Payback (Firsts and Forever Stories Book 10), page 1
PAYBACK
Firsts & Forever Stories Vol. 10
ALEXA LAND
U.S. Copyright 2023 by Alexa Land.
All rights reserved. No reproduction, copy or transmission in whole or in part of this publication is permitted without express written consent from the author.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either used fictitiously or are the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, business establishments or locales is purely coincidental.
This gay romance contains sexually explicit material.
It is intended for ADULTS ONLY.
Contents
Acknowledgments
1. Daniel
2. Daniel
3. Malcolm
4. Daniel
5. Malcolm
6. Daniel
7. Malcolm
8. Daniel
9. Malcolm
10. Malcolm
11. Daniel
12. Malcolm
13. Malcolm
14. Daniel
15. Daniel
16. Daniel
17. Malcolm
18. Daniel
19. Malcolm
20. Daniel
21. Daniel
Epilogue: Daniel
Acknowledgments
Thank you Ava, Kim, Melisha, Amy, and Valerie
I’m so grateful for your help!
Special thanks to Kendra M. for naming a new character
1
Daniel
Once upon a time, I had a boyfriend named Bradley Sterling.
He turned out to be a lying, cheating douchebag.
That’s where my story begins.
“You know, a lot of people get cheated on,” my friend and housemate Hal pointed out, as we both worked up a sweat on a pair of exercise bikes. “Me, for example. He broke my heart, and I’m still not over it, but it never occurred to me to seek revenge on my ex-boyfriend.”
“But maybe if you had, you wouldn’t still be carrying around that heartbreak. Revenge can be extremely cathartic.” I pedaled harder and pushed my damp, blond hair off my forehead.
“Yeah, but I’m worried you’re going to end up getting hurt if you go through with your plan.”
“That already happened. I caught my boyfriend balls deep inside his boss, and he fucking smirked and chastised me for taking so long to figure it out. I spent almost a year of my life with this guy and thought we’d probably get married, but in the end I was nothing but a joke to him. It’s not possible to be hurt more than I already was.”
“I’m sorry that happened to you, Daniel. It really is awful. But explain to me again how dating his dad is going to get back at your ex.”
“Brad totally failed to see my value. What better way to demonstrate exactly what he lost than by showing up on his dad’s arm, looking devastatingly handsome at that fancy, upcoming family wedding? It’s like, oh, you didn’t appreciate me? That’s okay, because your daddy does.”
Hal asked, “So, how far are you willing to take this? Is your goal to become Brad’s stepfather and spend his inheritance?”
I chuckled at that and shook my head. “I’m not that vindictive. All I want is to be Malcolm Sterling’s date to his sister’s wedding. But if Brad believes it’s more than that, even better.”
My friend slowed his pedaling and sat up straighter. “Wait, his dad is Malcolm Sterling? As in, the songwriter and composer?”
“You’ve heard of him?”
“He’s famous.”
“Kind of. I know he’s had a lot of success in his field, but composers and songwriters mostly work behind the scenes. They’re not exactly household names.”
“The first time I heard of him was when he won an award for a film score. He’s also written songs for some of the biggest names out there.” Hal leaned forward again, resting his arms on the handlebar as he pedaled faster. “It actually might be tough to get near him. Rich and famous people tend to be pretty cut off from the rest of society.”
“I have a plan for that.” Since I was starting to gasp for air, I asked, “When can we be done with these bikes?”
“I’ll be at this another half-hour. You can stop if you want to, though. And maybe you should, since you’re turning alarmingly red.”
I dramatically melted off the bike and landed spread-eagled on the gym floor. “As much as I wanted to keep up with you, it’s impossible. I bow down to your superior fitness and overall hotness.” Hal was a former model, and he worked out as hard now as he did when he got paid to look good. We’d already done an intense workout before hopping on the bikes, and my entire body was protesting.
“You need to go at your own pace and do what feels right to you.”
“What feels right to me is being a slug and never going to the gym. But if I want to make my ex regret his life choices, I need to look hot as fuck when I show up at that wedding. My skinny little spaghetti arms and chicken legs aren’t going to cut it.” A couple of people stepped over me on their way to the locker room, and as they shot me looks of disdain, I called, “Yes, that’s right, I’m workout road kill. I’m sorry if my lifeless corpse is an inconvenience to you.”
Hal ignored all of that and asked, “So, what’s your plan for getting close to Malcolm Sterling?”
I sat up and used the hem of my shirt to wipe my face. “He recently returned to San Francisco after spending the last couple of years in New York, and a friend of his who posts literally everything on social media is throwing him a big welcome home shindig. I plan to crash the party and shamelessly throw myself at him.”
“What if he doesn’t take the bait?”
“Why wouldn’t he?”
“Well, for starters, because you’re his son’s ex-boyfriend.”
“But he won’t know that,” I said. “Brad had some sort of falling out with his dad about a year ago. Since they were barely speaking during our entire relationship, it’s not like I would have come up in conversation. That’s also why I doubt Brad will be at the party.”
“Okay. But what if you’re not Malcolm’s type?”
I flashed my friend a smile. “Slutty and easy is everyone’s type.”
By the time we got home about an hour later, I could barely move. We both rented rooms in a funky pink Victorian near Delores Park, which was inhabited by a total of seven people. I loved the place and my housemates, but after that workout, I also hated every single stair leading from the sidewalk to the front door.
After a lot of grumbling, I managed to make it inside, where I collapsed in a heap on the couch. Meanwhile, Hal hurried upstairs to get ready for school.
He claimed he wasn’t seeking revenge on his ex, but he was wrong about that. He was just playing a different game than I was. His career-driven ex-boyfriend used to insinuate that Hal would never amount to anything, so Hal was proving him wrong by working his ass off to become a successful fashion designer—and success was definitely a form of revenge. Since revenge was also a great motivator, Hal was one of the busiest people I knew, between design school, an internship, and two jobs to pay his tuition.
Maybe fifteen minutes later, he came into the living room looking gorgeous in a fitted sweater, a short skirt, tights, and boots, all in black. No doubt about it, his Japanese dad and Colombian mom had ended up producing a stunningly beautiful human being. He had flawless skin, long, dark hair, and a willowy body that had graced countless runways. No wonder he’d been discovered by a model scout while he was still in high school.
He'd done well in the modeling world too, but his stuck-up ex hadn’t considered that a “real” career and had brushed off his achievements. It sounded to me like that jerk had constantly undermined my friend’s self-esteem, probably so Hal wouldn’t realize he could do a lot better than him. And somehow, after that guy cheated on him, Hal had been left with the message that he wasn’t enough.
Well over a year had passed since their breakup. In that time, Hal had left modeling behind and was slowly rebuilding his confidence. That was still a work-in-progress though, and when he nervously asked me if he looked alright, the vulnerability in his eyes made my heart hurt.
I sat up, despite protests from all of my major muscle groups, and assured him, “You look absolutely perfect. Is there something special happening at school today?”
“I have to get up in front of the class and give a presentation on my ideas for a spring collection. I’ve spent the last month working on it, and I really hope it’s good enough.”
“You’re going to crush it, Hal. The sketches you showed me last week were phenomenal.”
He turned his gaze to the area rug as he tucked a lock of hair behind his ear. “You should see the other students in this class, though. Some of them are unbelievably talented, and they’re only nineteen or twenty years old. It’s obvious they’ll end up being famous designers.”
“So, there are some talented fetuses in your class. So what? None of them are Hal Nakamura. And at the ripe old age of twenty-four, you have a huge advantage—life experience. You’ve been to New York fashion week, and Paris fashion week, and all sorts of other stuff.”
“Yeah, but I was there as a model, not a designer.”
“You were still there! You got to live it and soak it all in behind the scenes. The kids in your class would kill for that kind of experience.”
“I guess...”
“Thanks for saying that, Daniel. You’re a good friend. I’d better go, but I appreciate the pep talk.” He paused in the foyer to collect his large portfolio before heading out the door.
It was tempting to return to the couch, but instead I forced myself to climb the stairs and take a shower. Afterwards, I went to my room with a towel around my hips and glanced at my phone. I’d left it charging on the nightstand, and there was an automatic reminder on the screen from the calendar app. It said: Daniel and Brad’s One-Year Anniversary.
I felt like I’d been kicked in the gut.
Tears blurred my vision as I deleted the reminder. I climbed into bed, and after I found the little teddy bear I kept hidden under my pillow, I curled into a ball and clutched him to my chest. When I started sobbing, it shook my entire body, but I pressed a hand over my mouth to muffle the sound. I didn’t want my housemates to hear me, or they’d know how much I was hurting.
I’d made a real effort to get rid of everything that would remind me of my last relationship, but there were still things I’d missed, like that fucking app. Every time I stumbled across something like that, it felt like ripping open a wound and throwing salt in it.
It had been three weeks since I’d caught my boyfriend cheating on me. I kept replaying that moment over and over—seeing Brad’s smirk, and hearing the ridicule in his voice as he said, “Took you long enough to figure it out.” I was so tired of this perpetual misery.
If only I could be like Hal and channel my hurt and anger into something constructive, but I wasn’t there yet. For now, all I wanted was to shake up Brad’s perfect little world.
It was the only way to feel like I was the one in control for a change.
Once I accomplished that, I could get on with my life. I’d figure out how to put this behind me. I’d quit my job in the aftermath of all that turmoil, but I’d find a new one. I’d pick up the pieces of my shattered life and try to heal.
After a while, I sat up and scrubbed my eyes with the back of my hand. I’d shed enough tears over this, and now it was time for action. I climbed off the bed and straightened my posture.
There were things I needed to do, plans to set in motion. That welcome home party was tomorrow night. It was my only chance to convince Malcolm Sterling he needed me in his life—even if it was just for the next couple of weeks.
2
Daniel
Most of the next afternoon was spent primping. After getting a haircut, I came home and pressed my suit and shirt. That was followed by nearly an hour in the bathroom, where I douched, took a long shower, and shaved almost every inch of my body.
Some of that might not have been necessary, since sleeping with Malcolm Sterling tonight wasn’t actually part of the plan. If we ended up having sex, it was strictly because it felt right to both of us in the moment, not because I was trying to seduce him.
Besides, the goal here wasn’t to end up as yet another one-night stand. I’d had a million of those, and no doubt he had, too. Instead, I wanted to convince him to let me be his date to his sister’s wedding, which was only about two weeks away.
That was doable, right? I was still young and cute enough to be arm candy…wasn’t I?
As I paused to scrutinize myself in the bathroom mirror, doubts began to creep in. What was it about me that hadn’t been enough for my ex-boyfriend? What had caused him to cheat on me? Why hadn’t he—
I glared at my reflection and whispered, “Quit it.” I was letting Brad chip away at my self-confidence, which was the same thing Hal’s ex had done to him. Fuck that.
It wasn’t my fault that Brad had cheated on me. He’d done it because he was a prick who must have enjoyed the thrill of getting away with an affair right under my nose. He could have broken up with me, but instead, he chose to sneak around. It had probably made fucking his boss extra exciting, which meant I’d basically been his aphrodisiac. I shuddered as I left the bathroom.
I’d selected a gorgeous royal blue suit for the party, which I’d recently found at a consignment shop. All it had needed was an easy alteration to shorten the pants and sleeves, since I wasn’t the tallest guy out there. Now it fit perfectly. I paired it with a pink shirt that did nice things for my complexion, and finished the look with my best pair of loafers. Then I assessed the end result in the full-length mirror on my closet door.
This was truly the best I could do. I’d spent a long time debating going with something sexier and more casual, but this sent the right message. I looked successful, maybe even like I came from money, so hopefully I’d blend in at this soiree. The last thing I wanted was to draw the host’s attention and get kicked out in front of Malcolm Sterling and his snooty friends. Talk about humiliating.
I decided to check Instagram to see if there were any party updates, so I grabbed my phone. Of course, the host had already posted a bunch of photos with expensive bottles of champagne, hors d’oeuvres heaped with caviar, lavish floral arrangements, and the first few A-list guests to arrive. That was typical, since this guy loved nothing more than to show off.
The most recent photo was of a grand piano with the caption: Still waiting for our guest of honor, my good friend legendary composer #MalcolmSterling. When I clicked on the hashtag, dozens of photos of Malcolm popped up—none of which had been posted by him. He had a slight frown in every picture, as if he really didn’t want to be in front of a camera.
I zoomed in on one shot and studied him closely. He was undeniably handsome, with a dash of bohemian artist thrown in for good measure. His slightly curly, shoulder-length hair was in the process of going gray, and he had a short beard, which looked good on him. The fact that his tortoiseshell glasses had a bit of style to them made me think he was more self-aware than his all-black, somewhat wrinkled wardrobe might suggest. And I loved the fact that he and Brad didn’t even sort of look alike, because that would have been weird.
After pocketing my phone, wallet, and keys, I went downstairs and found my landladies drinking wine with some friends in the living room. Yolanda and JoJo introduced me to their guests, and a woman with very short purple hair told me, “That’s a nice suit.”
“Thanks.”
“Hot date?”
“Actually, I’m on my way to crash a party in Marin County, so I can hit on my ex-boyfriend’s dad.”
All six women absorbed that for a beat, and then the one with purple hair nodded and said, “Awesome. Good luck with that.”
It had been surprisingly easy to find the location of the party. All it took was a little digging through social media. The guy hosting the event had recently bought a big, flashy house in Sausalito, and he’d been vain enough to provide a link to the real estate listing, so everyone could see he’d dropped six-point-two million dollars on this place.
That listing had included the address, along with a floorplan and photos of all the rooms. Now, as I stood across the street and gathered my nerve, I frowned at the Georgian-style estate and thought of all the things I’d do with six-point-two million dollars, none of which involved buying a house that was clearly designed to show off.
The host had provided valet parking for his guests, but I’d decided it was best to park around the corner. My rusty, 1978 Fiat didn’t exactly sell the idea that I belonged with this crowd. When a car pulled up out front, I jogged across the street. Then I tried to follow the couple into the party, but there was a bodyguard with a guest list waiting at the gate to the fenced-off front yard.
