Page 139 of Clean Finish

“Kelly’s going to open a lane for us to play while we wait.”

I jumped out of my seat with a grin. “No shit? Shweet. I want to get some practice in so I’m not completely terrible when everyone else gets here.”

When I realised what I’d said, and how it could be related to another very specific situation, I flushed and gave Seb a wincing look. But he just huffed in amusement and ducked his head to kiss me, then passed me the smaller pair of shoes.

“I can teach you,” he said with a smirk as he sat down to pull his on.

My dick twitched. I was kind of glad my bowling shirt was too big for me, because at least it covered my crotch. Clearing my throat, I sat beside him and tugged off my boots.

“You are a great teacher.” I looked over at him with a shy grin. “Better boyfriend, though.”

An uncharacteristic blush stained his cheeks as he grinned back at me, then leaned in. I couldn’t stop smiling as he pressed his lips to mine.

Yeah. This was definitely what I wanted.

Chapter Forty

Holt’s Ball Hurlers

Seb

“Surprise!”

Holt jumped out of his skin as he and Taylor entered the bowling alley. “Jesus—fuck.”

As he clutched at his chest, trying to recover, Larkin peered frantically over to check out his outfit, using my arm to hoist himself higher and see over the wrestlers converging on the boss.

“Oh man, he actually looks good,” he grumbled. “Somehow. That thing is burning my retinas.”

I chuckled, sweeping my gaze over Holt’s outfit. A lime-green, loose fit suit that looked intentionally oversized, with wide lapels and big pockets. His hot pink shirt underneath was slightly sheer, and his usual black eye make-up was artfully smudged.

“Yeah,” I agreed. “He’s making it work.”

Holt still looked a little dazed as he turned toward his boyfriend and stared at him in shock. “You are so sneaky, babe. I did wonder why you really, really wanted to go bowling tonight.”

“I hope it’s okay that I organised this.” Taylor looked anxious. “I just wanted to do something nice for your birthday.”

Ignoring everyone around them, Holt cupped his face and drew him into a deep kiss. Until Gabe started wolf-whistling loudly, his custom bowling shirt completely unbuttoned to reveal his bare chest. Biff had at least made the effort to do up a couple of buttons—just one or two, though, so it was still pretty pointless.

Frank and Beans weren’t paying any attention, too busy skidding down their lane to hit each other with the pins. They were wearing their own miniature versions of the bowling shirts, but Beans had already managed to rip the sleeve of his, while Frank’s was missing two buttons.

Holt finally noticed that everyone was wearing custom bowling shirts and laughed when Dan spun around to proudly present the back, his head tucked under his arm. Val appeared from the bar and smacked Holt heartily on the back, jolting him forward, before pressing a cup of beer into his hand while Kit swooped down from above and managed to get the elastic of a party hat looped under Holt’s jaw.

When he saw Taylor putting his own hat on with a sheepish grin, Holt’s eyes flared with heat. He started leaning in to murmur something, but a strong feminine voice froze him in place.

“Holt, darling.”

His family had been sitting together by the bar, but now his mom was gliding over with his older sister just behind. Both were tall and willowy like Holt, and dressed elegantly—his mom, Camille, was wearing a champagne silk shirt tucked into high-waisted black pants, her black hair cropped into a severe bob. Her skin was a paler shade of grey compared to Holt’s. His sister, Amalie, was wearing a tan, wide-leg cami jumpsuit, her hair swept up into a chignon. Both had politely declined changing into their bowling shirts when Larkin and I offered them. Both had also politely declined actually bowling as well.

Fancy folk, as my mom would call them. They looked pretty out of place under the neon lights of the bowling alley, but they were relaxed and smiling.

“Mom.” Holt looked surprised to see them, but not unhappy.

“We were so pleased when Taylor called.” Camille’s perfectly shaped eyebrow rose, signalling that Holt had perhaps not yet told his mother about his new human boyfriend. “You never celebrate your birthday, darling. Your father’s sorry he couldn’t be here. He’s in Paris doing god knows what.”

Holt didn’t seem surprised or bothered that his dad wasn’t here as he dutifully tilted his cheek for his mom’s air kiss, then did the same when Amalie stepped forward.

He cleared his throat, wrapping an arm protectively around Taylor. “Well, uh… this is Taylor.”