Page 37 of Show Me 1

“It makes me feel weird. I don’t…” Sam shook his head again. “I’ve been thinking about it all night, and I don’t know if I can mess around with a stranger like that. Kinda per our conversation the other day.” He hitched one shoulder in a shrug, and I tried not to react in surprise as he dropped his hands around my waist and anchored them to my low back. When he splayed them, they covered the entire surface area halfway up my spine. I quelled the tremor of delight that wanted to race through me imagining them on other parts of me. He could probably palm my ass in one hand. I craned my head up at him as he spoke again, hoping he would ignore my burgeoning erection. “I just don’t see this working. I’m not going to be able to find someone here.”

“Don’t give up yet.” I tried to inject the level of enthusiasm I suspected I was supposed to have versus what currently existed and was quickly ebbing the longer I was in Sam’s arms. “I could talk to some guys. Anyone you see as even a remote possibility, I can go talk to him. Vet him. I’m not shy. I could maybe get a better sense of who would be down and who might be a good match.” I scanned the crowd again. I’d been coming here since freshman year and was accustomed to the crowd. I knew a lot of the staff by name, and there were plenty of regulars. Surely among them would be a low-key, discreet guy Sam would vibe with. I had that thought even as Parson, a third-year fashion student, flipped a fan open dramatically and used it to scythe his way through the crowd toward the dance floor. Hmm. Maybe we should’ve gone to one of the leather bars.

I was pretty sure a leather daddy wasn’t what Sam had in mind either, though. Fuck, this was harder than it seemed. And I still didn’t want to be doing it at all.

Feeling Sam’s gaze on the side of my face, I tipped him a querying look.

He glanced away and over the crowd again, then finally looked down to meet my eyes, his grip on me tightening. “It has to be you. You have to do it.”

“Do what now?” I was surely hearing things.

Sam grabbed me by the elbow and guided me off the dance floor where it was quieter. “I need you to do the videos with me. I mean, if you’re willing. Or want to. Or…willing, yeah. Just willing is good enough.”

Oh god, was I screwed.

13

Sam

I’d had a fun night dancing at Hype, don’t get me wrong. I loved to dance, and it made no difference to me whether I was surrounded by girls in crop tops or guys in the same while I was doing it. But every time some guy danced up on me or drifted into my field of vision, I tried to imagine hooking up with them and couldn’t. When I tried to mentally chart the logical path forward, I arrived at a lot of missteps and awkwardness. Because even if some guy did sign an NDA, could I truly trust them?

The closest I’d gotten to interest had been Sawyer, and that was because he’d made me feel at ease almost immediately, the same way Jesse did. But when Jesse put the kibosh on that and pressed against me, doing some kind of inhumanly hypnotic undulation with his spine that made his ass thump steadily against my groin, I forgot everything else. It got me going, and I made an instinctive grab for his hips to keep the pressure focused and intense before the rest of me could catch up to what was happening.

Then he’d swiveled, canting his head back toward me as I looped my arms around him the way I hadn’t been able to—nor had any desire to do—with any other guy in the club, and I knew.

It has to be you.

Still, I didn’t mean for it to come tumbling out of my mouth the way it had, like some sprawling awkward octopus of a statement that was technically supposed to be a request.

Now Jesse was giving me one of those gape-mouthed stares that suggested I’d lost it.

I wasn’t going to pretend that just because I was offering and Jesse was a gay guy that I expected him to leap at the prospect. Still, given all our activities over the last couple of weeks, I’d expected something a little more diplomatic than his face twisting up like I’d just told him I’d punched his grandma.

I took a step back to put some distance between us. “Okay, I’ll take that as a no, and let’s just keep doing what we were doing.”

Jesse grabbed my arm when I tried to push past him. “Wait a minute, do you really think that’s a good idea, though? I mean, we’re…we’re…friends and roommates.”

“Exactly, we’re friends. I’m reasonable, you’re reasonable. The other stuff has gone really well…” I waved a hand. “But never mind. I totally understand. Let’s just pretend I never said anything.”

“That’s probably for the best.”

The craziest thing, though, was that as I headed toward the bar to get another bottle of water, I was pretty sure the feeling in my stomach wasn’t the sting of rejection, but disappointment.

* * *

The next morning,I slowed on the sidewalk as I spotted Jesse speed-walking across the quad toward me, jaw tightly set. I wondered if he was hungover. We’d stayed another hour at the club before all piling into an Uber. I hadn’t had too much to drink, but getting up so early for weight training had still sucked on so little sleep.

My smile faded the closer he got. Damn, was he coming to tell me he didn’t want to film my videos anymore after what I’d said last night? That would suck, too.

I’d woken up this morning and immediately inwardly groaned at everything that had transpired last night. I shouldn’t have said anything. I’d probably made him feel weird. “Hey, Jesse, listen,” I started. “I’ve been thinking more about last night. I wanted to say it’s fi—”

“I’ll do it.” His nostrils flared and his eyes burned fierce with determination like he was answering a call to a duel or something, not agreeing to get busy with me.

I forgot what I’d been about to say.Something-somethingapology for making things weird last night. But apparently, I hadn’t made things weird after all. This guy confused me. And that I liked it also confused me. “You will?”

He fell in step beside me with a nod. “Yeah, but I think we should have some ground rules and discuss things first.”

“Definitely.” I nodded emphatically. Fuck, this was great, though. This wasperfect. Jesse would have some idea what he was doing since he’d obviously had more experience than me. We were friends. Or…increasingly friendlyish, so it wouldn’t be too weird. I felt comfortable with him, and I didn’t have to worry about him being a crazy stalker or running off at the mouth.