Page 16
CHAPTER 16
Zeb
“I’ll be fast, promise,” Geo says as he heads for the bathroom.
I nod.
“I mean, we don’t have to be at your parents until six, and they are ten minutes down the road, so we’ve got plenty of time,” I reply as I head for my bedroom to grab my change of clothes.
Geo leans in the doorway, clutching his towel and a makeup bag full of “his face”, as he says, to his chest.
Set against the pale blue of my bathroom, he looks like the fucking Grim Reaper.
“Right, of course. I’m, uh... going to shower now,” he says, blinking before turning around and closing the door.
He’s been acting weird all afternoon, but I guess I can’t blame him after our conversation at lunch.
Granted, I knew it needed to happen, and I’m glad it’s out of the way now, but I’m still a little pissed about Katy just letting things slip because she was always adamant it wasn’t her place.
But in a way, I’m also kind glad she gave me an out, too.
I get undressed, tossing my shirt and jeans in the hamper, as I set about to finding my outfit for dinner.
Growing up, I spent a lot of time over at the Graves’, even before I started working for them as Geo’s guitarist.
Family dinners aren’t black tie or anything, but Debbie and Joel insist that everyone be in their Sunday best when they do have family dinner.
Especially if guests are in from out of town.
I set out a purple button down with shimmery monstera fern motifs and a pair of black dress pants, just as the bathroom door opens.
I head for the hallway to grab my towel, and then I run smack into Geo.
“Shit, sorry. I forgot my fa?—”
I settle my hands on his biceps without thinking, and his voice disappears.
“It’s all good, don’t worry about it,” I say as I drop my hands immediately, my gaze falling over the absolute specimen in front of me.
His dark hair is wet, haphazardly falling in his amber eyes, which is bad enough, because the sight of a wet, surprised Geo Graves is attractive in ways I can’t even begin to try and describe, but my gaze falls to his chest.
To the giant black cross that stretches across his well-defined pecs and six pack, and it keeps trailing lower until I see the cross disappear beneath his towel.
My towel, that is wrapped over his absolutely vicious fucking V.
Fuck.
Geo grabs his towel tightly, clutching his makeup bag across his chest.
“Sorry, just, uh... needed my face stuff.” He looks at me, batting those dark eyelashes as he chews on his lower lip, his eyebrows furrowing.
A strange tension builds, and I suddenly feel very warm.
Geo clears his throat, his fingers gripping his bag tightly.
“Got it,” he squeaks.
I shake my head, heading for the doorway.
“Yeah, of course. I’ll just, uh—you go that way, I’ll go this way.”
Once the door is closed behind me, I let out a slow breath, removing my boxers and heading straight for the shower.
Sliding under the hot water, I run my hands through my hair, trying to focus on the task at hand.
My cock jumps with excitement, and I shake my head.
“No, absolutely not,” I tell myself, lathering up my hair with shampoo.
I close my eyes, letting the hot water sluice over my skin.
My cock throbs, needing attention, and I curse under my breath.
I can’t.
I fucking can’t.
He’s right across the hall, for fuck’s sake!
What if he comes back in here for something?
Though that thought doesn’t strike fear in my cock like it should.
Not one fucking bit, and I slam my hand against the tile, shaking my head.
Do I want him to walk in here and find me fucking my fist in the shower while I think about him?
I can’t say I dislike that idea, and I know I should.
Geo might be okay with my being gay in theory, but knowing Geo’s general disposition about sex in general, I’m not entirely sure he’d be okay with that.
I adjust my cock, turn off the shower, climb out, and grab my towel, wrapping it tightly around my waist.
“Show some fucking restraint,” I say to the mirror as I run my hands through my hair.
I push myself away from the sink, opening the door.
I catch Geo, sitting on the edge of the bed, staring at his phone, the light casting an almost angelic glow on his face.
I try not to stare, but the sun shining through the window on his pale, defined back and shoulders makes him look younger.
Softer.
Pretty.
He flashes his gaze up at me, but he doesn’t say anything.
His phone chirps, but he doesn’t answer.
“You going to get that?” I ask as I shift my stance, my cock twitching behind my towel.
No!
I said restraint, damn it!
“It can wait,” he replies as he sets his phone down on the bed beside him, standing up.
I fight not to look down, because I know if I do, I’ll see him in his fucking underwear and I’ll never be able to erase that image.
I’ll see that badass cross dipping below his waistband, and I’ll be too fucking tempted to touch him and see just where it ends.
I suck in a deep breath, and turn around, heading for my bedroom, and I shut the door.
I know I should feel victorious because I didn’t look.
And I really fucking wanted to.
When I finish the last button on my shirt, I look at myself in the mirror, letting out a deep breath, and then I open the door.