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Gunner rose smoothly to his feet, and their gazes met. And it was all there again, hanging between them. The desperation. The attraction. And the betrayal. Oh God. The betrayal.
Chapter Three
WHAT THEhell was he doing here with Chas? He knew the guy was his personal kryptonite. He shouldn’t have picked up that call. No, he should have stayed far, far away from Misty Falls. Even briefly driving through town had been painful. So many damned memories flooding back. Memories he emphatically did not care to stir up.
The parking lot outside was perfectly still, but he watched it cautiously nonetheless. Chas had disappeared into the bathroom a little while ago, mumbling that he needed to wash off the blood. The bathroom door opened behind Gunner, and he glanced over his shoulder at—
No shirt. He wasn’t wearing a fucking shirt. And that perfect torso was still fucking perfect. Chas ran to the lean side, but that didn’t stop him from having sharply cut muscles. He obviously still lifted weights. Looked like he did something aerobic too. Maybe running. The guy could’ve posed for the great sculptors. He would look like a god captured forever in marble as smooth and sleek and alabaster as his skin.
A new, more mature dusting of blond chest hairs matched his headful of still unruly golden curls. And his eyes were still that light gray-green that made Gunner think of early spring and more innocent times.
Gulp.
“Lose your shirt somewhere?” he asked past his parchment-dry mouth. He swallowed convulsively.
“Washed it out. Letting it dry.”
“What about the munchkin? Are you sure we shouldn’t wash her off?”
“Let her be. She’s had a hell of a night.”
“I know the feeling,” Gunner muttered.
Chas’s eyes went nearly black, his pupils were dilated so hard. The guy was as aware of him as he was aware of Chas. Every hair on Gunner’s body stood up, as if an electric charge raced through him in fruitless search for an outlet to ground itself.
“She asleep yet?” Chas asked quietly, moving over to the bed to check the kid.
“Out cold. She crashed the second you gave her that washcloth to suck.”
Gunner eyed the one remaining bed. It was queen-sized but suddenly seemed far too small for both of them to share. “I’ll sleep on the floor,” he volunteered gruffly.
“Dude. You look hurt. You take the bed. I’ll take the floor,” Chas argued.
“Share?” Gunner offered. Chagrin roared through him the second the word slipped out of his mouth. He didn’t want to share. Not with Chas. Not like this.
“Uhh, sure?”
Don’t be an ass. Don’t make a big deal out of this. It wasn’t like they hadn’t shared a bed a thousand times as kids. They used to have sleepovers at one of their houses almost every weekend. Chas sounded as freaked-out by doing it now, though, as Gunner felt.
Why this guy? Why did the one and only boy he’d ever been attracted to have to come back into his life like this, bringing all that emotional baggage with him? Gunner felt about seventeen again. That had been how old he’d been the first time Chas showed him he might be into guys.
His mom wouldn’t let him go upstairs to his bedroom with a girl, but she had no problem letting him go up there alone with Chas. To study, of course. She’d had no idea what kind of education he’d gotten—
“You okay?” Chas was asking.
“Yeah. Fine.”
“You checked out on me, there, for a sec.”
“I was thinking.”
“About what?”
“Were you always this nosy? Oh wait. I remember. Yes, you were.”
Chas grinned, and for an instant, he was that cheeky teen who’d seduced Gunner and shown him a side of himself he’d had no idea existed. “Any word from your contacts about who she is?” Chas jerked his head in the child’s direction.
“Not yet. They’re working on it.”