Page 23 of Jacked (Gymbos #1)

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

AJ

I turn back towards the bar, trying to catch my breath like I just ran a marathon.

I’m pissed off. Everything was fucking great and Slater had to go and change the game.

I know I’m being a petulant child right now, but I wanted shit to stay the way it was, at least for a while.

I liked how easy everything was between us.

He just showed up on my doorstep and became my best friend, like friendship soulmates or something. Bromates.

I raise my glass to my lips and a couple of ice cubes hit my lips along with a small trickle of alcohol.

Empty. I set it down on the bar and turn to look at the table where Slater is sitting with the rest of the guys.

He’s smiling and saying something, gesturing with his hands while everyone laughs.

My chest tightens and a hot, jealous feeling curls itself around my insides.

Is he telling them a story I’ve already heard or is it something new?

Whatever it is, they hang on every word.

The more I watch him, the more I notice a subtle difference in his smile.

It looks more relaxed than it has lately.

It’s bigger and brighter, and the tension that’s been heavy on his shoulders the past week is gone.

I’ve been torturing myself about what I did to make him clam up and pull away, and it turns out he was just working out his sexuality.

That box in the back of my mind that I never, ever peek inside rattles and creaks.

Callan catches my eye and waves for me to come back over.

I turn back towards the bar. I need to sort out all the shit in my head before I go over there and ruin everyone else’s night.

“Hey, gorgeous. Can I buy you a drink?” A petite, younger looking guy sidles up beside me, not bothering to hide the appreciative way he eyes my muscles and lets his attention linger on the soft bulge in my shorts.

Heat shoots through me, and for once, I actually force myself to think about my reaction instead of just recoiling from it.

It’s not disgust that boils in my gut, I think it’s nerves.

It’s fear. I don’t need to hear the mocking voices of my dad or the friends I had growing up to remember that this is exactly the way I felt when they would jokingly throw around gay slurs for the slightest sin against the expectations of manliness.

“Thanks, but I’m in the middle of an existential crisis, so I’m not worth wasting the fifteen bucks on.” I let out a tight, wheezing chuckle.

The man’s eyes sparkle with amusement and sympathy.

“Sounds like you really need a drink then.”

My head is feeling a little buzzy from the Long Island already, but I nod anyway.

“Sure, just a beer though and uh… I’m not going to go home with you or hook up or anything.” I don’t know what the protocol is at a gay club and I don’t want to ruin his night.

He waves me off then flags down the bartender and asks for two beers.

“I’m Joss, by the way.”

“AJ.” I offer him my hand. He looks at it for a second and then snorts a laugh.

“Okay, so let me guess, this is your first time in a gay club and your existential crisis is that you’re suddenly very intrigued by the idea of deepthroating another dude.” He takes my hand in a lingering grip and bats his eyelashes playfully.

“Half right,” I mumble.

The bartender sets down our drinks and I use the excuse to pull my hand away so I can grab the bottle.

It’s ice cold, and the condensation makes it slick against my palm.

I glance over my shoulder again and find Slater’s eyes on me.

His eyebrows are pulled together and he looks between Joss and me. He looks annoyed, maybe even jealous?

My brain must be running on a massive delay, trying to process so much so quickly, because what he said to me a few minutes ago actually starts to sink in for the first time.

“ I thought I was straight until you. ”

Until me .

A thousand little moments from the past month since Slater moved in flash through my mind. Smiles that felt like they were just for me sometimes, going out of his way to go to my favorite breakfast place, lingering looks and touches…

Warmth rushes through me and my heart races. But instead of it being from anxiety or fear, it feels like something else. It feels like dominos falling one after another, picking up speed as my thoughts slowly sort themselves out.

Slater’s not just bisexual. He has feelings for me .

What does that mean though? Does he want to date me? Kiss me? Fuck me? Or maybe he wants me to fuck him . How do gay dudes work out who does what? Do they take turns? Flip a coin? I shake my head to clear that line of thought. I’m getting ahead of myself. The important part is, Slater wants me.

My breath catches and my cock swells so fast it makes me dizzy. The bottle of beer starts to slip through my fingers, but I can’t move, I can’t do anything but stare at Slater across the crowded bar.

“Shit.” Joss’s voice manages to reach me over the sound of my thundering pulse and the chaos of my thoughts.

He catches the bottle before it can actually fall, and I finally wrench my eyes away from Slater’s to mumble an apology.

“How do you know if you’re into guys? In a gay way, I mean? Or a bisexual way?” Shit, I probably need to learn the lingo, but one problem at a time.

The sympathetic amusement Joss has been looking at me with since I said I was having an existential crisis warms into something more flirty. He sets my drink on the bar and leans in closer.

“In my opinion, the best way is to go for a test drive.” He bats his eyelashes again and smirks.

“Like a kiss?” I ask gruffly, thinking back to the way the lights were dancing and shimmering on Slater’s lips.

Can I do that? Can I kiss a guy? The building heat inside me pulses and my knees tremble. Joss’s hand lands on my chest and he licks his lips.

“I think a kiss is a great place to start,” he purrs.

“Yeah,” I murmur, gathering my courage even as I say it. “Yeah,” I say again, more firmly the second time.

Joss smiles and tilts his head up, but I barely have time to register any of it.

I’m already moving, giving him an apologetic grunt as I carefully move his hand off of me.

My thoughts are still full of Slater as I make my way through the crowd, bobbing and weaving, trying to keep him in my sights in spite of everyone moving into my path with every step.

He’s not looking in my direction anymore. His shoulders are tense, and I wish I could see his face. I wish I’d been able to wrap my head around everything quicker and that I’d been able to give him an answer when he asked. But I have it now. At least, I think I do.

I reach the table, coming up behind Slater.

Silas says something in greeting, but I have a single-minded focus right now. I have one goal and I need to see it through before I worry about anything else.

I yank Slater’s chair away from the table with him still in it. I hear his surprised gasp over every other deafening sound in the club. He stumbles up out of his seat. I can feel everyone else’s eyes on me, but all I can see is Slater.

I wrap my hand around his bicep and the warmth of his skin under my fingertips sends lightning bolts through me.

His mouth falls open, and for a second all I can do is stare at his lips.

Have they always been so pink and full and…

tempting ? How could I not have noticed until right now?

I know the answer before I even finish asking myself the question.

I didn’t want to notice. Some part of me took it and locked it up in the box with all the other things I haven’t had the courage to deal with until now.

I think it’s going to take me a long damn time to finish unpacking the entire thing; definitely longer than one night.

But I’m about to take a pair of bolt cutters to the padlock.

“AJ, are you o?—”

I cut off his question by dragging him to me. Our chests meet, our bellies, our groins, our thighs… there isn’t an inch of daylight between us and it feels good. It feels fucking right . I wrap my free hand around the back of his neck, accidentally catching the rim of his hat and knocking it off.

I slam my mouth into his and this time I don’t just hear his gasp, I feel it too.

It vibrates against my lips and rocks me to my core.

His lips are soft, giving way easily to the rough, desperate feeling clawing at my insides.

I can taste the beer on his breath, but beneath that there’s something so much sweeter, something addictive.

The rough stubble of his five o’clock shadow grates against mine, sending a shiver down my spine and drawing a contented rumble from deep in my chest.

Slater’s body is stiff against me for half a second before he melts into the kiss.

His tongue darts out to drag against mine, his fingers digging into my shoulders and his cock swelling against mine.

Our mouths pull apart and crash back together again and again, our chests bump into each other with every breath we gulp between frantic kisses.

I wait for something inside of me to recoil, some alarm to sound and tell me this isn’t something I want. But there’s nothing. Nothing but wild need that I feel like I could drown in if I’m not careful. I don’t think I want to be careful though. I think I’m fucking done being careful.

Slater pulls back half an inch and I stare again at the rainbow of lights dancing over his damp lips. Damp from my mouth. Swollen from the way I kissed him. He slides his hands onto my chest, wrapping his fingers around the sleeves of my tank and meeting my eyes.

“Okay, that was at least a little bi,” he says, his pretty, kiss-swollen lips quirking into a teasing smile.

I swallow hard and nod.

“Yeah,” I agree. “It probably was.”

SLATER