Page 27 of Finley

THE SUN STREAMING through Daniel’s bedroom window the following morning had him rolling to face the wall, much as he had when he’d been a boy. He plumped the pillow up under his head and thought back to last night and Brantley.

Fuck,had he really yelled at the guy and then left without so much as a kiss? Sonotwhat he’d initially had in mind.

Okay, so maybe he’d imagined a few yelling matches, but they’d all generally ended with Brantley under him in a bed and apologizing for having been such a selfish asshole all those years ago. Never in his reunion fantasies had he had Brantley Hayes within reach, his mouth poised for the taking, and thenhimfreaking the fuck out about their past and telling the sexy professor not to touch him.

Motherfucker.

He reached beneath the sheet and pressed a hand against his boxers, where his morning erection was begging for release, but he wasn’t going to jack himself off when the one he really wanted to do it was just down the fucking beach.

Rolling to his back, he placed his hands behind his head and thought about his and Brantley’s conversation the night before. Was he really contemplating staying with him? As in living in his house for the next however many days?

He closed his eyes and allowed himself to think about that for a moment. Living with Brantley.Fuck, that right there was fantasy inspiring. He’d wanted nothing more back in the day than to wake up with Brantley wrapped around him in some capacity, and if he was honest, he still wanted that. The only problem was?—

“Finn, you up yet?”

His mother.

The best way to killanykind of fantasy.

Shoving his sheet aside, he pulled a shirt on and made his way down the hall, just as he had the day before. He was running through a list of plausible excuses as to why he would want to stay somewhere other than at home with his family on his vacation, when he came around the corner and saw Brantley fucking Hayes sitting at his mother’s breakfast nook.

“Oh, good. There you are,” she said before he could back the fuck up, hightail his ass into his room, and at least check his goddamn hair.

What the hell is he doing here?was the only thought running through his head when Brantley faced him.Damn it, if his mother was a surefire way to kill any kind of fantasy, one look from Brantley guaranteed a hard-on in—five, four, three, two?—

“I’ll be right back.”

He was more than aware that bolting back into his bedroom was not the action of a self-assured man, but he wasn’t quite ready to explain to his mother why he was holding a frying pan over his groin.

When he got to his room, he slammed the door shut and leaned back against it. It was amazing that in the space of twenty-four hours, he felt as though he were fucking nineteen all over again.

He looked at his sorry reflection and scowled at himself. His short hair was a mess atop his head, and his day-old stubble gave him an unkempt appearance he never would’ve wanted Brantley to see.

Fuck this shit,he thought as he pressed his fingers to his forehead.Pull yourself together, man. You have guys eating out of your hand back in Chicago.

Lowering his arms, he stepped away from the door just as a knock sounded on it.Please don’t be Brantley,he thought, because he wasn’t sure he could resist fucking him against his bedroom door…

“Finn?”

Oh thank God.When he opened the door, his mother was looking up at him.

“Hey, Ma.”

“You okay?” she asked, her eyes, the same color as his, scanning his face.

“Yeah. I didn’t realize we had company. That’s all.”

He thought he caught something in her eyes as they zoomed in on him, but then she laughed and it was gone.

“Oh, please. Professor Hayes?”

He went to open his mouth, but his mother placed a hand on his chest and he stopped short.

“He’s more like family.”

He tried not to read more into that than what she was saying, but as she continued to hold his gaze, he could’ve sworn a bead of sweat popped up on his forehead under her scrutiny.

“Is there something you want to tell me, Finn?”