Making It Fit

By Ian O. Lewis and Luke Jameson

“It’s wrong to claim Victor, but it feels so right.”

When my best friend on the force Federico was killed in the line of duty, I swore to him as he died in my arms, I would take care of his baby brother, Victor.
I never went back on my word.
When Victor moved back to our hometown after college, he needed a place to stay. The kid was going to live next door to a crack house in a bad part of town, but I knew his older brother would haunt me if I allowed that to happen, so I demanded he move into my spare bedroom.
When he showed up on my doorstep, his transformation from an awkward teenager to a striking young man floored me. Victor was everything I had ever wanted—smart, smoking hot, and innocent—but there was no way he could handle a rough around the edges cop like me.
I kept my paws to myself, until one day Victor told me he had never been with another man before. He wanted advice on how to get a boyfriend, and how to keep him.
That broke me.
I’d show Victor how to please a man, all right.
Me.

Making it Fit is the first book in The Making It Series, and it is trope heaven. Roommates, fake boyfriend, opposites attract, first time experience, cops, older/younger, and my favorite, love at first sight. This scorching novella will make your ereader sizzle, and your heart melt.

• Language: English
• Publisher: SS Publishing
• Release date: Jan 31, 2021
• ISBN: 9781005168995

Ian O. Lewis

Ian O. Lewis is the bestselling author of The Boys of Oregon Hill series and other LGBT novels.

Book preview

Prologue

Victor

I’m a failure.

My head fell back against the wall behind my bed. 

Ouch. I winced, then rubbed it, feeling it start to swell. It wasn’t even a proper bed, just a mattress on the floor. There were three other mattresses in the bedroom that belonged to guys I didn’t really know. It was a miracle I was alone, considering eight people were crammed into this two-bedroom apartment. 

New York ain’t cheap. I sighed, then glanced down at the phone lying next to me. Which is why you have to go home. 

I’d spent the last hour mustering up the courage to call Chad. He was my dead brother’s best friend and the closest thing I had to a family. I hadn’t seen him in five years, but we texted all the time.

There’s no one here, so if you’re going to do it, you’d better get it over with.

I snatched up the phone to make the call, but the knot in the pit of my stomach pulsed. Stop being afraid, damn it. Chad won’t be angry. I sighed, then flipped through my contacts until I found his name. But he will be disappointed in me. 

I’d moved to New York City five years ago to become an actor. When my brother died in the line of duty, I was the beneficiary of his life insurance. It had paid for my acting degree, with enough left over to see me through two years of auditioning for work. But I’d underestimated how pricey living in the city was, and I still hadn’t found an acting gig. So I was cutting my losses and going home.

I heard something in the other room drop to the floor.

Shit. I muttered. I didn’t want my roommates to know I was moving out yet. Not that they would care, I was easily replaced. But I preferred keeping my business to myself. Call him now, before someone comes in here.

My index finger shook as I placed the call. Normally we didn’t speak on the phone, but this turn of events required more than a few emojis and LOLs. Chad answered on the second ring.

What’s wrong? His deep voice rumbled, and I felt a shiver race down my spine. I opened my mouth to speak, but nothing came out.

Victor, talk to me. What’s going on?

I sighed and felt my heart racing in my chest. Chad was more than my brother’s best friend. He was my walking, talking, macho-man fantasy come to life. I’d had a crush on him since my brother Federico introduced me to his partner on the police force. Back then I’d been a chubby thirteen-year-old with zits, and an awakening knowledge that I wasn’t like most of the other boys my age. At the time, I didn’t have the words to describe how Chad made me feel. All I knew was I wanted to spend as much time as I could in the presence of my big brother’s buddy.

Look kid, you never want to talk on the phone, so I know there’s something going on. Now spill it. Chad ordered. 

I’m moving back to Richmond, I said, then felt a pressure building up behind my eyes. I had failed and was returning home with my tail between my legs.

About fucking time, Chad muttered, then he grunted. Sorry, I mean, you know, it’s hard for me to look after you when you’re so far away.

I’m twenty-three years old, Chad. You don’t have to look…

The hell I don’t. Fede would spin in his grave if anything happened to you. I heard a can popping open, then he continued. Do you need a place to stay?

I imagined him standing in his kitchen, no shirt on, sweat dripping off him while drinking a cold beer. Fuck me, I whispered.

What was that?

Oh, sorry Chad. Um, no. I already found a place. I just thought you might want to know I was going to be back in town. 

Where?

I found it online, one of those apartment websites. Hold on. I placed the phone down and grabbed my backpack off the floor next to me. A minute later, my laptop was open to the realtor’s page. It’s on the Northside, in a neighborhood called Barton Heights. 

Gimme the street address. Chad barked.

You know Chad, I can take care of…

Gimme the street address now. 

The hair on the back of my neck stood up. I read it off for him, wondering what his problem was. It wasn’t a great apartment, but it was all I could afford.

You’re not fucking living there.

I know he had my best interests at heart, but who the hell did he think he was bossing me around like that? I’d lived in New York for years on my own, and could take care of myself. 

Chad, c’mon, it’s not an awful place, and it’s only $800 a month. I can’t afford to spend…

You can’t afford to get shot. That apartment building is next door to a crackhouse. I’m there at least once a week, and there’s usually an ambulance following behind me. Chad sighed, then resumed speaking in a calmer tone. Have you signed anything yet? Paid them a deposit?

No, I muttered, clenching my fist. You know I’m not a kid anymore.

Well, you sure are acting like one. Why the hell didn’t you call… look, as long as you haven’t signed a lease, you are fine. 

I heard a siren in the distance, and couldn’t tell if it was coming from Chad’s line or if it was here in my neighborhood, Bushwick. Then I remembered the other reason I’d moved to New York, besides acting. I used to have nightmares about Fede’s death, and when I realized Chad could be killed too, I couldn’t handle being close to him any longer. 

Everything else in Richmond is expensive. It was the only place I could find that I could afford. Shit, I had scoured the internet trying to find a good deal on a place but had found nothing.

You’re staying with me.

No, I can’t do that, Chad. It’s…

That wasn’t a request, Chad stated, then neither of us said anything for a moment. Do you need me to come get you? I can rent a van and drive up there. 

No, you don’t have to do that. I have nothing except a trunk of clothes and my backpack. I ran my fingers through my hair and realized I had just agreed to stay with him. Look, Chad, this is only temporary. As soon as I find a decent job and…

You will stay with me until you are ready to move on. Understood? Chad’s baritone growled into the phone. My heart skipped a beat, and without thinking, I replied.

Yes, sir.

Chapter One

Chad

Do you need help assembling the bed? One of the furniture delivery men asked. He had the glazed-over look of someone absolutely exhausted. I could handle it myself.

No, thanks, I replied. Let me sign your paperwork so you can get out of here. 

After I showed the men out, I returned to my spare bedroom and leaned against a pale blue wall. It was Victor’s room before he left for New York. He’d only stayed here for six months after Fede’s death, and after he left I’d turned it into a home gym. Now it was going to be Victor’s once again, and I wanted the kid to feel comfortable here. Over the last couple of weeks, I’d moved the weights and treadmill to the garage and filled it with brand new furniture.

I put my face in my hands and sighed. Life’s been rough for both of us. This needs to be a proper home for you, Victor. I picked up a photo of Fede in uniform that I’d had framed. It had been lying face down on the small, wooden desk I’d bought for Victor and wondered where to hang it. Fuck it. Victor can decide when he gets here. I sat on the corner of the desk and thought back to when Victor had first moved in.

Understandably, Victor was standoffish after his brother’s death. Though I did what I could to make him feel at home, I could tell his mind and his heart was elsewhere. The six months after a street thug killed Fede were the worst. I was grieving for my best friend and trying to be strong for his baby brother. Emotions, especially intense ones, were not my strong suit. I’d always wondered if I had driven young Victor away, that I hadn’t been supportive enough. 

Victor’s grandparents tried convincing the kid to move to Mexico and make a fresh start. They had a small villa outside of Guadalajara, and the pictures I’d seen of it were stunning. To my surprise, he’d refused. Victor barely knew his grandparents since he was born in the US. He didn’t know Spanish, and Richmond was the only home he’d ever known. 

So, Victor stayed in this room, not speaking to me or anyone else. When he announced his intention to go to acting school in New York, I’d tried to talk him out of it. But he was eighteen years old and determined to make his own way. Coupled with a hefty life insurance payment, Victor refused to be held back.

You might be a quiet kid, but you're stubborn as an ox. I laughed, remembering the dead-set look in his eyes. Once his mind was set on something, there was no changing it.

Victor had been the opposite of his older brother. Fede was outgoing, a determined cop who only wanted to protect and serve. When he wasn’t on duty, you would find Fede on the basketball court, or at the gym. His smile lit up any room he entered, and more than once I’d had to remind myself that Fede was off-limits.

First, he was my partner on the force, and anything beyond friendship could degrade the trust we needed to do our jobs. Second, the man was seriously into chicks. If a skirt walked by, his eyes naturally followed. He had known I was gay, but it had never been an issue. I’d come out to him a few weeks after they assigned us to work together. He’d shrugged his shoulders, and then we’d gone out for a beer. Little did I know he wanted my help with Victor.

Over drinks, Fede confessed that he thought his younger brother might be gay. He knew it was a tough road to travel and wondered if I would befriend the kid. I agreed, and the bond between Fede and I grew deeper. When Fede introduced me to Victor, the kid had greasy teenage skin and thick-framed black glasses.

His awkwardness was contagious, and the first few times I tried speaking to him were filled with uncomfortable silences. He always had a book in one hand, or his phone, and wouldn’t meet my gaze. Though Victor was never much of a talker, we became close. Victor would hover around me and Fede, silent but always watching.

What would life be like if you hadn’t been shot, Fede? I wondered aloud, my voice echoing slightly in the near-empty room. 

Victor and Fede’s parents had died in a car crash a few years prior to our meeting, and Fede had become Victor’s guardian. Like being a cop, Fede took the job of raising his brother seriously. He always made sure the kid went to school, got good grades, and kept him out of trouble. The only thing Fede worried about was how withdrawn Victor was. No dates, no real friends to speak