The Best Men (The Best Men #1) Read Online Lauren Blakely

Categories Genre: Gay, GLBT, M-M Romance, Romance Tags Authors: Series: The Best Men Series by Lauren Blakely
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Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 107454 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 537(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 358(@300wpm)
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“Just fine. Sorry to make you worry. I’m calling to say thank you again for all you did for my wedding. And also to tell you that Hawaii is amazing and I never want to leave.”

“Okay, phew,” I say quietly. “I didn’t think you’d call me on your honeymoon.”

“I wanted to get a mani-pedi, so I sent Flip golfing.”

“Ah.” It all makes sense now.

“Mark, you were totally right about Flip. He told me that he always nods along with his mom, because it’s easier than fighting. And he said that he doesn’t want our child to be raised by boarding schools. And that he’d never assume anything without discussing it with me.”

“Well, I’m a genius, clearly. But mostly, that’s a relief for you.”

“Of course it is. You were right. How’s life at Disney?”

“Exhausting,” I admit. “I’m going to need a vacation after my vacation.”

“You get a few more days off after you get back, right?”

“Right,” I agree.

“Look, I made a decision—you need a rebound guy or gal.”

I snort. Are she and Valencia in cahoots? “That’s your decision, huh?”

“Yes,” she says, as if this weren’t a silly conversation. “Your split with Bridget was a year ago, Marky Mark. So you’re not allowed to feel sorry for yourself anymore. It’s a rule.”

“I don’t,” I insist. “I’m just too busy in New York to date.”

“What about hookups?” she presses.

“Hannah! I’m not going to discuss any of those with you.”

A sharp intake of breath tells me I’ve said too much. “Ooh! That means there’s something to discuss! Oh my God. This is great. Tell me everything.”

How the hell do I get into these situations? But my sister will pry it out of me eventually, so it’s best to confess. “I had a hookup. But then it ended.”

“With who?” she squeals.

“I believe that’s with whom.”

“Mark! Spill.”

I sit down on the edge of the tub and sigh. “It’s tricky,” I say, and then I cringe. Because that makes it sound clandestine. Like my hookup was with a cheater or something.

At least, that’s how it sounded to me. But maybe not to Hannah, because she yelps with glee. “Omigod, was it Asher St. James? Omigod!”

Is she a mind reader? Hope not. “Now hang on. Why did your mind go straight there?”

“Because he’s hot, in the first place. Like, superhot. Your words. And because you stared at him during my wedding lunch. And because you came back the other day from an ‘errand’ looking tousled.”

I drag a hand along the back of my neck. “What the hell happened to my poker face?”

She giggles. “Was it amazing? I bet it was. But, wow, did you know he’s moving to Paris?”

“I’m aware,” I mutter.

Her voice drops. “Uh-oh. It was that good, huh? You sound sad.”

“Maybe. A little.” It feels good to admit that to her.

“Oh, poor Mark.”

“No,” I argue. “Don’t say poor Mark. I’m fine. He doesn’t date, and it wouldn’t have worked. We’re too different.”

She’s quiet for a moment. “Honestly, I can picture you two together. You need someone spontaneous in your life. And he could use someone grounded. Someone . . . real.”

Huh. Is that what Asher got out of our fling? Maybe I wasn’t merely amusement.

“You know his ex-boyfriend dumped him, right? He called Asher a hot mess and bailed.”

She must mean Garrett. The one who called Asher a bad boyfriend. The dick who left him for another guy. Who’d ever leave Asher? “Yeah. He’s the fuckwad who’s getting married, right?”

“Someone has a strong opinion on Asher’s ex. And so do I. He didn’t deserve Asher. But now Asher is convinced that he’s not a great boyfriend.”

That tracks with what he told me in bed the morning after we slept together for the first time. I file away the added intel about Asher’s past to think about later. Or not. Because I don’t suspect his past romances even matter. “He lives in Paris now. So I guess we’ll never know.”

“Never say never. Isn’t that job only for a year?”

Like I haven’t thought that too. But those thoughts are too risky for a guy who nearly got his heart broken. “A year is a long time, Hannah. He’ll probably meet a French guy and they’ll go off and eat baguettes and brie together, and drink wine on the Pont des Arts.”

“Or not,” she says brightly, because she’s on her honeymoon, and the whole world is a happy place for her.

As it should be.

“Let’s just see what happens,” she says. “I have a good feeling about this.”

She’s the only one who does.

40

TROUBLE FOR TROLIVER

SEPTEMBER

ASHER

Nights like these are one of the many reasons I said yes to my dream job. An evening out with old friends, a good meal, a beautiful city.

And a great job. I’ve taken a million photos of athletes at work. Redefining FLI’s audience for a younger generation is our goal. And I can’t believe I get to be part of the project.



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