The Bad Idea

Prologue

Aubrey

I hated Elijah Cruz.

We never got along, not even a little, but the thing that really ruined it between us happened two years ago, on my twenty-fifth birthday, at my grandpa's house. I was still fucking pissed about it.

Not that he ever liked me to begin with. Or my best friend, Todd. Eli hated us both from day one.

Plain and simple, Elijah Cruz was a selfish asshole who thought the world revolved around him. I loved reminding him that it fucking didn't.

Honestly, I never understood why he was part of our friend group. Why he got invited to the campouts, added to the group chat, or kept around for ten years. Ten years. And somehow, Gary hadn't kicked him out yet, even after the way he treated me and Todd.

All Eli ever did was try to get into everyone's pants. Mostly Wayne's. Now that I think about it, Eli only ended up in the group because he worked on Wayne's car for three months, pro bono. Guess he thought he'd get paid in other ways. That obviously never happened. Wayne wasn't into him. But Eli tried. And tried. Hilariously.

The thing was, Wayne only ever hooked up with Todd.

So maybe that's why Eli was glued to Wayne for a while, back when this all started. He must've thought hanging around would get him somewhere. It didn't.

More recently, though, Eli had been on a fucking rampage. It was like he'd picked me as his emotional punching bag. Lashing out, throwing jabs, and acting like it was my fault Wayne only had eyes for Todd.

My Todd.

The only man I'd ever truly loved, besides the man who raised me. But, if I was honest, Todd wasn't really mine anymore. He was Wayne's now.

While Eli was trying to get over Wayne and taking it out on me, I was busy trying to get over Todd.

The thing is, I was never Todd's type. That's why we weren't together. Sure, we had a two-week fling back in high school, but when someone tells you they're breaking up with you because you're "not their type," well, that shit stings.

At the time, I thought it meant I wasn't good enough in bed. Honestly, I don't think my confidence ever recovered.

Looking back, though, I get it now. Seeing all the guys Todd's hooked up with over the years, I see what he's into. And he was right. I was never it.

Wayne... Everyone, including fucking Elijah Cruz, was into him.

He was 6'4", built like a tank, with soulful brown eyes and an intricate tattoo dedicated to his mother on his left shoulder blade. He had a deep voice, was the strong silent type, and, to top it off, a southern accent straight out of Texas.

I was nothing like Wayne.

I wasn't from Texas. I was from LA. French Canadian roots, with "Aubrey" as my family name, which my parents thought would be cute but only made me sound like the poster child for masculinity issues. I was 5'7", vegan, and couldn't grow a beard if my life depended on it. Average brown hair, brown eyes. Not a scar or tattoo in sight.

Even with an hour of exercise every day, I was just scraping by on my physique.

I was obsessed with musicals and dance. I worked commercial acting gigs after high school because somehow, I was decent enough to book jobs. But it didn't pay the bills, so I worked part-time at a coffee shop. Energy drinks were my lifeline.

Most days, I dressed like a basic bitch, aside from my beat-up boots. And on weekends, I liked being half-naked, drenched in glitter, and dancing at gay clubs until 2 a.m.