1. Dylan

Dylan

Chapter one

(Present Day. Three weeks before the Pride Cruise)

"Are you serious?" my younger brother, Jules, squeals at me through the phone. "You've really been looking at apartments and houses here in Olivia Cove? This isn't a joke, right?"

"Nope, not a joke." I chuckle at my brother's excitement as I pad barefoot on the cold kitchen tile of my tiny San Francisco apartment. Olivia Cove might only be about six hours from here, but it feels more like a world away.

Damn, I miss my brother.

"I have an interview with a potential roommate today." I prop my phone in its holder so I can have my hands free to start prepping tonight's dinner. "Mind if we switch to video chat?"

"Sure."

Jules waves as soon as he sees me, causing his curls to fall into his face, curls that are so similar to mine. Only, where my curls are a natural sandy blond, Jules dyes his a bright fox red.

Tension leaves my shoulders and I feel a smile tug at my lips. He looks different. Good, just different. Happier. I've always been so protective of my little brother. Jules being eleven years younger than me probably doesn't help, either.

My brother was always the positive one growing up. Looking at life like it's a glass half full, but last year he struggled—all the while trying to keep it hidden from me. His best friend and roommate, Noah, had to break their lease unexpectedly, leaving my brother with all the bills. I still don't know the real reason why, but if I'd known, I would've loved to help Jules before things got out of control.

Noah and Jules had been roommates for years, ever since they left San Francisco together, and all throughout college.

Even though Jules is a responsible adult, apparently, Noah took it upon himself to organize all their bills and due dates. Which meant when Noah left, Jules was drowning in responsibilities he never took care of before.

Since then, Jules has settled down with an older man he'd been crushing on, has a new job, and a wonderful group of friends.

To say I'm conflicted is an understatement. A part of me is so happy that Jules has such a great life. My little brother deserves it. But on the flip side, I'm a little jealous. Isn't being in your twenties all about discovering who you are, partying, and being wild and free? Not that I did much partying in my twenties. Not while trying to help my mom support Jules.

Meanwhile, I'm over here working a job for an asshole boss in a constantly changing industry. The radio business isn't thriving like it used to. Instead of finding long-term solutions, the station is constantly in panic mode, throwing shit at the wall and seeing what sticks. Thank god I secretly started narrating audiobooks on the side.

My social life is non-existent. All my friends and family have moved away, and if I'm being honest, I'm lonely. I want to settle down. To find my person. I miss the companionship of coming home to someone, and having them fall asleep in my arms. And as messed up as it might sound, with both my brother and mother off living their own lives, I miss taking care of someone.

"It isn't anything set in stone yet," I continue, chopping and dicing onions and peppers as I talk. "But, I don't know. I feel like I need a change. Plus, I want to be closer to my little brother."

Another loud squeal has me laughing all over again.

"So tell me about this interview. Do you know the address? I want to look this place up," Jules says, fiddling with his phone so it's propped against something. Jules slides his laptop across his desk and flips it open. "Not that you could really go wrong with any place in Olivia Cove; all the houses and apartments in this town are nice. That's why it's on the pricier side."

I pull out the rest of the ingredients needed for a chicken tortilla soup recipe I've been craving, and rattle off the address before telling Jules about my potential roommate. "I don't know much about him. He called me once, two weeks ago, to see when I was available for an in person interview. When I explained that I currently live in SF, he told me he had a trip planned to the city, so we scheduled an interview for today."

"That's great," Jules says, still tapping on his laptop. "Did you know Google Maps has an image of the place online? This is so cool. And look." Jules flips the screen around.

I drop the chopped veggies into the Crock-Pot before leaning in. "What am I looking at?"

Jules points at the image he pulled up. "There's an orange tabby in the photo! You have a cute little cat in your neighborhood."

I chuckle. "Glad you approve."

We continue chatting while I finish prepping all my food. When I drop the last of my ingredients into the Crock-Pot and pour in some chicken broth, I fiddle with the setting to cook on low for four hours.

Finally, curiosity gets the best of me. "So…" I tap on the kitchen counter, avoiding eye contact. "How's Noah?"

Jules frowns, and I squirm under his gaze. "You know, you could always call him and ask for yourself."

"He's your best friend, Jules. I'm just making small talk," I lie.

He sighs. "It doesn't mean he can't be your friend, too."

The topic of Noah has always been a touchy one for me. Noah is nice enough, but there's something about him that just causes me to be on edge.

Maybe it's because he grew up on the nice side of town, while Mom and I struggled. Noah's family always seemed to have it easy. Not that it's a bad thing. And now that I'm older, I realize I can't judge the kid for the family he was born into. But then Noah came home last June, and I didn't like the way he broke his lease with Jules before ghosting my brother for about a month.

When I ran into Noah at the grocery store, he dodged me, causing me to grow suspicious. Then it happened again when I saw him at the gym. And again at the gas station. Pissed, I drove out to Noah's parents' house later that week, ready to give Noah a piece of my mind. Only, when he opened the door, my breath caught, as took in his lithe, lean form, his plush lips, and sparkling blue eyes. Up close, I could see how much Noah had grown up, and how attractive I suddenly found him. Thoughts I definitely shouldn't have entertained, especially since my girlfriend and I had only broken up earlier that morning.

Jules clears his throat, snapping me out of my memories.

"True," I reply slowly. But there's no way in hell I'm telling Jules how awkward things got between Noah and me. Especially not after that one night last summer. I shake my head. If Noah hasn't said anything to Jules, then I won't either.

I don't need one of my only two family members left mad at me.

"Anyway, there's something I wanted to talk to you about," Jules says. I don't miss the fact that he never actually answered my question about Noah.

Suddenly alert and afraid something is wrong, I pick up my phone and look at the screen. "Is everything okay?"

"Jeez. Yes, Dad." He rolls his eyes.

"Oh, hell no. No more joking that I'm your dad. Especially now that I know you have a Daddy who's older than me." I shudder as I pad over to my living room and sit on the white leather sofa.

Learning that my brother is into similar kinks as me was not something I ever expected to discover. Used to always hiding my kinky side from my family and work, it never even dawned on me that Jules could be into similar things. Only, instead of a submissive into pet play like him, I'm a Daddy.

"Remember that cruise I told you about a few months ago?" Jules asks.

"Yes. I'm still jealous. You don't know how badly I need a vacation."

"Come with us." Jules beams into the phone. "We have an extra ticket. Our friend had to drop out last minute, and we have six more days till we can change the name on the ticket."

My mouth falls open, excitement thrumming through me. I planned on quitting my job anyway, so could I just speed up that timeline and go on a much-needed vacation?

"Come with us," Jules repeats. "Technically, it's a kinky pride cruise, and it's probably going to be mostly men, but it's open to all genders. Who knows, maybe you'll meet someone. Even so, it's a free trip to paradise."

If the universe has ever given me a sign to confess to my brother that I'm not as straight as he thinks I am, this is it. I should just open my mouth and tell him, ‘I'm pansexual,' but the words never come. I've always wanted to tell him face-to-face. Don't ask me why I've always chickened out. And now that I know Jules is as kinky as me, I should probably admit this if we're going on a cruise together. At least that way I can avoid some of the same areas my brother decides to do a scene in.

"Give me a few days. Let me see what's going on with work. I want to make sure this roommate situation pans out first. I also need to put in my two weeks' notice at work, but if everything falls into place, I might be able to go."

"Make it happen, Dylan. I miss you. Plus, Cal and I have an extra room. You can stay with us if you don't get a place right away."

"Thanks, Jules."

"Anytime. Now go quit that horrible job of yours and get your ass down here."

I chuckle, feeling lighter than I have in years. Now, if only the universe would be gracious enough to give me another sign, telling me it's finally time to come out to my brother, then I'll do it the next time I see him in person.

The walk to the closest coffee house isn't far, not in my neighborhood. But to make things easier for the guy interviewing me, we decided to meet at a popular location at the bottom of the hill.

Walking this far isn't a problem, because I love exercise. My phone buzzes, and as soon as I see my boss's name flash across my screen, that good mood I've been in suddenly sours. It's my day off, but I swear Bob loves to interrupt any free time I have. Since the station insists that we be on call, I can't really ignore his calls, though it is tempting.

Faking a positive attitude, I place a smile on my face and brace myself before answering. "Hey there, Bob. What's up?"

"What's up? What's up? You did a shit job yesterday, Dylan. That's what's up," Bob barks into the phone.

The smile falls from my face. I pause my downhill trek and release a drawn-out sigh. "Bob, I tried telling you," I say through gritted teeth. "This current audience doesn't want to hear us talk about—"

"Don't fucking tell me what the listeners want. I've been in the damn radio business for over twenty years."

I roll my eyes. Twenty years, and you think he would be more open to figuring out who our proper target is. The younger generation has mostly jumped ship and listens to music through apps like Spotify or streaming radio. Hell, even audiobooks do better than radio nowadays.

So, of course our market should be aimed at older generations, seniors who just want to listen to something while gardening, cooking, or driving. But Bob never listens. The list of topics he wanted me to talk about was aimed at twenty-year-olds, people who don't even know how to turn on the radio.

Bob rambles on about how shitty I am at my job as I continue walking toward the coffee shop. My pace subconsciously picks up, wanting to meet my new roommate and quit this damn job already. I can only handle so much verbal abuse from a guy for so long. It's either my ego that takes the bruising, or I lose control and hit the guy for making my life a living hell for the past several years.

I'm almost to the bottom of the hill when he says his punching blow. "The station thinks you're a liability. You're washed out, Dylan. You hit that age where you just aren't connecting with the youth anymore. You don't deserve prime time anymore."

His words hit me in the chest, causing me to stumble. "I'm only thirty-five, for fuck's sake. I'm twenty years younger than you," I seethe.

"Regardless, the youth doesn't want to hear what you have to say—"

"What youth?" I growl. "Younger people aren't even listening to the radio. If you bothered to listen to what I've been trying to tell you, or hell, look at the damn statistics you'd realize the youth aren't listening."

"Exactly. Because they don't want to hear what you have to say. The station has hired a college kid with a real head on his shoulders. He's smart as hell and has a fancy degree. Now, don't worry," Bob says in a condescending tone. "We aren't firing you. A midnight spot opened up for you. The station will let you play whatever music you think might pull in late night listeners, and you'll have some talk time, but not much. Unfortunately, since it will mostly be music, there will be a big pay cut."

My blood boils. "I've been a part of this station for over a decade. I've sacrificed so much to get where I'm at. You need to take a long look in the mirror, Bob. You need to see just how toxic your words and delivery are. Because I can tell you, this new guy, if he's as smart and young as you say, he won't take the abuse you've aimed my way."

A thrill shoots through me at finally being able to stick up for myself. I used to need this job, but thanks to my audiobook career, my voice acting name has taken me far. It has sparked life back into me and given me a purpose. It's also made me realize how unhappy I've been in the rest of my life. It's why I want to be close to those I love and start living for myself again.

"Now you listen here, kid!" Bob roars. "How dare you talk to me like this, you little shit!"

"Funny how you keep calling me kid, when you were just saying how old I am."

"Doesn't erase the facts, Dylan. You're shit at your job and you should be lucky enough to even have a midnight show."

I scoff. The midnight show keeps opening up after people keep quitting. I don't know why they just don't save themselves money by playing pre-recorded tracks like the other channels do.

"If you spent any time doing your job properly, you'd—"

"I quit," I say in a low tone.

That causes Bob to pause. "Now, hold on a minute. You don't need to quit. We need you on that midnight show tonight."

"Tonight?" I laugh. "It's my day off. I specifically requested today off. Not to mention, I just did three double shifts in a row when that other young guy you hired failed to show up."

"Well, we need you on air tonight. We have a last-minute celebrity interview and they were only available at one in the morning."

Arriving at my destination, I walk inside, the aroma of brewing coffee easing my frayed nerves. My eyes immediately land on Remy, an attractive man with a full beard and a trendy haircut with buzzed sides. He waves at me and I smile, thankful we exchanged photos before the interview. I hold up a finger, indicating I'll be with him in a minute, and he nods.

"That's wonderful," I say with a new sense of excitement that is sure to piss him off. "I hope you can figure it all out in time. Goodbye, Bob." I end the call and use my phone to pull up an email from my drafts. I adjust the dates on my letter of resignation and send it off to HR.

Holy shit. I did it. I just quit my job.

Excitement rushes through me. I feel like I just took the first step toward reclaiming my life.

I make my way over to Remy's table. As I walk toward him, I can see he's studying me. The man is handsome, in a full beard, lumberjack kind of way. He even has the blue plaid shirt to match.

He stands as soon as I'm close. "You must be Dylan," he says as we shake hands. Remy's grip is firm, almost intimidating. He's about a half foot shorter than my six-foot-one, but he's definitely got me beat with muscles.

"Hey man," I reply. "Yes, I'm Dylan. Thanks for meeting me here. Let me order you a drink." I point at the menu behind him.

Remy turns in his seat and studies his options. "How about an iced latte, just to keep things simple?"

"Sure, one iced latte, coming up."

When I make it back to our table, coffees in hand, I pass Remy his drink and take the seat across from him.

"Thank you. Alright, Dylan, tell me about yourself."

So, I do. I spend the next twenty minutes chatting easily with the man, discussing house rules and expectations. He admits to eavesdropping a little, and I explain that I just quit my toxic job. I assure him I get paid full time for my voice acting career. And, somehow, I open up to Remy about wanting to be closer to my brother. About wanting to build a stronger relationship with him.

The whole time we chat, there's a small, friendly smile on Remy's face, but his gaze is intense. He doesn't break eye contact once. I get the impression that this man is dominant in all aspects of his life. He continues his line of questioning, and I answer as much as possible.

I'm shocked, and a little impressed at how thorough he is.

"I hope you don't mind if I ask, but why all the tough questions?"

His lips twitch. "Ah, you caught onto that."

"I'm not gonna lie," I say, chuckling. "I feel like I'm in a job interview."

Remy drinks from his straw, studying me. "Answer a few more questions for me first."

I nod, silently tapping my foot against the tile. Then I take a sip of my drink to help settle my nerves.

"Are you homophobic?"

I sputter and choke on my coffee. What the fuck? "No, of course not. I'm pan."

A little of the tension from Remy's shoulders drops. I didn't even realize he'd tensed up.

"Thank you for answering. I had no intention of making you come out to me, but I do have one more question. Are you transphobic?"

This time I shove my chair back, causing it to screech against the floor. "What the fuck? Of course not. Didn't I just say I'm pansexual?"

"Yeah, well, in my experience, not all bi, pan, or gay men respect a trans man. And my last roommate was not only an asshole, but a homophobic, transphobic prick, too. I had to learn it the hard way."

My eyes widen. "Fucking hell," I whisper. "That bastard. Are you okay?"

Remy's body relaxes at my reply. "Yes, thank you. I don't usually go around announcing my business, but I'm trans. I moved to Olivia Cove to start over and needed a sign from the cosmos to live my truth. Olivia Cove feels like that place for me. And the first step starts with finding the right roommate."

"I'm honored you trust me, Remy, and I promise, I'm that guy. Honestly, I feel like I need to live my truth as well. And that starts with my brother."

Remy stands, holding his hand out to shake again. "I like you Dylan. I think we're going to be good friends. It's about time we both live life like we were meant to."

Nodding, I stand and clasp his hand as we say our goodbyes. Remy's words hit me hard.

Maybe this is that sign I asked for. It's the universe giving me the little push I needed. I remember my brother's invitation, then smile when I realize I no longer have to answer to Bob or the radio station.

Pulling out my phone, I type a message to Jules and hit send.

Me: I'm in. Can't wait to see you. I have so much to tell you.

A kinky cruise to a tropical island sounds like the perfect place to rediscover myself.