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Page 18 of Gym Bros (Bay Area Bros #2)

SAMUEL

C alyx is laughing. “What are you doing?”

“Shutting you up,” I mutter, but there’s no way he hears it.

My size helps get us through the crowd to find an open-ish space.

I genuinely have no idea what I’m doing, but I can see what other people are up to, so I spot a guy who doesn’t look like a stiff freak and copy him.

Calyx moves in front of me, lightly swaying, mainly shifting his weight from side to side.

It’s effortless, and yet still looks like dancing. He’s impossibly sexy. I can’t even wrap my brain around him.

Which means he’s looking at me like I’ve lost my mind.

A woman edges in near me, and a man about Calyx’s size comes up behind him, putting his hands lightly on Calyx’s shoulders.

Calyx starts to back up, toward the other man, but I shake my head, grabbing him by the hips and pulling him toward me.

“You’re not leaving me alone out here. It was your dare. ”

He stares up at me in what almost looks like shock. “I wasn’t daring you.”

“You were. ”

“All right, fine.” He puts his arms over my shoulders and draws closer, tilting his face up to look at me.

I’m unable to suppress my satisfied smile. Now I just have to not get hard. “Why’s it so impossible for you to be nice to me?” I ask.

He makes a face and shakes his head. “I’ve been nice to you all day.”

“And what? The tank ran dry?”

“What? What did I say? I’m sorry I think Saber is a silly name. Samuel is a great name, and it suits you.”

“Thanks?”

“My parents named me Paul ,” he says. “Try to tell me that’s not the worst name in the world for me with a straight face.”

“Oh wow.” He just came out and told me. And he’s a thousand percent right. He is nowhere near a Paul. “How’d you come up with Calyx?”

“I was trying to find anything that had to do with flowers.”

“Flowers, huh? So you were always this pretty?”

His smile tightens for a fraction of a second but then it gives way, and he bats his lashes. “I was.”

“Well, I was just trying to find something that sounded tough, but I don’t intend to make it my legal name.”

“Yeah, I get it.”

“I don’t mind you calling me Samuel,” I say.

He smiles softly. “So, are you mad at me or not?”

“I’m always a little mad at you.”

His lips turn down in the most deliciously perfect pout. “Tell me how to fix it.”

Let me kiss you is what I want to say as my dick threatens to surge up between us. “You wanna learn kung fu?”

His eyes sparkle in the ever changing lights. “Like right now?”

“We’re dancing right now. ”

“Yeah, what’s this about?” he asks. “Is Priya right? You secretly like me even though you’re always mad at me?”

“Priya?” I ask.

“Yeah,” he says. “I told her she was crazy, too. She is by the way. Like basically certifiable.”

“You’re my yoga teacher,” I say obliquely.

“But you’re spending your birthday with me and my friends.”

“I haven’t gotten a chance to know many people here,” I tell him. “The group at the gym is pretty established. I’m still the new guy. They’re all older.”

“Old like me?”

“Some are even older than you,” I say.

“You’re the baby,” he teases.

“And you’re my babysitter.”

His mouth drops open. “Ouch. No, sir, I am not. I’m your hamstring’s new BFF. And your tight little tailbone’s tutor.”

“ You are drunk.”

“ I am buzzed. What are you?”

Horny. Fuck. “Flirting with you?” I say, testing the waters.

“Oh!” He blinks several times while he seems to work through what to say to that. “You shouldn’t. I’m bad news. I’m also—and I know this might come as a surprise—a boy.”

“Oh, I know,” I tell him. “A very pretty, very mean boy.”

“Now my feelings are getting hurt.”

“Because I called you pretty? You don’t like that, do you?”

He rolls his eyes, and I move my hands to his lower back. He’s so thin. He’s strong, but he’s also delicate. It drives me crazy. More warmth gathers in my groin. I try to figure out how I’m going to keep a hold on him when my erection inevitably emerges without him knowing about it.

“Look, I think you’re great. It’s me. I’m the problem. I’m awful and miserable, and no one should be around me, really,” he says .

“Why are you miserable?”

“Because I hate my life. I hate the way I look and the way people look at me. I hate my stupid job, and I hate myself for not being able to enjoy it anymore. That’s why.”

“Did something specific happen?” I ask.

“No. Well, yes. But no…it wasn’t any different than anything else, I just had this moment.”

“You wanna tell me about it?”

“I’m basically screaming.”

It’s true. We’re having to shout over the music, but we’ve managed to somehow read lips, too. I’m not talking as loudly as I was when we first came out here, and neither is he.

“Rachel says you grew up too fast.”

“I told you that, too,” he says.

“You did. I was listening.”

“But what does that mean anyway?” he asks. “Like what did I miss? Prom? High school bullies? Cafeteria food?”

“Movies with friends, mini golf, making out in the backseat of a car?”

“Oh, I’ve done that plenty.”

I laugh.

“And what’s so great about mini golf?” he asks.

“Nothing, really, unless someone brings a flask in and you’re sneaking sips of Cuervo.”

“Tell me you’re joking.”

“Nope. You missed out.”

“Did you go to prom?” he asks.

“For like five minutes. It sucked. My friends and I had a hotel suite where we went back and drank and took turns using the bedroom with our dates.”

“Gross.”

I shrug. “It was high school.”

“Were you popular? ”

I accidentally snort. “No.”

“Why not?”

“It doesn’t really work like that for one thing, and also because I got into a lot of fights.”

“Noooo….” He grins.

“What can I say? I don’t like assholes.”

Speaking of which, the same guy from before is encroaching on Calyx again, hands on his hips this time, and looking like he’s about to start grinding.

I shoot him a look, but he’s too focused on Calyx’s ass.

“Do you wanna dance with this guy?” I ask with a sigh.

Calyx glances behind him, then back up at me. He shakes his head. I spin us around, giving the dude my ass to grind against if he wants to try. Evidently he does not. “I hate these places,” Calyx tells me.

“Was that a true story at brunch?”

He nods with wide, sincere eyes. “It kind of was my fault,” he says. “I didn’t realize he was so…close.”

My smile is pinched. “And that was here?”

“Yeah. Right about here.”

“Poor guy.”

“You don’t mean me, do you?” he asks.

I shake my head.

He studies my face closely for a moment, and I try to let my guard down, let him see what’s really there.

The attraction. The restraint. The indecision.

It’s hard, though. He basically already told me there was no way in hell.

While I can handle rejection, humiliation isn’t something I’m interested in.

“Okay, I might be a little bit drunk, so just ignore me if I’m way off base, but do you wanna kiss me, Samuel?”

I hesitate for half a second before nodding.

He’s the one who asked the question, but he looks stunned. “ Really ? Huh. ”

“It wouldn’t have to take long,” I tell him in case he’s considering doing it.

He laughs. “No?”

“Not if you didn’t want to.”

“I assumed you were straight.”

“You assume a lot of things about me.”

“I know . I’m terrible. What else is wrong with me? Tell me everything. Let’s put it all out there.”

“You’d rather do that than let me kiss you for two seconds?” I ask.

“It’s the way safer option, I promise. You’d a hundred percent live to regret kissing me.”

I look down at his sincere face, amused. “Why’s that?”

“I told you,” he says with a grimace. “I’m terrible.”

“If you’re not interested, just say so.”

“I—” he stops himself and scans my face again, then my upper body, then the place where his body is pressed against mine where my thickening cock is about to become very obvious. “Fine. I’ll try it.”

Shit, he just said that. Stalling, I say, “Yeah?” Because how do I want to go about this? If I get two seconds, obviously I’d want to buy more time with my approach, but if I’m too aggressive…

He’s waiting patiently, his body still moving with mine.

I look at his mouth, and I swear I forget how kissing works.

What I remember for sure is two seconds isn’t nearly enough time. “Ten seconds,” I say.

“ Ten ?”

“I hadn’t factored for warm up.”

He grins, and beneath the flashing disco light, it’s dazzling. “I’m not timing you. Just get it over with. Kiss me.”

Trying not to make too big of a deal about it, even though my hormones are jacked through the roof, I lean in and press my mouth to his.

His lips are smooth, soft and sweet. Lush.

They feel exactly like they look. I take a short moment to taste and explore them with a nip and a subtle lick, but when they open, I more or less fall into his mouth.

My too eager tongue brushes over his before I slant my head and seal us together.

He makes a sound I feel in my throat and chest. His hands wrap around the nape of my neck, hanging on while he bends backward in my arms to take more of me.

And he does take it. He’s not letting go.

Everything disappears. The music. The lights. The other bodies.

Kissing him is so good, it barely feels real. He tastes so goddamned good. I knew he would. I knew he’d be so fucking sweet.

One roll of his hips makes my erection blatantly obvious—he’s right on top of it, and it’s then that he turns his head and puts a hand on my chest. I stand upright, bringing him with me.

“Okay, well there’s that ,” he says, licking his lips and letting go of me. “Want another drink? I certainly fucking need one.”

I’m fucking spinning, and he’s already leaving me behind.

So much for not letting him know I’m interested.

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