Gone for you wild side b.., p.1
Gone for You (Wild Side Book 1), page 1
GONE FOR YOU
A Wild Side Novel
RILEY HART
Copyright © 2017 by Riley Hart
Kindle Edition
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be used, reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval systems, without prior written permission of the author, except where permitted by law.
Published by:
Riley Hart
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to actual persons, living or dead is coincidental and not intended by the author.
All products/brand names mentioned are registered trademarks of their respective holders/companies.
Cover Design by X-Potion Designs
Cover Image by vishstudio
Edited by Flat Earth Editing. Proofread by Flat Earth Editing and Judy’s Proofreading.
Artwork by Sarah Jo Chreene
Dedication
For Andy. The idea for this book was born on our night out in West Hollywood. I might have gone overboard creating my own history from a story you told. I hope you enjoy seeing a romantic get his very own happily ever after.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Epilogue
Sneak Peek At Book Two
Sneak Peek At Prequel
Acknowledgement
About the Author
Other books by Riley Hart
PROLOGUE
Ten Years Earlier
“Jesus Christ, you’re staring at Matt like you’re gonna walk over there and start humping his leg any second.” Miles crossed his arms and looked at Oliver as though he was ridiculous.
“Or raise your leg and pee on him. You know, to mark your territory. Get your scent all over him so people know he belongs to you,” his friend Chance added because obviously, they thought Oliver needed both of their opinions. Chance winked a purple, eyeliner-traced eye at him.
“Only he doesn’t. Belong to him, I mean. Matt’s great but he belongs to whoever he thinks can get him what he wants, Oliver. It’s time you realize that. I—”
“That’s a little unfair, don’t you think?” Chance cut Miles off. Oliver’s eyes darted between his two friends as Chance continued, “You never know, maybe he harbors a ridiculous, secret crush on Oliver the same way Oliver does him.” Chance smiled at Oliver as though he’d done him some kind of favor. He hadn’t.
“Gee, thanks. I’ve always wanted to be called ridiculous by one of my best friends. You’re a pal. And I don’t have a secret crush on Matty—fuck you both very much.” He was lying his ass off, and they all knew it. He had an absurd crush on his friend he needed to get over.
Or do something about.
Chance and Miles let out boisterous laughter he could clearly hear over the loud music of the party. They were eighteen—not old enough to get into the clubs they wanted to go to but young enough to crave being drunk every chance they had. This was basically their weekly routine.
“You’re such a fucking liar,” Chance told him and yeah, he was the biggest fucking liar there was. He wanted Matt and had for years. He glanced at both men, Chance with his short hair dyed the same purple as his makeup. He had a baby face, round, with eyes full of mischief. Miles was the opposite, always brooding with his hard, square jawline and buzzed hair, his skin shades darker than Chance’s.
“I’m thinking about telling him tonight.” Oliver took a drink of his vodka with cranberry and orange juice, and an added dash of grenadine—a drink the group had named Morningstar after a night of too many of them—while he waited for his friends to lose their shit. Logically, he knew telling Matt he wanted him was dumb. Matty had never shown the slightest interest in him that way. Matt would hook up with any guy that walked but he’d never so much as given Oliver a second glance. It was a great ego booster.
“Go for it,” Chance said at the same time as Miles’s, “No…no, no, no. That’s a very bad idea, Oliver. Actually, it’s the worst idea you’ve ever had. It could be the worst idea anyone in the world has ever had.”
“What the fuck?” Oliver shoved him. “It can’t be that bad!” People had crushes on their friends all the time. It was one of the most popular tropes there was, and considering Oliver wanted to be a writer, he paid attention to that shit.
“Yes, it can,” Miles told him. Oliver looked at Chance, who nodded his head in agreement.
“You just told me to go for it!”
Chance exhausted him sometimes.
He shrugged in reply. “I wanted to be supportive.”
Jesus, he hated his friends. Oliver looked over at Matt again. He had his back against a wall, a cup in his hand while he talked to another man who stood beside him. Matt’s brown hair hung over his forehead, but he kept pushing it back. Even though he couldn’t see them from here, Oliver knew Matt’s eyes were this wild, almost seafoam green. He had long, dark lashes, really kissable lips, and dimples that brought Oliver to his knees.
Matt was fucking beautiful. Everyone who looked at Matt thought he was. Matt knew it too. It was a fact.
They’d known each other since they were about twelve, but they hadn’t been good friends at the time. Matt’s mom had worked for Oliver’s parents. She’d cleaned their house and sometimes cooked meals for them. Every once in a while, she’d brought Matt with her and he’d always looked fucking miserable—not that Oliver could blame him. Matt hadn’t gone to school with Oliver, Chance, and Miles. He’d lived on the other side of Los Angeles. It couldn’t have been fun for him to be there while his mom cleaned someone’s house.
He’d tried to get Matt to hang out with him but at first, Matt wanted none of it. Eventually, he’d come around. It had taken him longer to warm up to Chance and Miles, whom Oliver had known practically since the day he was born.
They were different…so fucking different, but their differences had never mattered to Oliver. Matt was his boy. Nothing would come between them. And hell, if Oliver had silently been in love with him for years, how did he know Matt didn’t feel the same? Maybe he’d kept it to himself too.
“You do know he plans to fuck that guy he’s talking to, don’t you?” Miles asked. He always put things out there like that. Brutal honesty was Miles’s thing, even if people sometimes thought it made him a dickhead.
“Well, maybe I’ll tell him and we’ll be fucking each other instead.” Or at least he’d get this heavy-ass weight off his chest. If it sucked him down any more he’d drown.
“He knows. You have to realize he already knows,” Miles added because apparently, he felt like it was a fun night to stab Oliver in the heart. Repeatedly.
“What? How could he know? He would have said something if he did.”
“Because everyone knows?” Chance asked. When Oliver looked at him, he held his hands in the air as though he was waving a white flag. “I’m just sayin’.”
Yeah, he really fucking hated his friends right now. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, guys. I appreciate it.” Oliver walked away, ready to find another drink.
The thing was, he’d been thinking about telling Matt for a while now. They’d just graduated high school a few days before. Their crew had their whole lives ahead of them. Matt and Oliver planned to get an apartment together for college. Oliver, Chance, and Miles were going to USC, and Matt was going to a local community college. Why not start off with a bang?
Oliver made his way to the kitchen and got another drink. He finished it, surprised that Miles and Chance hadn’t come to hunt him down. As soon as he stepped out of the busy room, he ran right into Matt’s chest. His friend’s arms reached out. His hands curled around Oliver’s biceps.
“Hey, man. I was looking for you,” Matt said.
“Where’s the guy you were talking to?”
Matt shrugged. “Eh, he wanted to hook up, but I wasn’t in the mood. Wanna go outside with me?”
Oliver’s heart went crazy, while he felt ridiculous for it at the same time. Maybe his friends hadn’t been so wrong calling him that. But the truth was, Matt just skipped out on a hookup to find him, and now he wanted to go talk.
Holy shit. What if he was right? What if Matt felt the same way he did, and he planned to tell Oliver tonight? They’d ride off into the sunset together—or you know, take a dirty, piss-scented bus through the city, same thing—before they went home, had wild,
“Earth to Oliver. You in there, boo?” Matt snapped his fingers in front of Oliver’s face.
He did that sometimes—spaced out—probably because he felt so much freer in his imagination than he did in reality. “Yeah, sure, yeah. Let’s go talk.” God, he sounded like an idiot.
Oliver followed Matt outside. It was still in the eighties out, even though it had to be close to midnight. He loved summer in LA—sunshine and warmth. It was perfect.
“Let’s sit,” Matt told him before sitting on the top step. Oliver went down beside him. “Are you having fun?”
Was it him or did he hear a slight shake in Matt’s voice? Plus, what the hell kind of question was that? Matt had never pulled him aside to ask him if he was having fun at something. “Um…yeah. Are you okay? You’re being weird.” He was acting nervous. Matt didn’t get nervous.
He nudged Oliver’s leg with his own. “I should have known you’d realize something was up. I…I gotta tell you something and it’s kind of hard to say.”
Oliver’s heart dropped to his feet. Holy fucking shit. Matt wanted him too. He knew it. That had to be it. What else would he be nervous about saying? “Come on, dude. You know you can tell me anything. I…I think I know what you’re going to say.”
Matt’s green eyes went wide. “You do?”
Oliver nodded.
“You’re okay with it? I don’t want anything to fuck up our friendship.”
Fuck you, Miles. Fuck you, Chance. He wants me. “Nothing would ever screw up our friendship. I love you, Matt.”
“Whew!” Matt let out a deep breath. “I’ve been losing my mind thinking about telling you. I mean, I know we swore we were going to get an apartment together but I just…I can’t wait to follow my dreams, ya know?”
Oliver’s gut clenched. That wasn’t what Matt was supposed to have said there. “Wait. What?”
“I already got the bus ticket and everything. New York Fucking City. I can’t believe it. My parents lost their minds when I told them, but I knew you’d understand.” Matt wrapped an arm around Oliver, pulled him close, and kissed his forehead. “I know it’s going to be hard. The guy who’s letting me stay with him—I met him online—said I only have a month, which is pretty fucking scary, but I’ve always wanted New York City. I’m thinking I can take a year off, write a bunch of music and then maybe get into the New York School for Music. My parents, they don’t get that. You’re my best friend, Oliver. I knew you’d have my back.”
Best friend. New York City. The guy who’s letting me stay with him. Matt was leaving. He was really fucking leaving. And he hadn’t told Oliver until now. He had plans, a place to stay, bought a bus ticket—all without telling Oliver.
They were supposed to get an apartment together, party, enjoy their fucking lives, and Matt was leaving? “Why didn’t you say anything earlier? I could have planned to go with you. We both could have planned to go to school out there instead. Maybe after a semester or something, I can transfer.”
He pulled away to look at Matt. The porch light shone on Matt’s face.…On the soft curve of his jaw, the roundness of his lips, and the dimple beneath his mouth. Jesus, he was fucking beautiful.
His brows pulled together and he darted his eyes away. Oliver realized like a punch to the gut that Matt didn’t want him to go. He hadn’t told him because he wanted to leave Oliver behind.
“I just…I wanna do it on my own, ya know? I want to take this adventure on my own to see if I can do it—without you fixing things for me.”
Oliver nodded, but he didn’t know. He really fucking didn’t.
Eight Years Earlier
Oliver’s professor gave him the evil eye as he snuck out of class early.
He shrugged but kept going. He couldn’t help it. Traffic was a bitch, and he needed to get his ass on the road so he wasn’t late to pick up Matty at LAX.
Oliver looked forward to visits from Matt. Oliver, Chance, and Miles still got together often. It wasn’t always easy, but they did it. With Matty being in New York, they were only able to meet up with him once a year. That was a whole hell of a lot more important to him than studying the Revolutionary War.
He’d missed Matt while he was away. It didn’t matter that they talked all the time. It wasn’t the same, and as much as he loved spending time with Chance and Miles, that wasn’t the same either.
Like he knew it would be, LA traffic was hell on Earth. It took longer than expected to get to the airport, but even with his stop to grab Matt his favorite coffee, he still made it before Matt’s flight landed. He’d planned ahead to give himself plenty of time.
Oliver had the whole week scheduled out. Matt would stay with him; they’d go to all their favorite places. He’d made sure to clear his week to spend much needed time reconnecting with his closest friend. They’d get together with Miles and Chance too, of course, but he hoped to get a lot of one-on-one time in as well. Maybe then he would be able to talk to Matt about school. It had been two years, and he wasn’t doing anything with his music. Oliver got it—shit like that was hard, but he knew how much Matt wanted to compose. Matt deserved to have his dream.
He finally made it into the airport, cold coffee in hand. He should have waited until after picking Matt up.
Oliver leaned against the wall. A good half hour passed before he saw the dark head of hair he would know anywhere. “Matty! Hey!” Oliver made his way through the crowd and toward his friend. Matt looked up and smiled the smile that nearly knocked him on his ass every time. Yeah, he was so totally fucked where Matt was concerned.
“Hey! Oliver!” Matt made his way to Oliver and pulled him into a hug. He smelled like cologne that Oliver didn’t recognize. Still, he held tight, happy to have his friend back, even if it was only for a week. “It’s good to see you,” Matt told him.
Oliver closed his eyes, held tighter and said, “It’s good to see you, too, Matty.”
When they pulled away, Oliver looked over to see a blond guy watching them. Um…what the fuck? Oliver was about to ask the guy if he had a problem when Matt glanced over and smiled at him. “Oliver, this is my friend Jeff. Jeff, this is Oliver, the guy I told you about.”
Oliver’s gut twisted. This was a new development. He’d never heard of Jeff but apparently, Jeff had heard of him. He sure as shit didn’t expect Jeff to be here—what? For the week with them?
“Hey, man. Nice to meet you.” Jeff held out his hand and an immature part of him wanted to ignore the man. But that wasn’t his style, so he gritted his teeth and held out his hand when he would much rather have punched the guy in his smiling face.
“Nice to meet you too.”
“Thanks for letting me crash your visit at the last minute. I appreciate you being willing to let me stay with you.”
It took everything inside Oliver not to whip around toward Matt and ask him what the fuck this was about. “Yeah. Sure. No problem,” he said between tight lips.
Jeff went to get his bag, and Matt wrapped an arm around him. “Thanks, Ollie. I knew you wouldn’t mind. Sorry I forgot to ask you. It’s okay, right? I mean, if not, Jeff and I can probably find a hotel or something…”
A hotel? What the fuck was that about? Matt was supposed to stay with him. “What? No, it’s fine. No problem.” Oliver’s muscles were tight as he spoke. His stomach rolled uncomfortably.
“Thanks. I appreciate it. I’ve been telling Jeff all about LA. He’s never been. I figured we could show him around, take him hiking and shit like that. It’ll be a blast. The more the merrier and all.”
Oliver tried not to groan. “Yeah, the more the merrier.” So much for one-on-one time with his best friend.
Six Years Earlier
Oliver was half-asleep when his phone rang. He rolled over in bed, eyes burning as he squinted so he could see. Jesus. It was three in the morning. Who the hell would be calling him this early?
He nearly knocked the phone off his nightstand before he managed to pick it up. When he did, he saw Matt’s name on the screen. “This better be good,” he said into the phone.
“It’s fucking fabulous is what it is. I just landed a modeling gig, Ollie. A good one. Can you believe it?”
