Page 65 of The Boyfriend Gamble

IhummedasIenteredthe Mission City Recreation Complex.

Okay, I’m going to act cool. Last night wasn’t a complete disaster. He got off.

That’s something, right?

Well…the disconcerting silence all the way back to the party wasn’t a good sign.

Nor was him turning down your offer to drive and instead calling a cab.

Yeah. I’d been sober. He’d still been tipsy. And, because he’d known he’d be drinking, he hadn’t driven.

So…not a complete disaster.

But close to it.

I’d been in Mission City for exactly four weeks. I’d started working at Wally’s Gardening and Lawn Maintenance the day after I moved into my studio apartment.

Wally was awesome. Friendly to his employees, charming to the clients. Just a good guy.

We were in the off-season, what with winter being almost upon us. But snow was rare in Mission City, so he did maintenance pretty much year-round. To supplement my income, he introduced me to a nice woman named Taryn.

She was a tow-truck driver and also had snow removal equipment. She’d do the towing, and she asked me to do plowing.

I’d run a plow up north, so was good with that.

That was pretty damn cool, and I was excited about the first snowfall predicted tonight. This morning, though, I needed to focus on the court. And facing Cameron after last night.

“You’re a million miles away.” Frank Peter gave me an assessing look.

Right, he preferred FP. He was named after some long-distant, long-dead relative. “Hey, FP, how’s it going?”

He grinned. At twenty-two, he still had an air of being young with a touch of mischief. We were the same age, but I always felt much older. Probably because I’d been working the last four years, while he’d been studying sociology. He bopped me. “I had fun at the party last night? You? Did you—”

“Shush.” I gazed around. “Let’s not ever talk about that.”

He snickered. “I’m going to take that as ayes. Don’t worry, I can be discreet.”

Inwardly, I groaned. I didn’t see this man as being capable of discretion. But I didn’t have a choice.

“Oh, hey, Cameron, how’s it going? Didyouhave fun last night?” FP grinned like a loon.

Crap. Slowly, I turned to face Cameron.

He…didn’t look as bad as I’d expected. Of course, with his dark skin, it would be difficult to see if his skin was tinged green or sallow. Unlike me. My British heritage and fair skin left nothing to the imagination.

“Hello, FP. Hello, Jasper.”

Ah, so today he remembered my name.

Which meant he likely had a very clear memory of last night.

God knew, I did.

“Oh, everyone’s here.” Septimus Knight—who, for obvious reasons, went byKnight—stepped into our circle.

We made a bit of a ragtag bunch.

Knight was the eldest of the group at a mature thirty-seven. With longish dark-blond hair and deep-brown eyes, he appeared oddly roguish. He owned an architecture firm and had recently married his interior designer.

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