Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 78470 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 392(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78470 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 392(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
After barely escaping my last train wreck of a romance, I’ve got a new dating goal—play it cool.
I stick to that strategy when I meet a hunky Brit at a fundraiser and ask him to grab a drink. But he’s newly out and eager for all the things he’s never done, so he ups the ante with the wild suggestion that we jet off to the city of sin for a weekend, then say goodbye.
But instead, thanks to blackjack, a bet and some bourbon, we’re saying I do.
And in the morning I’m asking myself what the hell have I done? I can’t risk being the football player who’s also a playa. We’ll just undo the holy matrimony right this stinking second.
Except, the pics of our nuptials are splashed all over the Internet, and my agent says we need to stay Mister and Mister until the brouhaha blows over.
Thirty days as fake husbands with the charming Brit who’s determined to prove that he’s nothing like my ex?
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
PROLOGUE
MISTER CASUAL
Nate
Sure, I like to play the field—the one with grass and yard lines and goalposts.
The dating field?
Um, I’ve got a few questions.
How does it even work anymore? Do I know the latest lingo and, well, the moves?
Also, ahem, are most guys still into that thing?
C’mon. You know.
That thing.
Don’t make me spell it out.
I’ve been on the sidelines for the last three years—the equivalent of ten lifetimes in modern dating. But long enough to learn my lesson. Love can go wrong in a million ways but it almost always goes wrong.
Romance can fuck all the way off.
That ring? It’s in a dumpster somewhere. The marriage certificate? Shredded, right along with my heart.
I don’t want someone who promises to love me forever.
A rebound though? That sounds more my speed. If only I weren’t so rusty.
So I do what any pro baller does before a big game. I study the playbook. I review the moves. I get up to speed thanks to, well, the Internet.
Note to self: guys do still like that thing.
And when I’m ready, Dude Luck smiles on me the first time I venture out. I meet a guy who wants the same damn thing I do. He’s horny and he’s leaving town tonight. He’s perfect for this new me.
Just call me Mister Casual. But of course, that didn’t work out.
PROLOGUE
CAPTAIN EXPLORER
Hunter
It’s about time.
How long is a bloke supposed to wait to go after what he wants?
It’s been four endless months since Penny helped me sort myself out.
I’ve been counting the days since that final piece of me slid into place. The jigsaw puzzle was complete—I like guys too.
Cool, cool. Now I’d like to slide other pieces into other places.
But I’ve had terrible luck so far, and that means I’m about to climb the wall.
Because have you seen hot men?
Oh yes, Captain Sex Explorer is ready to start his brand-new journey any fucking second.
So when I meet a witty American hunk one afternoon, I’m determined to do whatever it takes to make him happen to me.
If only I didn’t have that damn flight to catch in the next few hours.
1
LAND OF THE BANGING
Nate
Yep.
That’s confirmed.
Everything works the same way.
Good to know after the last three years in the sex desert.
Standing at my kitchen counter with only a few minutes before I need to take off, I hit end on the video before anyone finishes. I close the window on that educational website, but there’s no need to clear my browser history since I live alone. After I shut my laptop, I crack my knuckles.
Today marks my return to the land of the living.
Or is it the land of the dating?
Land of the banging?
No clue what it’s called.
It’s aggravating that the thought of getting back out there makes my stomach drop like an amusement park ride. I play a dangerous game for a living in front of packed stadiums and millions more on TV, and I’m nervous about a dunk tank appearance in an hour?
Yes. Yes, I am.
Because there will be scores of hot, available guys at the carnival today. Obviously, I don’t expect any action—it’s a fundraiser for an LGBTQ charity, not a live-action Grindr simulation. Still, Jason sure knew how to rope me into this event. The dunk tank is the place to be for a single dude, he said. Just enjoy the view.
So that’s all today will be. Just some harmless looking.
I grab my keys and go. On the way out of my place in the Marina District, I drop on my shades, and then I head to nearby Crissy Field, determined to leave the past behind.
Time to step into the next phase of my life—totally single and only DTF. The thought of anything more sends spiders crawling up my back.
I shudder, shaking away horrifying memories of commitment gone wrong.
When I reach the fairgrounds, I spot Jason waiting outside the entrance. His arm is draped around Beck, and Beck’s showing him something on his phone.
The two lovebirds don’t even notice me as I walk closer. I clear my throat. “Don’t mind me, Jason. I’m just your teammate and buddy. You know, the one who encouraged you to go after Beck? Good to see you, Nate. Or should I call you Cupid? You’re so awesome, and thanks for making sure I got my man.”
Jason looks up with a wry smile. Beck throws a matching one my way. “I was showing him the cat cam,” Beck explains, waggling the phone.
I lift a curious brow. “Cat cam? I’ve really been out of the game for a while. Is this a new thing I need to know how to do?”
Jason scoffs, laughing too. Beck chuckles.
“Dude, we set up a camera in the living room. Taco chases his tail every morning. And he gets pissed if he can’t catch it. It’s hilarious,” Jason explains.
“One, that’s too cute. Two, fuck you for being too cute,” I say, though I’m happy for them. Even though love didn’t work out for me, I believe it’ll work out for my buddy—these two are couple goals.