The Love Study Read online

  What happens when the search for the perfect date goes perfectly wrong?

  Declan has commitment issues. He’s been an office temp for literally years now, and his friends delight in telling people that he left his last boyfriend at the altar.

  And that’s all true. But he’s starting to think it’s time to start working on his issues. Maybe.

  When Declan meets Sidney—a popular nonbinary YouTuber with an advice show—an opportunity presents itself: as part of The Love Study, Declan will go on a series of dates arranged by Sidney and report back on how the date went in the next episode.

  The dates are…sort of blah. It’s not Sidney’s fault; the folks participating are (mostly) great people, but there’s no chemistry there. Maybe Declan’s just broken.

  Or maybe the problem is that the only person he’s feeling chemistry with is Sidney.

  Also available from Kris Ripper

  Rocky Fitzgerald

  One Dead Vampire

  Two Black Cats

  Queers of La Vista

  Gays of Our Lives

  The Butch and the Beautiful

  The Queer and the Restless

  One Life to Lose

  As La Vista Turns

  Scientific Method Universe

  Catalysts

  Unexpected Gifts

  Take Three Breaths

  Breaking Down

  Roller Coasters

  The Boyfriends Tie the Knot

  The Honeymoon

  Extremes

  Untrue

  The New Born Year

  Threshold of the Year

  Ring in the True

  Let Every New Year Find You

  Every New Beginning

  Surrender the Past

  Practice Makes Perfect

  Less Ordinary

  Kith and Kin

  New Halliday

  Fairy Tales

  The Spinner, the Shepherd, and the Leading Man

  The Real Life Build

  Take the Leap

  The Home Series

  Going Home

  Home Free

  Close to Home

  Home for the Holidays

  Little Red and Big Bad

  Bad Comes First

  Red Comes Second

  Erotic Gym

  Training Mac

  Teasing Mac

  Taking Mac

  Stand-alones

  Gun for Hire

  Fail Seven Times

  Runaway Road Trip

  The Ghost in the Penthouse

  Hold Fast

  The Love Study

  Kris Ripper

  Contents

  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

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Excerpt from Better Than People by Roan Parrish

  Blurb for Runaway Road Trip by Kris Ripper

  Chapter One

  Here’s how my friends describe me to new people: “This is Declan. He left his last boyfriend at the altar, so watch out.”

  It’s mostly a joke. Mostly. Not that I left my last boyfriend at the altar—that part’s definitely true. But watch out is just a playful warning. Besides, I swore off romance after that. No one really has to watch out for me.

  It was ages ago. The leaving-Mason-at-the-altar thing. The swearing-off-romance thing is ongoing. Though I guess “This is Declan. He swore off romance, so watch out” has less of a ring to it.

  Leaving your boyfriend at the altar is the kind of meltdown no one gives you the chance to grow out of. Six years later my friends are still merrily using that line at parties. Case in point: Ronnie and Mia’s Christmas recovery party, where the sparkling apple cider I was valiantly drinking in place of alcohol wasn’t even close to taking the edge off my mood. And that was before Mia grabbed my arm and whispered, “There’s someone I want you to meet, they’re new.”

  I love Mia, but she is absolutely one of those I found true love and now everyone else should too types. I had just opened my mouth to protest when I caught sight of The Only Human I Didn’t Already Know and shut it real fast.

  Average height, shoulder-length dirty blond hair, angular chin with a few spare whiskers, and red-framed glasses. Who on earth wears red-framed glasses? Were they one of those people who had multiple pairs and matched them to their outfits? But no, no red anywhere else, all the way down to their plain black shoes.

  Please don’t let them be one of those people who wears fashion glasses. I adjusted my prescription lenses and prepared to judge. If those frames were the real deal, though, I was already intrigued. Because seriously: who wears red-framed glasses? Maybe I shouldn’t be quite so quick to tell Mia off. She only had my best interests at heart, anyway. That and fulfilling her desire to play a romantic matching game with every human she knew.

  She leaned in. (Goody; gossip.) “They’ve only been in town a few months and I think they might be perfect for Mason. Don’t you? Not too tall, not too built. Smart, but not intimidating. They have a YouTube advice channel, so there’s no way Mason will feel inferior, right?”

  “Oh, burn.” I secretly loved it when lesbians got catty, but one must maintain appearances.

  “Hush, you know what I mean. He’s so sensitive about relationships.”

  The thing about that whole unfortunate leaving-Mason-at-the-altar fiasco was that Mia had been in the limo when I’d opened the door on the way to my own wedding, seen all those faces staring at me, panicked, watched Mason’s grin freeze (then wilt), and pulled back into the limo like a turtle into its shell. An effect I immediately ruined by crying dramatically, “Get me out of here!”

  I’ve done a lot of guilt for that moment, but I think for her own penance, Mia plans to fix Mason up with everyone she knows until one sticks...to his crotch. Or I guess his heart. Whatever. She’s gonna marry his ass off as soon as he falls in love with someone for longer than two hours.

  He’s weirdly commitment-averse for someone who desperately wants a partner. Can’t imagine why. Cough, cough.

  Now that we were close to The Only New Person in the Room, I could see that they were wearing prescription glasses. Damn. Mason arguably deserved first pick of the proverbial fish in the proverbial sea. It was an ethical principle. And I was an ethical man. I sighed and hoped this particular fish was... I didn’t quite wish they were awful. I just hoped they were awful for me, to save me the pain of wanting them only to watch them drift off with one of my best friends. To the altar. Where they would undoubtedly not leave anyone standing, ever, with a grin wilting on his face.

  “Sidney, this is Declan. He
left his last boyfriend at the altar, so watch out.” Mia beamed as if she hadn’t said this dozens, if not hundreds, of times before.

  I readied a perfect I am not an asshole expression and shook their hand. “It was years ago and I haven’t been anywhere near an altar since, I promise.”

  Sidney’s hand was cold, but their smile was warrrrrrm. “I’m not interested in altars, so you’re safe from the temptation. Good to meet you.”

  “Yeah, you too. You might be careful around Mia, here. She’s in a bit of a ‘fix everyone up’ phase since she got engaged.” So there, lady.

  Unfortunately Mia didn’t seem the least deterred. “It’s not fixing people up, it’s just introducing them. We have this friend Mason I think you’d really like.”

  “Why?”

  She blinked. “Why what?”

  “Why do you think I’d really like him?”

  “I guess because...he watches a lot of YouTube?” Mia, cheeks pink, continued quickly, “And he’s a lovely person, and you seem incredibly kind and well spoken, and—sorry, are you exclusively into women? Or nonbinary folks? Did I get that wrong?”

  I bit down on my tongue trying not to laugh.

  Sidney’s expression landed somewhere in the my, what a fascinating specimen you have here zone, but they didn’t look annoyed. Just detached. “I’m not exclusively into anyone, no. It’s more a skepticism about the process by which people decide other people would fit well together.” They shrugged. “I don’t mean to be rude, but I’m not looking to be set up with anyone.”

  “Totally get it and I’m sorry I assumed. Do you want to meet some people, though? Aside from the ones at work?” She nudged me. “We get together for drinks once a week. It’d be low pressure and more queers. If you’re...into that sort of thing.”

  This time I did laugh, then plastered both hands over my mouth.

  Sidney genuinely smiled. “I am into queer people, yes. Definitely. Drinks sound good. Thank you for inviting me.”

  “You’re so welcome! Ronnie will be thrilled too!”

  Ronnie and Mia were more or less joined at the hip. Not that I judged. Whatever makes people happy, right? Especially when they’re your friends.

  “Anyway, why don’t you two do phone numbers and Twitter things or whatever, and Dec, if you want to give Sidney Mason’s info too, that’d be great.” She waved. “I need to go check on food, but I’ll see you around.”

  They leveled a look at me. “She’s not going to let go of this setting me up thing, is she?”

  “Honestly, it’s been a year and a half since she and Ronnie decided to get married and we keep thinking she’s going to stop doing this, but so far she hasn’t.” My strong ethical principles forced me to add, “Anyway, everyone likes Mason. It’s a pretty safe bet that you will too, even if you don’t want to date him.”

  “I don’t date people.”

  That simplified matters. I hid my disappointment relief by forcing a laugh. “Oh, me neither. Mostly. Well. Not for a long time. I mean, it didn’t seem like I was mature enough after thinking I was going to get married and then freaking out? So I figured I’d stick to getting laid, since that was safer. Like...” I focused on the gentle sweep of their hair back from their face as if it would introduce a new topic of conversation. It didn’t.

  “See, that sentence seemed like it was going to be followed by another thought.” Their eyebrows very slightly inclined. Which I noticed because I was already staring at their face.

  “Um, sorry, I realized I was basically spilling my guts to a stranger. You are totally not obligated to listen to me ramble. Only my oldest friends are contractually bound to deal with me being a hot mess.” Cue self-deprecating smile.

  Sidney’s hands twitched outward, as if expressing a shrug without actually shrugging. “You don’t seem like a hot mess to me and I don’t feel obligated. What were you going to say?”

  What the hell. If Mia and Ronnie were folding them into The Friend Group (or at least having them audition), they’d probably end up seeing me pathetic eventually. “Just, for a long time my not-dating policy worked? But lately it’s kind of getting...old. I’m about to turn twenty-nine. And I’m not wigging about thirty or anything. But I am thinking maybe I should...at least try again. With the dating thing.” I wrinkled my nose. “Then I think that’s a horrible idea because oh my god where do you even start? Apps? Bars? I have no idea where people meet to date instead of hook up.”

  Their eyes were light brown behind their red-framed glasses and I felt a bit exposed under their gaze, like maybe the glasses had a filter that could read my thoughts. Right when I was starting to shift uncomfortably, they cleared their throat. “I have an idea. It might be a bit obscene, though.”

  I batted my eyelashes at them. “I enjoy the obscene.”

  “Would you be interested in coming on my YouTube channel? It’s an advice show. I do one livestream and one pre-taped show each week.”

  “Er...”

  “An interview would be cool, but what if we did a series? You could come on once a week and talk about your recent dating adventures. I could find you the dates if you wanted, since you’d be supplying me with content.” Now their hands sort of danced in explanation. “I get a huge volume of emails asking for advice, but the format gets old. This way we could combine direct dating experience with advice. And if you’re trying to get back into the dating thing anyway, maybe it’s two birds with one stone.”

  My brain flooded with words and images—everything from danger, Will Robinson to a vision of Sidney and I shaking hands for the camera at an awards show where we’d just won for “Spectacular Advances in Dating Advice”—but I couldn’t seem to speak.

  “Yeah, you’re right, it’s a terrible idea.” Their eyebrows were now a straight line behind their red frames. “Excuse my shameless desire to exploit your emotional turmoil for views. I was approached by this company that’s doing a thing I actually think...might be good? So I’ve been considering doing a sponsorship deal with them and this, um, slightly obscene idea might be perfect. If you...were interested. In retrospect, I think maybe ambition makes me a crummy human being.”

  “Oh, no, I didn’t... I didn’t think that at all. I mean, I guess yes on the exploiting thing, but that doesn’t bother me. I was more...processing.”

  “If it makes it any less gross, if I dated, I would absolutely mine my dating experiences for views.” They frowned. “Okay, no, that doesn’t make it less gross. Sorry. This is a nonideal first impression.”

  “I like your glasses,” I blurted. “Just, that was my first impression. Well, actually I thought, Those better not be fucking fashion glasses, and then when I saw they weren’t I was impressed. They look really good on you. Not everyone can pull off red frames.”

  “Oh. Um.” They straightened their shoulders. “Thank you. And I know, fashion glasses feel...slightly ableist somehow? I tend to overthink things, so maybe they’re harmless, but it feels a little weird that something I need in order to see is someone else’s sartorial accent.”

  “Exactly! Yes. That’s exactly it. But also I’m never saying that to anyone, because I don’t want to be an asshole cis white guy who makes shit about them.”

  “Agreed,” they said solemnly. “Let us never mention this to anyone else.”

  I held out my hand.

  They held out theirs.

  We shook in one sharp downward motion as if sealing the deal. I couldn’t help but note that their hand was no longer cold.

  “Please forget I even brought up my show? I feel like an ass for mentioning it.”

  I didn’t quite bat my eyelashes again, but I allowed a hint of flirtation into my voice. “That’s a little awkward since I was just going to ask you to tell me more about it.”

  They offered a rueful smile. I couldn’t tell if they’d picked up on my timid flirtation or not. “I
t’s called Your Spinster Uncle. I do a livestream each Monday and post a taped show on Fridays. People write or call in and I answer their questions.”

  “Like Dan Savage?”

  “More like Iron Man meets Professor McGonagall, teasing and stern. I do answer a lot of dating questions, but also a lot of family and school and work questions. More and more I answer a lot of...” They paused long enough for me to start brainstorming ways to salvage the conversation. Then they kind of sighed. “I think we have a distinct failure to address legitimate mental health issues in this country. I’m seeing more and more stuff that makes me wish people had free access to real therapy instead of schmucks on the internet.”

  I swallowed hard, taken by surprise. In the months following my derailed attempt at a wedding I’d gone to therapy. And it had helped. (Apparently the bit in the limo when we were driving away and I couldn’t breathe or speak and my heart was pounding so hard I thought it was going to break my rib cage was a panic attack. And I thought I’d just been wigging out like a baby.)

  Right, focusing. “Me too. I mean the thing about therapy. I’m not endorsing your assessment of yourself as a schmuck. I don’t know you that well yet.” I would have gone for a cheeky smile, but I didn’t quite have the levity to pull it off.

  “In the interests of, um, absolving my current schmucky-ness, that’s why I’m interested in this sponsorship. The company does therapy online so people in rural areas who need specialties not offered where they live have access to those services. Or even maybe you’re the only trans person your therapist has ever seen, so they probably won’t be able to meet your needs as effectively as someone who works with queer and trans people as a regular part of their practice. Ditto kinksters or people in polyamorous relationships.” They paused. “Um, I’m not trying to pressure you into it. Sorry. I just wanted to explain why you mentioned a very basic thing and I jumped on it and tried to seduce you into coming on my YouTube channel.”

  There was something so completely charming about their rambling speech. Also points for using the word “seduce.” I wasn’t not feeling seduced. What the hell. “I think we should do it. Your series idea. I mean, it can’t possibly make dating worse, right? And maybe it will help someone?”