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“Yeah, sure. It’s just jerking off, Ry. Besides, you got to watch me last time in the shower, it’s only fair.”

I know he’s teasing me now, the wink at the end proves it, which only makes it harder to tell if he’s serious about letting me stroke myself while he’s lying next to me…in the bed we’re sharing indefinitely.

It shouldn’t be a big deal, though, right? We’ve both jerked off countless times, and we’re best friends. And Ididwatch him the other day.Guess I wasn’t as sneaky as I thought.

The casual way he’s saying this makes me feel like maybe this whole thing isn’t such a big deal after all. But with how much I’ve been dissecting our friendship and my feelings for him lately, it feels like it is, at least to me.

Now that he’s planted the seed, though, I can’t stop thinking about jerking off next to him. Stroking my dick in front of him, knowing that he’ll be watching and hearingevery moan I make for real, not just for the mic. I want to see what happens when I touch myself in front of him. I want to know how he’ll react, if the sound of me falling apart does anything to him, and if watching me come turns him on. The thought makes my stomach tighten and my cock twitches, begging for freedom because I do want this.

I swallow hard and force my gaze to meet his, offering a small nod in return. My body needs release, and even if I haven’t admitted it out loud yet, Idowant him. This feels like the best way to know if I’m alone in this…or if there’s actually the potential for something more between us, and maybe it’s worth bringing up.

Slowly, I slide my hand beneath the covers and into my boxer briefs. My fingers wrap around my erection, and I exhale sharply at how good it feels already.

“Not wasting any time, huh?” he teases in a lower-than-usual tone.

“Shut up,” I groan, but there’s no bite to it. My hand moves more confidently now, stroking myself under the fabric, the pressure making my hips twitch. A low moan slips out before I can stop it, and Logan shifts beside me.

“I can’t let you have all the fun tonight,” he says.

I glance over as he opens his bedside table and pulls out a small bottle of lube. He squeezes some into his palm and it sounds like the bottle’s damn near empty, then he slips his hand down into his waistband and starts stroking himself.

I can’t help but turn my head from the pillow to watch, and while I can’t see him because he’s still covered, his breath hitches just slightly when our eyes connect, and fuck does that turn me on.

“Can I have some?” I ask, the sound of the wet glide of him touching himself making my cock ache.

“Fuck, Ryder,” he groans, and I know it’s because I waited until after he got started to ask him to pass the bottle over, but the way my name falls from his lips still makes my balls tighten.

He reaches for the bottle, and like I suspected, it’s empty. I barely get anything on my hand, and he turns to see.

“Shit, I don’t have any more. I’ll have to order another bottle tomorrow.”

“Fuck,” I groan, already dreading having to keep going without it. I bring my hand up to my mouth to spit, but he stops me with a quiet, breathy voice.

“You know, you could just steal some of mine.”

I arch my eyebrow, glancing down toward his erection that’s still hidden from my sight.Does he want to, like, high-five me or something? What is he suggesting?

“It doesn’t have to be weird,” he continues, eyes locked on mine. “Just stroke me a few times, get your hand slick. Or…” He swallows, his voice dropping even lower, breathier. “I can stroke you. With my lubed hand.”

A groan slips out before I can stop it, heat rushing to my face.Why the fuck does that sound like the best idea I’ve ever heard?

Goddamn, this is a different side of Logan I’ve never seen before—and I can’t even pretend I’m not into it. He stops moving his hand now, eyes locked on mine like he’s willing me to say yes, and a big part of me wants to. This new part of me that’s been stealing glances at my best friend and wondering aboutmorefor the first time in my life desperately wants me to lean over and wrap my hand around his dick. And I want him to do the same to me. I want to be the reason he’s moaning. I want him to look at me the way he did in the shower.

But what if this moment of desire changes everything between us? What if I touch him and realize once will never be enough? What if it’s just a one-time thing for him, and it makes me want him even more?

Fuck, what if he doesn’t want me the way I want him?

In this moment, though, desire is winning over fear, and my fingers twitch, hesitant to reach out and feel him. His lips part slightly, and—for the first time in my life—I wonder what it would feel like to press my mouth to his. That’s when I realize nothing is going to stop me from taking him up on his offer. Whatever’s been simmering between us is about to boil over.

I need to do this. I need to find out what this is between us.

Before I can second-guess myself, I move. My hand finds its way into his boxer briefs, and my fingers wrap around his erection hesitantly at first, testing it out. But when I glide my hand toward his tip, his hips jerk into my grasp like he can’t help it, a quiet moan slips from his lips—and fuck, that sound goes straight to my dick.

I stroke him again, more confidently now, watching the way his mouth parts and his eyes stay locked on me, like I’m doing something holy. He pushes his underwear down along with the blanket, freeing himself completely, and my eyes lock ontohiscock thatI’mstroking. He’s thick, flushed, and leaking precum—and I want him. I want to see what else he’ll do when I touch him like this.

Then he reaches for me. His hand tugs at my waistband, and I lift my hips without a word, letting him pull my boxer briefs down. Cool air grazes my skin, but then his warm, lubed-up hand wraps around me, and I forget how to breathe.

“Fuck,” I whisper, my head dropping back against the pillows.