earshot, the table erupted into laughter.

“Oh, my God! That was epic!”

“I wish we had that on video!”

“The look on Donovan’s face!”

“The look on Shane’s face!”

“The look on Davis’ face!”

“No! The best was when Donovan tried to storm off while trying to keep his clothes on! I died!”

“Classic! But not as classic as Shane’s face when Donovan sat on his lap.”

“Or when Jordan showed up. I thought he was going to pass out.”

“Are you guys forgetting the best part? We’re engaged!”

The recap went on and on until, finally, I couldn’t take it anymore. I was confused and felt like shit, so sitting around while all of my friends laughed at my expense, wasn’t something I could do any longer. I stood and decided to go somewhere else.

I’d been sitting at the bar, alone and drinking water, when Shane sat next to me. He didn’t say anything nor could I look at him.

“I was only trying to help,” I offered after the silence had become unbearable.

“Oh, is that what you call that?” He laughed.

I glanced over and saw him smile at his beer. Happy to see him happy, I smiled down at my water, which caused my glasses to slide down my nose, again, so I took them off and twirled them the counter with my finger.

I chuckled.

“How was I supposed to know you recruited someone else?” I shook my head. “I made a total fool of myself.”

“There’s no way you could’ve known. Mostly, there was no reason for you to know because I didn’t ask for your help. And when I tried to set the record straight, you cut me off. He’s my boss, Donovan. He got me the biggest contract of my career and now, I look like a total fool. We’re supposed to work together for at least four years. How am I supposed to look at him again?”

He didn’t sound angry, but he wasn’t happy, either. I, on the other hand, felt attacked and when I feel attacked, I lash out.

“Well, sor-ry! I didn’t ask you to tell everyone I was a Tran with STD’s, but you did anyway!”

There was a moment of silence before Shane stood, abruptly pushing the stool back. I couldn’t bring myself to look at him, so I didn’t.

“You’re right, I fucked up. What am I at anyway, Donovan? You’re the one who likes to keep count. Seven strikes? Eight, maybe? Does it matter anymore? It might as well be seven hundred. Doesn’t matter what I do, it’s wrong.”

By the time I’d mustered the courage to look at him, he was back at the table with our friends. I felt like such a shitty person because he was right, I did keep track. I’d always made sure he knew how far behind he was, but actually, I was the one in last place. I crossed my arms on the bar and laid my head on them in defeat. I felt as though I dug myself a hole that was too deep and too wide to come back from.