“I also booked a suite at the Westin for Coachella. You need to come with me. Get away. Remember who you are. We weren’t bred to work this hard,” Blaine advised, crossing his arms over his chest even when Alec grabbed a fork and started for the kitchen table.
“You don’t work at all,” Alec reminded, setting the bowl on the table then going back for his glass of wine.
“Because of you, I do work very hard, and it’s incredibly stressful. I’m aging. Wrinkles are forming,” he said, getting a grin from Alec. Blaine shoved away from the stove and stepped around the kitchen counter. He didn’t sit at the table. Instead, he stood there, staring down at Alec.
His buddy was serious, and worried—he could tell. Alec just didn’t know how to ease Blaine’s concerns. These were the differences between them. Of course, Alec didn’t necessarily love his job, and hell no, he damn sure didn’t want that federal judge appointment, but he did want a normal life. He wanted normal things with normal people. Being a socialite, running fast and loose, had been fine when he was younger, but not now. At twenty-nine, he wanted a career, a home, a place to develop some roots. He loved being a prosecutor, battling it out both in and out of the courtroom. He liked cooking his own food, installing his own home gadgets. He just needed time to find his groove.
“Blaine, I’m living a normal life. My normal life—” Alec tried to explain until Blaine cut him off.
“You’re thinking this is all okay, but it’s not. You’re losing yourself and you’re losing me. I’ll miss you, I swear I will, but I miss me more.”
Alec stared at him, shoving a big bite of food in his mouth. He chewed, kicking out the chair across from him. “Sit down. You’re being dramatic,” he said with a full mouth.
“I’m being real. You’ve lived here a year and have no friends. You’re in this big house all alone all the damn time. Your best friend’s an automated voice from Amazon.” Finally, Blaine did take the seat, reaching for Alec’s bowl and his fork to take a bite. “It needs more sugar,” he said with his mouth full.
Alec just shook his head, grabbing the bowl back. “So, when’s Coachella this year?”
“Late April. I chose the second weekend to get the best room,” Blaine said, taking Alec’s napkin to wipe his mouth.
“I’ll go for the weekend, but I’ll need to be back by Monday,” he said, with most of his focus on the food. His friend was right—it did need more sugar. He wouldn’t scrimp on that ingredient the next time he made the meal.
“Alec! You’re killing me.”
Alec paused, his bite held midair as he glanced over at Blaine’s outburst. His buddy drained the last of his beer, his leg bouncing the whole time. Blaine had more to say. He was visibly holding himself back and that seemed fine to Alec.
“Look, you do this,” Blaine said, getting to his feet. “Be this soccer dad type who never dates, never leaves the house, becomes so sedate that you’re a bore. Keep doing it all to please a family that didn’t invite you to Aspen for the family ski trip again this year. Did you know the whole crew went? They were all there last week. Your sister shared the pictures on Instagram with her five million stupid followers. She wears makeup. That’s her only accomplishment. How the hell does she have five million followers?”
Alec said nothing, just continued staring. He blinked as Blaine’s targeted arrow hit the mark of his heart. A family trip to Aspen without him. Yeah, that hurt. Growing up, that was their one trip a year he loved. He hadn’t been invited since he turned sixteen years old and got caught kissing the ski instructor.
“I’m not doing this anymore, and I can’t watch you do it. You’re my best friend. We should be on a beach in Rio de Janeiro, thumbing our noses at our pretentious families with me falling in love with every man I see. You should not be cooking Asian food in McKinney fucking Texas while playing with your little Amazon product even though you have hundreds of unused smart features already integrated into your home that looks similar to every other house in this stupid state.”
Yeah, Blaine needed to go. Alec pushed the bowl away from him, staring at Blaine who glared right back at him. “See yourself out,” he finally said, his tone leaving no room for negotiation.
Alec shoved away from the table, left the kitchen, and headed to his bedroom. He heard the kitchen door slam shut just before he slammed his bedroom door, pacing the length of the room. He’d been happy today. Seriously in a good mood, lost in his little fantasy about the biker.