Page 4 of GDL (BBA: Bad Boy Academy)

4

Kynan

"So, why me?" I ask once we're inside, sitting in a booth, facing each other.

"Excuse me?"

"My management team tells me you've been hounding them for access for months. Why me? Why not any of the countless other creators who are killing it right now?"

Sawyer pauses, looking like he's searching for the right words, and I take the opportunity to catch my breath. The ride over to the diner took a few majorly unexpected turns. I was already sweltering internally, being in such close proximity to him for the selfie, and when we jolted forward and he covered me with his arm, I liked the way he protected me. Like it was an automatic reflex. That tells me something about the kind of man he is.

And then we almost kissed.

It's confusing enough that I wanted to kiss him, but it wasn't just a one-sided thing. He was right there with me, leaning in, parting his lips, ready for it.

Which means…

Fuck. I don't know what any of this means. Sawyer's here to work. We're only together for a story. That's it.

"I think you're fascinating." Sawyer's rich voice pulls me out of my thoughts. My eyes settle on his handsome face as he goes on. "You're authentic and relatable but somehow maintain an air of mystery. You're the quintessential guy next door and the ultimate unattainable bad boy rolled into one. That's intriguing to me."

Hang on a minute. My internal defense shields fly up. Is he trying to seduce me in order to get his story? Is this a tactic he uses to get his interviewees to open up to him?

I lift my chin. "I thought you said you weren't interested in doing an exposé."

"I stand by that. I have no interest in exploiting you or invading any boundaries you may have around your private life."

His mouth opens to say something else, but before he can, the waitress returns with our food. Once she's gone, he picks up his burger, but before taking a bite, says, "I've done my research. I've gone through all the publicly available information I can find about you. But I think there's more to you than what you've shown the world so far. That's what attracted me to you. And even though you have your own platform, I think I can help you tell your story."

He has no idea how much of a story I have. Ashton arrived in my life less than a month ago. No one knows about him, except for my assistant, Tharin, and the nanny I hired, Mischa.

I haven't told my family or the BBA crew yet because I'm still processing this all myself. It might sound strange, but I want some time alone with Ashon, for me to bond with him, before I share him with anyone else. And especially before I share him with the rest of the world.

Sawyer starts rattling off what information he's gathered about my life—where I grew up, being a triplet, studying business in college, my journey from one grainy, amateurish social media post filmed in my dorm room to where I am today.

"Your research skills are top notch. I'm impressed," I tell him. "You just left out one detail."

"Oh. What's that?"

I tip my chin up and aim my sultriest smile at him. "The part where I'm ridiculously hot."

He draws in a sharp breath, lowers his burger to his plate, and wipes his hands on a napkin. "About that. And about what happened in the car before."

My chest constricts. Shit. I've blown it. My attempt at redirecting the conversation to more flirty terrain is about to backfire on me. I can hear it in his clipped tone.

"I apologize for my inappropriate behavior. We've been brought together in a professional capacity, and I intend on honoring that. I'm sorry if I've said or done anything to make you uncomfortable. It won't happen again."

My stomach sinks, and I push my plate away and stare out the window at the busy road. That's the thing. He hasn't said or done anything to make me uncomfortable at all. If anything, I wish we hadn't got cut off in the car because I really wanted to kiss him.

And I still do.

"What's wrong?" Sawyer asks after a few moments of silence.

I turn my head back to face him. His green eyes are lasered in on me, and as much as I'd like to think he's worried about me, he's probably just concerned he's messed up in a 'professional capacity.'

"Nothing. I'm fine," I say, lifting my soda fountain glass filled with chocolate milkshake. "To professional boundaries."

My toast doesn't seem to make him happy, though. His lips remain pressed in a hard line. I don't get it. This is what he wants, isn't it? To keep things between us strictly business.

He lifts his glass and meets my gaze, his normally sharp eyes dimmed slightly. "To professional boundaries," he repeats with literally zero enthusiasm.

We keep things professional for the rest of the meal, mainly talking about BBA and how it all came about. We didn't cover any new territory he wouldn't already have discovered in his research, but he managed to look interested nonetheless.

I had a host of questions I wanted to ask him but decided not to, since I figured asking him about his sons or his dating life wouldn't go well in light of our recent commitment to professionalism.

"I need to use the restroom," he says as we get out of the booth once we've finished our meal.

"Same."

He smiles.

I smile back.

He waves for me to go first.

I bow my head in thanks.

We're totally killing this whole professional thing.

I step into the small restroom, holding the door open for him behind me.

"Thank you."

"Oh, crap." I step out of the way and point to the Out of Order sign on the cubicle door.

Both our heads turn to the two side-by-side urinals at the same time. When I look over at Sawyer, he's running a hand through his thick mane.

"You go first," he says, averting his gaze. "I'll wait here."

I roll my eyes and grab him by the wrist. "We can pee at the same time. It's no big deal. Come on."

He moves heavily but doesn't fight me on it. I unzip my pants and take my dick out. A few seconds later, I hear Sawyer unzip his pants.

Which means… he must be holding his dick, too.

And suddenly, I understand his reluctance. I've never thought about how awkward this could be before, because I've never pissed next to a guy I'm attracted to before.

With my pulse starting to race, I tilt my head down annnd slightly to the right as slowly as I can. Guys check each other out all the time. Happens in locker rooms, gym showers, even urinals. It doesn't mean anything. It's totally normal.

This is just like that.

Except…

I've never had my cock grow in response to seeing another guy's dick. And as I catch my first glimpse of Sawyer's girthy, veiny, uncut shaft, that's exactly what starts to happen. I'm powerless to stop it, watching with equal amounts of horror and excitement as my cock goes from floppy to hard in my hand.

I stop peeing, but there's no way I'm going to be able to tuck myself into my pants without making it obvious I have an erection.

Beside me, Sawyer clears his throat. Shit. Did he catch me checking out his junk? Not less than an hour ago, we were toasting to professional boundaries, and now here I am, holding my hard cock less than six feet away from the guy.

I slowly turn my head to face the music, which I'm assuming will involve a more sternly worded than before lecture on the need to keep things work focused.

But when I look at Sawyer, I don't see the face of an angry man. Instead, I'm met with two blazing green fires and his top teeth buried in his lower lip. His breathing is shallow and labored, and when I glance down again, my eyes bulge. His cock is as hard as mine.

"Holy shit," I mutter. "How did that happen?"

He emits a low chuckle. "Could ask you the same thing."

"No. I mean your head." I point toward the tip of his cock. "Where did the foreskin go?" Guess I've just outed myself as never having seen an uncut cock in my life.

"The foreskin retracts…" He clears his throat. "…when I get hard."

"Retracts where?" I ask, and since we're talking about his dick, I feel emboldened to take a proper look at it as Sawyer's long, well-manicured fingers slide along it to just beneath the crown. With a gentle tug, he brings his foreskin up over the tip before retracting it.

"Like this."

"I do," I reply, realizing a few mortifying seconds too late Sawyer didn't mean Like this as a question but as a demonstration.

That same horny feeling I had in the back seat of the car returns, slamming into me with full force. Despite never being with a guy, my instinct is screaming at me, loud and clear.

I want to do stuff with Sawyer Bannister.