Page 11

CHAPTER 10

DON’T FALL FOR IT

CHUCK

“No fucking way.”

Chuck laughed, shaking his head as Darius continued to regale them with the saga of one of his high school students who kept trying to plagiarize an assignment.

“This kid didn’t realize that when you print out the webpage,” Darius went on, emphasizing his words by slapping a hand down on the picnic table. “The url is right there on the top of the page. And the ads were even there too!” He shook his head, rubbing a hand over his dark, smoothly shaved head. “I don’t want to fail the kid, but it’s the second time this semester he’s pulled this shit.”

David, who looked perfectly content with a Corona in one hand and Sage tucked close against his body, shrugged. “Sometimes they’ve got to learn the hard way, and, as painful as it is, all you can do is sit by and be ready to support them on the other side.”

The crew was all there to celebrate David’s birthday. Thirty-five. Shit , they were all getting old.

Chuck looked around the table, at Rebecca picking a piece of lint from Darius’ shirt, at Sage melted into David’s body even as she and Maggie laughed about something, at Keaton, still in his crisp white dress shirt from the office, who was deep in conversation with Tommy.

Tommy had gotten his hair cut. Chuck’s eyes trailed over the artful flop where it was still longer on the top. Tommy’s hair had that perfect weight to it Chuck had always envied, sitting against his head when it got long enough, whereas Chuck’s sort of poofed out. Over the years, he’d learned to work with it.

His eyes dropped down to Tommy’s mouth just as it spread into a wide smile.

Shit . It was a good smile.

It had always been easy to shove aside the way his heart rate sped up when Tommy smiled. There had been a million degrees of separation between himself—a man in the closet—and his friend, who’d been happily married to a woman. But now Tommy wasn’t married, and Chuck wasn’t in the closet anymore. It was too easy to imagine that the way Tommy sometimes looked at him with fondness could mean something it didn’t.

Tommy was straight. Straight and single, and even though Chuck knew Tommy shared his desire to find someone real, to settle into a committed relationship where the physical built on an emotional foundation, Chuck was going to have to accept the fact that someday soon he’d have to watch Tommy fall in love from the sidelines. Again.

They shared nachos, a tray of loaded tots, a couple of baskets of wings, a big order of hummus and veggies with triangles of pita bread, and a few orders of sliders. It was classic bar food—the perfect way to celebrate David.

Because it was a Saturday, everyone was letting loose a little bit more than they normally would during the work week. Drinks were flowing, and even though there wasn’t a band that night, as the bar grew more crowded, the music got louder, and Sage and Maggie led the charge to the dance floor.

Chuck was in the mood to dance.

It was the typical mixture of classic rock, eighties pop anthems, and a few newer songs that he recognized. He gripped a beer in one hand and waved his free hand around above him, standing in a loose circle with Sage and Maggie as they all sang along with Sweet Child O’ Mine . With his face turned up toward the warm night sky and the bobbing glow of the string lights above him, Chuck felt okay. He was doing okay.

He was moving through life, showing up to his office for meetings, getting on the occasional airplane to go to meets to scout athletes, eating, and sleeping. He’d woken up rock hard a few times, and still wasn’t used to his orgasms being so easy to reach. There was still a lingering fear as he changed his medication, because regardless of what he hoped lay on the other side, walking away from the thing that had kept him stable for years was terrifying.

But there was also a feeling like he’d been inside of a soft, protective bubble for years, and now it was fading away. Where he was used to a layer standing between him and the world, something that dulled the bumps, now there was no padding. No protection.

He was figuring it out, thanks to the therapy and the swimming, but fuck if there wasn’t a part of him that wanted to crawl into a hole and wait for it all to pass.

Dancing was good. Drinking a few beers, loosening the tightness in his shoulders just a little bit was good. The song changed, and Chuck burst out laughing. He looked around, searching for?—

“Dude!” Tommy ran toward him, his face getting the pink flush indicating he was a couple of neat whiskeys deep. He already looked disheveled, with a few buttons undone and his sleeves pushed up to his elbows. “It’s our song!”

Tommy grabbed Chuck’s free hand, his palm warm and soft as he threaded their fingers together.

They sang along to every word of Stacy’s Mom . Tommy never let go of Chuck’s hand, instead swinging their arms back and forth as he swayed his hips and head from side to side. Chuck tried to ignore how good it felt to be dancing with a man like this, just like he was ignoring the way Tommy looked at him.

It was probably just the drinks, but there was something about the way Tommy watched him as they danced. If it had been anyone else, Chuck would have thought he was checking him out. That Tommy was looking his body over like he was interested.

And even when the song ended and they shared a triumphant cheer, Tommy stuck close to him. They drank more, celebrated David surviving another year of being alive on planet earth, and when it got to be midnight, they all started figuring out rides home.

Chuck knew he was past the point of driving. He called up a ride-share and agreed easily when Tommy asked if he could crash at his place.

The two men climbed into the backseat of the car, and Chuck let out a puff of breath as he leaned back against the headrest. They really were getting older. Staying up past midnight belonged solidly in their mid-twenties.

He jumped when he felt Tommy’s head on his shoulder. Chuck looked down, catching a noseful of Tommy’s soft hair and cologne. His body perked up at the familiar scent and proximity.

No . Chuck closed his eyes and shook his head. Don’t fall for this. He’s drunk.

He’s your straight friend and he’s drunk .

* * *

The second they walked in the front door, Chuck beelined to the kitchen, leaving an obviously tipsy Tommy fumbling with the laces of his shoes as he sang nonsense to all three of the cats, who looked horrified at having been interrupted from their various perches around the living room.

Water. Chuck needed water, and a little bit of space.

What the fuck was going on with Tommy? Did he know what he was doing when he’d put a hand on Chuck’s thigh in the car? When his fingers started tracing little circles, his touch burning right through Chuck’s jeans?

Chuck shook his head, bracing himself against the countertop as he watched the cup he’d set down in the sink fill up with water, trying to clear the ridiculous notion that Tommy might have touched him because he wanted to.

A hard, warm body pressed against his back.

Chuck forgot how to breathe. He felt the nudge of a nose against the side of his neck and a warm puff of breath. There was no way his touch was an accident.

“You smell good,” Tommy said softly, and Chuck could feel each word on his skin.

He swallowed the lump in his throat. What the fuck was happening?

But then there was a brush of a mouth and lips pressing, almost like a kiss. Tommy made a humming noise as he nuzzled, actually nuzzled Chuck’s neck.

“You’re so pretty,” Tommy said, his voice louder, almost commanding.

Chuck shivered. “Oh yeah?” he breathed, because he was weak and couldn’t imagine doing anything but playing along with whatever game Tommy was starting between them.

“Mmhm. The prettiest boy I’ve ever seen.”

Chuck had to bite back a moan as Tommy’s wet tongue dragged up the side of his neck. “You can’t say shit like that to me, T.”

Hands gripped Chuck’s hips and next thing he knew his back was pressed against the countertop. Even though he was a good five inches shorter than Chuck, Tommy filled his whole field of vision.

Golden peach skin, imperfect nose, expressive hazel eyes that looked at Chuck like he was a revelation. Mouth slack and teeth biting down on his pink bottom lip.

“I’m serious, Chuck.” Tommy’s gaze didn’t waver.

Chuck shook his head. None of this made sense. It didn’t add up. Whatever this was seemed so far outside of the reality Chuck lived in that he didn’t know what to do. “Tommy…” he began.

Tommy shifted forward, and Chuck’s breath hitched as he felt hips press against him. Lean hips and broad thighs and holy fuck , that was Tommy’s cock. Tommy’s hard cock was right there, pressed against his body.

Tommy’s face hovered in front of him. His tongue wet his lips, and his gaze dropped to Chuck’s mouth. “I’m going to kiss you now,” Tommy whispered.

“What?”

And then Tommy kissed him.

Tommy Littleton, the sweetest, straightest business bro he’d ever known, pressed his lips to Chuck’s without the slightest hesitation. His mouth was firm and wet, lips steady as they pillowed against his mouth. For a moment the kiss was chaste, and Chuck stood there frozen, too afraid to move. Terrified to interrupt whatever alternate reality he’d stumbled into.

But then hands brushed over his sides before settling back on his hips, the touch solid and burning right through the fabric of his shirt. Chuck couldn’t help the whine that escaped his throat, not when Tommy was touching him and his lips were softer than he’d imagined.

Tommy responded with a flick of his tongue over Chuck’s mouth, and Chuck opened to him. If he was going to do something this stupid, he might as well hold nothing back.

When their tongues met it felt like diving into water, a smooth slide that reminded Chuck of coming home. There was a patience to the way Tommy explored him that tugged at something in Chuck’s chest he knew had no place in whatever was happening between them. Chuck kissed him back, giving everything he had because it was the best kiss he could remember, one that left his toes curling in his socks and his heartbeat pounding in his chest.

There was no question that this was stupid. It was fucking stupid because Chuck knew at the end of it all he’d be left in pieces. There was no version of this story, the one where he got to live out the fantasy of making out with Tommy, that didn’t end with Chuck, alone, trying to put himself back together.

Tommy let out a deep groan that Chuck felt in his bones, and he melted just a little bit more into the body pressing him against the kitchen counter. Tommy tasted like whiskey and his stubble was the perfect kind of rough against Chuck’s lips.

He was so wrapped up in the kiss that he didn’t notice Tommy’s hands had left his hips until he was jerked hard to one side. Gasping, Chuck drew back, looking down between them to find Tommy’s hands trying to tug his leather belt free.

For a moment Chuck was frozen, watching those hands so close to where his hardened cock strained against the placket of his jeans.

Finally he reacted, grabbing Tommy’s hands and stilling their frantic movements. Keeping his hold tight, he looked up, almost afraid of what he’d see on his friend’s face.

Tommy’s pupils were blown wide, his swollen mouth parted as his chest heaved with panted breaths. He met Chuck’s gaze, glanced down between them, and then looked back up. His face shifted into a playful pout as his fingers tugged on his waistband.

The moment was so absurd that Chuck felt himself biting back a smile. Still, he shook his head.

“I bet it’s pretty just like the rest of you,” Tommy muttered, eyes fixed on Chuck’s crotch.

And that’s a wrap on my sanity for the evening . “Go sit your drunk ass down on the couch, T,” Chuck rasped, his voice cracking. “I’ll bring you some water.”

Tommy took a step back, running a hand through his hair. “Whatever you say, pretty boy.”

Good lord.

Chuck stood there frozen, watching Tommy saunter away. He only bumped into one doorframe, recovering gracefully as he disappeared into the living room.

Chuck turned back to the sink, coming face to face with the full glass that sat in the bottom of the sink overflowing. He turned off the tap and drained the whole thing in huge gulps, chest burning as he refilled it.

Okay . They had both been drinking. He knew Tommy was lonely. There had to be an explanation for this, some way to explain the thigh touching and the kissing and the way his friend had called him pretty .

Chuck shook his head again. He’d go to the living room and talk to Tommy. And in the future, they’d share a laugh about that one time Tommy had too much to drink and made a move on him.

They’d clear the air and it would all be fine.

But when he got to the living room with a glass of water, there was Tommy, sprawled out on the couch and fast asleep, soft snores falling from his parted lips.

As Chuck retreated to his own room and his own bed, he told himself that he was relieved. It was a good thing Tommy had fallen asleep before anything else could happen.

It was a good thing , he repeated again and again as he drifted off to sleep.