Whatever Comes First Read online
Table of Contents
Whatever Comes First
Book Details
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
About the Author
Whatever Comes First
M.K. LEE
Matthew isn't looking for a relationship. Ask him, and he'll say it's because between work and studying there's just no time. Ask his best friend, Sarah, and the story is a little different and involves a failed relationship that left him raw.
Enter Joel, a childhood friend of Sarah's recently back in the area. He's not looking for love, either, but he's not adverse to the idea of a little fun. Uncomplicated and on the same page: what could possibly go wrong?
Whatever Comes First
By M.K. Lee
Published by Less Than Three Press LLC
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner without written permission of the publisher, except for the purpose of reviews.
Edited by Laura Garland
Cover designed by Aisha Akeju
This book is a work of fiction and all names, characters, places, and incidents are fictional or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual people, places, or events is coincidental.
First Edition May 2018
Copyright © 2018 by M.K. Lee
Printed in the United States of America
Digital ISBN 9781684312856
Print ISBN 9781684313051
To D. S. for being my cheerleader extraordinaire
Chapter One
The warm buzz in Matthew's stomach speaks of it being a Friday night with several beers already in his system and nothing but an easy weekend ahead. The noise filtering over him from the rest of the people in the bar is light-hearted, where laughter drifts in from several directions and the constant clink of glass on table signals multitudes of relief that the working week is over.
Friday night means work night out for Matthew, with everyone from the team he works with leaving the office together to go to one of several bars on their favourite street around the corner from their building. This has been a tradition for as long as Matthew has been working for the company. As he looks around, Matthew is reminded of how very lucky he is to be working with a group of people that he gets on so well with, both in and outside of work.
In a rare lull of noise, Matthew hears his phone notifying him of a message, retrieving it in an awkward slide from his pocket. He frowns after a quick glance down at the screen.
"Who is it?" asks Simon over his shoulder, already jostled by Matthew's movement and now leaning heavily into his side, squinting to read the offending message for himself. Simon, one half of the sales team and Matthew's desk neighbour, makes grabby hands in the direction of the phone, which Matthew manages to keep just out of his reach. Matthew has long ago given up the idea of keeping anything private from his work colleagues. There have been far too many nights like this one and subsequent sheepish blushing Monday mornings following drunken fun between the lot of them for anything to be held sacred.
"Sarah," Matthew sighs, his heart dropping at the sorrow still obvious in the words of her message. It's been three weeks since she had been stood up and then broken up with by a boyfriend Matthew thinks she thought far too much of, and Sarah is still in mourning. Matthew, in his role as best friend for life, subsequently hurts when she hurts, rages when she rages, and offers shoulders to cry on and a lap to fall asleep in as she slowly puts herself back together.
"Still hung up on that dick, huh?" Simon asks, pulling back a little too quick and looking disoriented as he reaches for his glass. Matthew sighs out heavy in agreement and then reaches for his own. If he ever sees that dick again, Matthew grumbles to himself in fury, he's probably not going to be able to control either his tongue or his fists.
"Hey," Pete calls from across the table, slamming his hand down in a bid to get Matthew's undivided attention. "I'd happily help her out with that. Back on the horse and all that. Girl can ride me any time she likes."
Matthew scans Payroll Pete, giving him a rapid once over that is far too speedy for Pete to even suspect what he's doing. Not that Pete is really sober enough to actually notice, he realises with a quiet laugh to himself. Blond hair: check. Tattoos hidden beneath taut shirt sleeves: check. That kind of smile: also check. In appearance, Matthew acknowledges, Pete is actually Sarah's type. But he's too brash, too loud, too much for his best friend, not that Matthew would let him—or anyone—anywhere near her while she is vulnerable, without furious vetting first.
"God, me too. Any day of the week," adds Mel with a lewd drawl that has almost everyone at their table feeling like they need to adjust themselves. Mel has that effect on just about anyone: male, female, gay, straight, and everyone identifying in between—including many of the company's clients who hang up from Mel's sales pitches feeling verbally frisked but surprisingly happy about it. Matthew's colleagues have only met Sarah once, when she'd joined them for their Friday work night out a month or so ago. But since then, she has apparently appeared in the fantasies of both Mel and Pete numerous times. He's sort of used to it; there are several of his other friends, who, with ranging levels of tact, enquire after her every chance they get.
Matthew understands their interest completely even if he is a little biased because she is his closest friend. Sarah is stunning. A curly haired brunette with all the right curves, a smile that no one can help returning, and a laugh that is the perfect balance of angelic and sinful. On a couple of occasions when they have both found themselves single, they've shared some experimental evenings together where they've learned a thing or two about each other—and themselves in the process.
Which is kind of why he's not currently providing Sarah with what she's come to call a drunken comfort fuck. Matthew groans to himself at the reminder that what Sarah lacks in subtlety, she sure makes up for in bluntness for things like this. Sleeping together hasn't been something that's crossed either of their minds in months, not even when they've been blind drunk, which is generally the only way they've ended up sleeping together in the first place.
Matthew smiles to himself, getting some amusement out of planning on telling Sarah that she's clearly on the minds of at least a couple of his work friends. Although she's too broken to accept Pete's offer and would tactfully turn down Mel's, he knows the news will at least give her a little to smile about. He stores it up alongside other little fragments of news to tell her tomorrow night, which is what she's just messaged him about to confirm.
"I'll tell her," Matthew says to both Pete and Mel anyway out of politeness as he drains the last of his drink. One by one his colleagues follow his lead with noises being made about going for pizza before heading home. On the way out Matthew catches considering eyes looking him up and down with interest. The man's smile curving and catching a bottom lip between teeth with a look of want that lingers in his mind even as he sinks into his bed later that evening, giving him something to imagine as he slips his fingers into his boxers and gets himself off.
*~*~*
When Saturday night arrives, Matthew is relieved to see the stirring of Sarah's smile again. They are in their usual corner in a local pub where they've been coming to on and off since they first met during freshers week in college, which sometimes feels like a lifetime ago. And although it might not be as lively as some of their evenings out
have been in the past—not that either of them would describe themselves as lively—for this evening, it is just what they both need. Matthew is working part-time, playing football Tuesday nights, and attending a lecture that runs a little late into Thursday evenings on top of the studying that goes with it, and Sarah still getting over her heartbreak. It feels miraculous they're both so upbeat and having as much fun as they currently are.
"Sarah! Hey!"
Sarah and Matthew look up as one in the direction of the voice calling her, finding a wide smile and kind eyes on an attractive face that immediately has Matthew's attention. He watches as the guy waves an enthusiastic hand their way, taking the opportunity to look him over a little more thoroughly as he walks towards them. Tall, perhaps a couple of inches over his own height which puts the man at about six foot, with dark blond hair a little longer than Matthew's sandy-coloured hair, and a jawline darkened by stubble; it's enough of a reason for Matthew to sit a little straighter and square his shoulders in interest. The slight stretch of a navy shirt tight over arms and chest speaks of muscle, and the excited squeal of recognition beside him tells Matthew only good things, as Sarah leaps to her feet and throws her arms tight around the man's neck, clearly happy to see him.
"Joel," Sarah says with such warmth that Matthew is certain he wouldn't mind getting to know Joel himself. Sarah links her arm through Joel's and pulls him along to their table where she nestles him in between them both. The feel of a solid thigh and arm wedged in tight next to him—that happens to be attached to a blue-eyed, stubble-chinned man who's even more attractive up close—is never going to be something Matthew would object to. He suffers a mild fleeting stab of envy that perhaps this is a future boyfriend for Sarah, given the easy smiles between the two of them, but he then curses himself for it and presses back against the warmth by his side, pushing the thought from his mind.
As introductions are made, Matthew learns that Joel is a childhood friend of Sarah's that moved away from the area to go to university and has come home to start a new job as a laboratory quality manager in the coming week. Matthew has made this university town home after completing his undergraduate studies here and then taking a year off to travel. Whilst he'd been gone, Sarah had begun work as a computer programmer, so when Matthew had come back with nothing but a tan and a backpack there was a rent-free sofa to crash on until he sorted himself out. Within a month he'd found a job, found himself some more reasons to stick around the area, and aside from compulsory visits home for Christmas and the occasional birthday or other celebration, this is where Matthew found himself feeling like he should stick around.
As Joel and Sarah catch each other up, Matthew sits back from their conversation and allows his own thoughts to drift. Currently he works part-time to top up the bursary he gets for his studies having decided belatedly to get a Masters. He's doing well; he can even say he's content. But it's still a surprise sometimes that this is what he's doing with his life, when what he'd been considering doing at one point not all that long ago was running far and fast in order to escape the pain of the end of a relationship he'd told himself at the time was going to be it.
"Anyway," Matthew hears and tunes back in, eyes flitting between Joel and Sarah as he realises they've stopped speaking and are looking at him. "We're being rude here by monopolising the conversation. I want to hear more about Matthew," Joel announces, leaning into Matthew a little firmer, and damn if Matthew doesn't feel the tone of his voice when he speaks. His smile hits Matthew low in the gut along with the discreet, tentative circling of a thumb over his back just above the waistband of his jeans where his shirt has ridden up.
As the three of them huddle close and talk in the cramped pub corner, oblivious to anything that is going on around them, Matthew finds Joel pressing his leg firm against his—not that he minds. Alcohol is loosening both their limbs and sober sense of personal space as the evening progresses, and it leaves hands lingering friendly around shoulders and on arms, and fingers creeping with less and less restraint along thighs out of sight.
Sarah seems so happy this evening, Matthew thinks with a pleased smile as he accepts her draping arms around his neck with a quick squeeze before she heads off to the bar again. Sarah's touches are nothing but affectionate inebriation, but those shared between Matthew and Joel feel like they have a definite something behind them. Matthew tells himself not to read anything into it. He tries not to allow alcohol to give him courage that he would otherwise not have. But that doesn't stop him from wishing he was brave enough to slide his fingers a little higher up when Joel parts his thighs.
Joel, Matthew learns, was Sarah's first kiss, surprising to hear because he'd always assumed Sarah's first launch of herself at someone else would have been somewhere around the age of five—she is voracious for affection of any kind, and always has been, ever since he has known her. There is a mortified howl of laughter from Sarah as Joel embellishes the tale of her straddling his lap at the end of a music lesson one morning without warning and kissing the life out of him. Sarah has always been a straddler, then, Matthew thinks to himself with a snort, rolling his eyes in amusement.
"And that was that," Joel says with a wicked grin, leaning in and kissing Sarah on the cheek, smiling as she returns the kiss to his nose with half-drunken enthusiasm before she pulls back with a giggle.
"'That was that'?" Matthew finds himself repeating, an odd clench in his stomach as he watches the two of them, Joel very obviously giving Sarah all of this friendly attention whilst jostling his leg suggestively against his own.
"Yeah," Joel says, turning back to him with a spark of definite insinuation in his eyes that makes Matthew's throat catch, "that kiss was what made me realise I was gay."
Sarah's answering laugh becomes raucous, so much so that she ends up curled over the table giggling with Joel awkwardly patting her back, looking helplessly to Matthew for guidance. Matthew looks between the two of them and just shakes his head, laughing, knowing if Sarah's got herself a giggling fit there's nothing to do but wait it out. When Sarah finally looks up at them both, there are tears in her eyes that she's wiping away even between further peals of laughter that set them both off as well. It probably isn't half as funny as any of them are currently finding it, but alcohol has added humour—and courage—to everything this evening, which, Matthew thinks, is not a bad thing.
"It's funny you say that," Sarah says when she's pulled herself together, resting her hands on Joel's knees as she leans across him to give Matthew a kiss that he's not expecting but in his surprise doesn't quite pull away from in time. Joel looks at him with a curious raised eyebrow as Sarah pulls back, kissing Joel again on the forehead this time as she leans back past him. "Matthew here recently figured out he was bisexual,"
"Really?" There's immediate intent and interest loaded in Joel's question; Matthew feels a thrill curl in his stomach and a swell tighten his jeans.
"Really," he replies, swallowing repeatedly with nervous excitement, telling himself not to be thinking what he's thinking.
"How recent?" Joel asks, his gaze deliberately dropping to Matthew's lips before drifting up again to meet his eyes.
"Last year," Matthew replies, thinking back to the evening he and Sarah had been curled around each other on his sofa recovering from possibly the worst ever hangover, and the words he'd been saying to himself in secret since his early teens finally finding their way out. Anyone other than Sarah might have been offended since all that alcohol the night before had paved the way for them to end up in Matthew's bed. But given the way their friendship worked, the news was barely news, and the easy shrug of her shoulders had shown nothing but acceptance coupled with a smile that said it was something she already suspected.
After that night they'd even taken to scoping out each other's types, and it had been Sarah who'd spotted Matthew's first gay experiment, as she had put it at the time. There haven't been all that many since, but Matthew's glad he's truly himself now and not hiding any part of what m
akes him him.
"Really," Joel repeats, the look he's giving Matthew becoming a little heated.
"He's unattached," Sarah adds, leaning in to Joel's side and grinning at Matthew coquettishly around him.
"Unattached for a good reason," Matthew finds himself countering and then internally kicks himself for it. At Joel's silent question Matthew spins his tale of why he isn't looking for a relationship. He's working and studying a lot, he's cautious because a year in and bisexuality is still new to him, and aside from all of that to get to grips with, he's still raw from the relationship that ended a month or so prior to his revelation last year. To say it was a messy breakup for him is a belittling understatement, and sometimes he still finds himself staring at the walls of his once-shared apartment questioning what he is doing with his life.
Joel shrugs and the ease of it breaks Matthew's brief moment of lost focus, using very precise words that reveal he too is not wanting much of an attachment himself. He's back in the area starting new work, looking to settle in more than settle down. It doesn't mean he can't make time for a little fun though, however, is a point he makes very, very clear.
"You should," Sarah insists with an insinuating glance between the two of them, a spark in her eyes that tells both Matthew and Joel exactly how much she approves of the idea. The alcohol may be cheering him on, but in principle Matthew has absolutely no objection. No strings attached with a not-unattractive man and he's finding less and less reason not to let his imagination wander—and his hands.
"So you two have never..." Joel asks the inevitable without needing to finish the actual question. They both shrug, explain the comfort they've occasionally sought from each other, and how since Matthew's opened up about his sexuality they haven't even come close to doing that again. Sarah gleefully reiterates how good it would be for Joel to replace her in Matthew's sometimes bed; Matthew's not drunk enough to avoid a wince at the way she seems to make it all sound so very sordid, but Joel at least appears to be nonplussed.