Page 57 of Antagonist

I’m probably just nervous. I can’t remember the last time I went out for the evening, not knowing where things might end.

It may be unreasonably optimistic, or maybe just hopeful, but I’ve put clean sheets on the bed, and I know my parents will gladly keep George for the entire weekend. Or maybe we could end up at Harrison’s place.

Don’t get ahead of yourself.

I go around the house, checking things I know I’ve done. George’s bedroom window is shut, and so is the back door. I know my studio is locked because I did it when I finished work.

I’m debating if I should double-check the studio when the doorbell rings.

My stomach jolts and I almost feel sick.

Harrison stands on my doorstep looking just like he did on the auction night. If I’m honest with myself, I didn’t bid for him just because I felt sorry for being rude that night. Harrison in a suit is porn at its best.

Wide shoulders, tapered waist, long legs, and a black suit that fits so perfectly, I’m not sure I could do it justice if I tried to paint him.

He looked absolutely delectable then, and he looks even better now.

He’s had a haircut, so it’s slightly shorter on the sides but still has some length on top. A few gray hairs are starting to show, and I can only imagine how much better Harrison will look as he grows old.

“Hi,” we say simultaneously when we realize we are both staring.

He takes a step forward and gives me a tentative kiss on the cheek, which I think is adorable in a kind of old-fashioned but also so Harrison way.

“You look stunning, Fletcher.” He inhales, and as his chest expands with the intake of air, I melt into him. “And you smell even better.”

“I’m not wearing cologne. I always find people overdo it for these things, and it can be a bit too much.”

He chuckles. “Are you ready?”

“I am.”

I lock the door and follow him to his car.

“Where’s the function?” I ask.

“It’s at The Academy.”

“Good choice. Levi might be on shift tonight.”

Our chat in the car is easy and comfortable. Even though my eyes keep wandering over to the bulge in his suit pants, I know it would be highly inappropriate to—

“Stop looking at my crotch like you have x-ray vision.”

I look up, realizing I’ve been caught.

“Not my fault you pack like you’re hiding a giant dick in there.”

He lets out a sound that’s somewhere between a choke and a groan. “In case you’ve forgotten, we have someunfinishedbusiness. Keep your eyes wandering to safer places unless you want me to stop the car right now and finish what we started in your studio.”

“I’m sorry. Is that supposed to make me want to look away from your stupid giant bulge?”

We stop at a red light, and he looks at me. “My bulge isn’t stupid.”

I snort. “It’s large though.”

“Fletcher,” he warns.

I chuckle and look ahead. The traffic light changes, and we’re on the move again.