My Real Boyfriend

  When the front door opened and the guy standing there was dressed in nothing but his underwear, Gus somehow knew he would be in for a sizzling summer.

  Ed’s vacation means a Gold Coast apartment for the summer, but suffering from a social anxiety disorder he sees and speaks to nobody for the duration—other than his cousin Elmo, who’s a leech that he can’t seem to get rid of. For Ed, as a big-time author, summer means working on his next best seller.

  Summer vacation for Elmo means laying in the sun all day and partying hard all night until a bad batch of pills lands him in hospital.

  Gus, an American from North Carolina, is a male nurse at The Gold Coast Hospital. When a patient pleads with him to break the news of his hospitalisation to his cousin, Gus agrees.

  Opening his door to a stranger is almost a first for Ed. Hearing the visitor’s accent, before he so much as catches a glimpse of him, is enough to get Ed excited. When he does see him, he reckons that the guy is hot enough to make his hospital scrubs sizzle. Suddenly for Ed, the summer is looking up, while Gus wonders why the strange guy is answering his door dressed only in his underwear.

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  My Real Boyfriend

  Copyright © 2017 Val Francis

  ISBN: 978-1-4874-1099-5

  Cover art by Angela Waters

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.

  Published by eXtasy Books Inc or

  Devine Destinies, an imprint of eXtasy Books Inc

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  www.eXtasybooks.com or www.devinedestinies.com

  My Real Boyfriend

  Surf City

  By

  Val Francis

  Dedication

  A special thanks to Cassandra, Judy and Kerri for all their good advice. Once again, a special thank you to my partner, Maurice, for his support and putting up with me.

  My Real Boyfriend

  I gave him full marks for persistence. Fortunately, seven years of nursing had given me immunity to hot guys with inflated egos asking me out. They were invariably after the same thing, and I had no interest in one night stands. “It’s the same answer that I gave you last time, Elmo, and telling me what a cute American accent I have will alter nothing.” I spared him my opinion that he acted far too fem for my tastes, plus the non-negotiable fact that I didn’t date guys who partied on drugs.

  “Can you at least tell me when I’ll be released?” he whined.

  “Same as the last time you asked me. You’ll need to wait for the doctor. Anyway, why are you in such a rush to escape?”

  “Shit, I’m up from Sydney on summer vacation and meant to be having fun... you think I want to spend all my time in here?”

  Raising my eyebrows, I behaved unprofessionally by being judgemental. “You ought to have thought of that before taking those pills from some guy you didn’t even know.”

  Elmo smirked. “Don’t you ever have fun?”

  “If you call ending up in hospital fun, then no, I don’t.” I was rapidly losing my patience with him. I glanced at my watch. “Anyway, if you don’t mind, my shift ended five minutes ago.”

  Elmo suddenly appeared apologetic. “Sorry... what did you say your name was?”

  “Nurse McCauley,” I snapped. I just wanted to get home. Not that I had anything or anyone to rush home to.

  “No, tell me your first name.”

  “It’s Gus,” I admitted reluctantly.

  “Well, Gus... would you mind doing me a small favour?” he asked.

  “A favour?” I became immediately suspicious. “Specifically, what type of favour?” I asked.

  “I need to let my cousin know what happened. When I collapsed at the club, some prick took off with my phone, and it has all my numbers in it. Ed, my cousin, he’s leased this stunning apartment for the summer, and he’s letting me stay with him.”

  “So?” I had no idea where I fitted into this.

  “I’ve got to let him know where I am. Ed sort of worries a lot... too much.”

  Where do people get the idea that because I’m a nurse, my caring extends beyond the ward? “Give the police his details, and they’ll let him know.”

  “No, not the police.” Elmo reacted too quickly.

  “A problem?” My mind immediately thought drugs, that sort of stuff.

  “It’s not what you’re thinking, Gus.”

  I smiled. “How do you know, Elmo... you psychic or something?”

  “No, it’s your face, it kind of gives you away.”

  “Point taken.” I let it drop for a moment and then asked, “So... why not the police?”

  “Well...” Elmo hesitated. “Ed is a bit different and has trouble relating to people.”

  I thought about it for a moment, then said, “I’m sure the police would deal with it sensitively.”

  “The cops would freak him out.” Elmo shook his head. “I can think of one way that might work...” He shot me a beseeching look.

  It had to be against every rule in the book, which would no doubt be thrown at me if anyone found out. Bizarrely, Elmo’s suggestion had made sense at the time, enough sense for me to say yes without pausing long enough to engage my brain. So, now I stood imprisoned in a steel box being transported to the thirty-fifth level and Cousin Ed’s apartment. I was petrified of heights, and in my book, thirty-five floors rates as bloody high. I wanted somebody, anybody of sound mind to tell me why the hell I agreed to do this.

  With no sign of a bell, I knocked on the door—solid and impenetrable, the type that could bruise knuckles. When nobody answered, I felt relieved. But, as I decided to give up, it opened. I say “opened,” if a six-inch crack can be defined as open. So, I did what seemed obvious and talked to the crack.

  “Hi... am I speaking to Ed?” Nobody answered, so after almost a minute, I tried again. “My name is Gus. Elmo sent me.” Once more—nothing, and I began wondering if anybody was there.

  Suddenly, a pleasant sounding though extremely soft voice said, “Ok-k-kay.”

  Elmo had briefed me that his cousin Ed happened to be a bestselling writer of detective fiction. Nevertheless, I’d be forgiven for thinking that okay did not rate as a conversation starter. “Could you open the door a bit more?” Maybe the guy needed assurance that, despite my North Carolina accent, I was unlikely to ravage him without an invitation.

  Following another interminable wait, with nothing but a pair of eyes staring through a crack for company, I felt decidedly awkward and out of place. Hospital scrubs would never be the dress of choice in a mega dollar apartment complex like the one I currently stood in. As I considered beating a hasty retreat, the door finally swung open.

  Cousin Ed’s strange behaviour had me wondering what to expect. Perhaps a vampire might be on the cards? However, the sight that greeted me, while maybe a little bizarre, appeared far more welcoming than a
ny vampire.

  * * * *

  Opening my door to a stranger ought to be rated as a major achievement. While I was generally okay with people I already know, strangers terrified me. I had always been that way, and more than one psychiatrist had found my social anxiety disorder something of a challenge. In fact, meeting a psychiatrist for the first time was enough to frighten the bejesus out of me. One of them told me to try simplifying things instead of overthinking them, so now I just admitted to being no good with humanity in general, though I should add that I was okay with puppies.

  Discovering that Cousin Elmo had not arrived home with his nightly screw in tow, the knock on the door logically meant he had probably forgotten his security code. So, I went and answered it. My usual reaction on seeing a stranger would have been to slam the door and go and hide in the closet. But peeking through the gap, I caught sight of a beautiful face, and something inside told me I needed to talk to him at least once before I died.

  “You s-s-s-said Elmo sent you?” I whispered.

  “Yes... he’s in hospital... but you don’t have to worry.” Gus smiled as if to reassure me.

  If I stood there and simply let him talk for five whole minutes, I suspected an orgasm would be likely to occur with no outside assistance required. His voice matched his looks. Those hazel eyes, messed-up strawberry blond hair a little reminiscent of Prince Harry, and the most gorgeous pair of pouty lips I had ever imagined, merged to become pure perfection. This stranger, with his cute American accent, added up to a perfect package. Sadly, it would not take the services of Elmo to remind me that with this one I would be aiming way out of my league. Assuming I had a league to play in.

  “Would you like t-t-to c-come in?” I could not believe my lips had said that. The last thing on Earth Ed Munroe would do was to invite a total stranger into his apartment. A moment later, I shut the door and followed him inside. From behind, watching him walk, I deduced that underneath those shapeless hospital scrubs there existed a body to match his flawless head and thereby complete the perfection. “Your name w-w-was?” I asked him. I already knew the answer, but I needed to hear his voice again.

  He smiled and held out his hand. “Gus... Gus McCauley.”

  He wanted me to shake his hand, but I didn’t shake hands. Touching somebody else had never seemed right... until now. I stood there for maybe thirty seconds and watched as my hand, apparently on remote control, stretched outwards until our fingers touched. The moment his warm fingers engulfed mine, a tingling sensation worked its way from my hand up my arm and headed straight for my brain.

  “It’s nice to m-m-meet you, G-G-Gus.” My stuttering only occurred when the other person happened to be good looking, and I fancied them. No wonder I remained dateless and single—I mean, who in their right mind would date someone who stuttered their way through their pick-up lines? Not that I would go any place where there were strangers. “W-w-water?” I offered.

  “Sure, that would be nice, Ed.”

  I never expected him to follow me through to the kitchen and stand so close to me. By the time I put a glass up to the water dispenser tap, my hand had begun shaking. Inevitably, I sprayed water everywhere, flooding the kitchen floor and somehow getting Gus wet in the process.

  “Shit... s-s-sorry.” I immediately grabbed the washing-up cloth out of the sink and fell to my knees to sop up the mess. Gus had grabbed the tea towel and beaten me to it. Rather than being pissed off when half of the water had given his shoes and scrubs a bath, he laughed instead.

  “I don’t usually get on my knees to meet a guy the first time.” Gus winked at me.

  “I d-d-do stupid things when I g-g-get nervous,” I told him. Getting to my feet, I grabbed the tea towel out of his hand and tossed it into the sink.

  “Most of us do that, Ed.” He sounded genuine, and maybe he was, but my inherent fear warned me to be cautious.

  “There you are, G-G-Gus.” I had succeeded on my second attempt and handed him the glass. As he took it from me, I noticed his fingers. Now I know we all have fingers, but his were so long and slender that they unexpectedly led my thoughts in other directions, such as how they would feel if he ever used them to explore my body. Not that there would be any chance of it happening. Let’s face it, I would be the last guy on the planet Gus would want to do that with.

  Gus took a sip of his water and said, “Could I ask you a question, Ed?”

  Yes, I do believe in lust at first sight, and yes, you can do whatever you want with me... please! “S-s-sure, you can, Gus. I’ll answer any questions you want to th-th-throw at me... not literally, b-b-but...” At least my stuttering wasn’t so bad now, although my habit of rambling when I became nervous had apparently replaced it. “G-g-go ahead,” I told him.

  For a moment, Gus seemed uncomfortable and having second thoughts about what he was about to say. “Well...”

  “G-g-go on, G-Gus... ask away,” I urged him. “I’m an open book.”

  “I just wondered...” He gave a shrug. “If you usually answer the door to strangers when you are only wearing your underpants.”

  Perhaps it was simply a figment of my imagination, but I would swear on a mountain of Bibles that Gus’ eyes neither blinked or left my groin as he said it. I had simply forgotten to dress, and my panic combined with the laws of nature to decree that realisation would inevitably cause an erection. The shape inside the thin cotton protection that my underwear provided began to grow. “It’s hot in here,” I said.

  “The air conditioning not working, Ed?”

  “It’s when I write.” Even I had trouble believing my explanation.

  “Write? From what Elmo said, I thought you were on vacation.”

  “He’s on vacation... I w-w-write.” Gus looked confused. “I’d like to have fun, but I hate being around people and guys don’t f-f-fancy me anyway. So, apart from my cousin... I write when I’m on summer vacation.”

  “In a state of near nakedness?” Gus hadn’t attempted to hide his interest in the bulge, now fully extended inside my underwear and threatening to bust out of its confinement at any moment.

  “I’m like this because the aircon’s too noisy and I c-c-can’t concentrate.”

  “You could try opening your windows, letting some air in,” he suggested.

  “We’re on the thirty-fifth level, Gus. The wind could blow your socks off.” Even to me that sounded a stupid thing to say. Besides, as Gus had pointed out, my feet were lacking socks in the first place. “I c-c-could put some clothes on if this makes you uncomfortable?” Though making the offer, my personal preference would have been for Gus to join me in a state of naked bliss.

  “No, you’re perfect as you are... more than perfect, Ed.”

  * * * *

  The day my daddy entered American politics, he said to me, Gus, son, it would help my campaign best if you were nowhere to be seen. Not that my daddy is a bad guy, although we have had our fair share of run-ins over my sexuality. No, Daddy’s problem relates to his conservative platform, one that having an out and proud gay son would do nothing to enhance, not if he were to have any hope of winning. Luckily, having dual citizenship through Daddy’s first marriage, I headed down under to Australia and a new life. Two years on, though I was still single, I had a feeling that life might just be looking up for me. I mean, standing here in this kitchen with the most gorgeous blue-eyed guy I have ever met, a guy who just happens to be almost naked and exhibiting a mouth-watering erection, must rate as promising.

  “The fact is, it’s an incredibly hot summer, and clothes really are dispensable,” I told him. What the fuck was I saying?

  “I hate clothes, Gus. Sometimes I don’t wear anything at all... when it’s especially hot.” Ed gulped audibly.

  “Guess I feel the same, Ed. When I’m at home in my little apartment... naked is good.” There I went again. Shit, not only did I say that, but I waggled my eyebrows at the same time. Ten minutes after knocking on his door, I was giv
ing him the come on and suggesting to him in a not so subtle way, let’s both get naked and start exchanging bodily fluids. No wonder Daddy wanted me out of the picture, even if he did end up losing the election to a liberal.

  “Shall I tell you something, Gus?”

  Obviously, I gave him the go ahead to say whatever happened to be on his mind. The strange thing was, with Ed it felt as though I already knew him. Maybe wishful thinking? Any guy who could afford to rent an apartment like this was unlikely to have the remotest bit of interest in me. Though, if I could make a request, I would choose another apartment down on the first or second level as being far easier on my nerves. “Go ahead and tell me, Ed.” I expected him to say, “Get out of my apartment before I call the cops.”

  Ed huffed and gave every impression of a man already regretting what he was about to say. “Well, Gus... apart from my agent, airline check-in staff and Elmo, I don’t believe I’ve spoken to anyone in the past year.”

  “That is terrible.” I hated to sound as though I pitied him, but I could not help myself.

  “Not really, Gus. Having a social anxiety disorder means the absence of any strangers stands for safety in my book.”

  “But you’re not afraid of me, and we’ve only just met.” I grinned like an idiot to show him how safe I was. “You feel comfortable being almost naked around me... I could strip off if you think I should.”

  “You’d do that for me?” Ed’s voice had softened to the texture of marshmallow. “You barely know me, Gus.”

  “My daddy taught me to plan my life, create a roadmap for it... the same as he had and his daddy before him. Me... I’ve been finding the countryside on my map a bit too boring of late. Maybe the time has come to forget the map, and take a risk if it feels right.” I smiled nervously.