Page 104 of Tech Bros

“Everybody looks,” I say.

“How would you know what straight guys do?”

I shrug. It’s a fair point. “Just keep it clean, little bro. Someone will go down on you eventually.”

“I’m very clean.”

“I’m ready to change the subject,” I say. “Tell me about the girl.”

I’m picturingthe conversation I’m supposed to have with Deacon and Evan on the terrace. I turned on the fire pit and the two corner heaters. The thermometer tells me it’s sixty-eight degrees after half an hour of running everything, which is the exact temperature I keep the apartment.

While I’m not planning to get drunk before they get here, I have a glass of wine to settle the wreck of my nervous system, and to my horror, halfway through the glass, I’m bent over the toilet in my bathroom, puking it up.

That’s a first. I shared half a pizza with Jake at his frat house, and it wasn’t bothering me, but there it all is, out of my system. I flush and push myself away from the toilet, taking a moment to catch my breath. I check my shirt, and while there’s nothing on it, I feel newly disgusting. I strip it off, then stand over the sink for fifteen minutes, brushing my teeth and gargling obsessively. Then I wash my face. Twice.

The new shirt I pick out is similar to the first—an expensive version of a long sleeved t-shirt in forest green. I’m in my most comfortable jeans. Soft denim with a dark wash. I have to redo my hair after all the face washing.

But puking is no joke—at least not when I do it. My right eye is now bloodshot from a busted blood vessel or two.

I hate not knowing what to expect. Tonight—how it’s going to go, isn’t fully in my hands, and I could lose the person I depend on most in my life. I could also lose someone I know for a fact could make me happy. I could lose them both.

Open, honest communication is, of course, something I aspire to, but it’s not my general practice. In business, it can leave you vulnerable, and in relationships, it can get you slaughtered. My heart is a soft and squishy thing I do my best to protect behind expensive suits and an intimidating title, but if someone manages to slip past those two guards, I’ve got nothing except an unreliable ability to keep my feelings to myself.

I’m going to get hurt tonight, and my upset stomach knows it. I remind myself it won’t be the worst hurt—that honor will always go to my dear old dad for pushing me out of Jake’s life when I came out, and while that particular defining wound has been plastered over, situations like this—impending rejections—seem to bring it sharply back into focus.

Still, I recognize the need for the three of us to meet. We’ve wound up in an untenable situation through no fault of our own, and now we have to see our way out of it. I should be grateful for the opportunity to keep it amicable, but I’m sick about it.

I expect them to arrive together, so when Deacon steps off the elevator alone, it’s a moment before I can move or speak.

I’m halfway between the kitchen and the living area, and his approach is slow. I swallow on a dry throat at how goddamn good he looks. How powerful. Desire stirs uncomfortably low in my belly as he stalks closer.

Memories of the marathon fucking we did over the weekend come back at me in a rush. The way he moved inside me. The insatiable kisses and his strong hands all over me, containing me and setting me free all at once.

“Where’s Evan?” I ask.

“He’s not here yet?”

I shake my head as Deacon takes a cursory look around, stepping into my space.

“He’ll be here soon. If he’s not, I’ll go get him.”

My hands touch his chest. They move up as his mouth lowers to meet mine. Fuck, the way Iwanthim. His aura of total self-control is begging to be unraveled. There’s a glint in his eyes, too, that seems to ask for it.Try me, it says.

The kiss is soft, and it’s over too soon. He smooths his hands over my shoulders and looks me over. “Are you okay?”

“I’m okay,” I tell him.

“I’ve been thinking about you a lot.”

“I think about you, too.”

“I won’t like it if you decide to stop seeing me,” he says without a hint of manipulation or coercion in the words.

A pained noise escapes my throat at his naked admission. “Why are you saying that? You know that’s not what I want.”

He wraps a hand around the back of my neck. “I can’t imagine someone not wanting you.”

Jesus.I kiss him myself this time and make it last long enough to satisfy me. I have to believe Evan wants us both. My stomach might doubt it, but if he shows up here tonight, I’ll do just about anything to get him to try. With his kiss, I feel how hard Deacon is trying to plead his own case for keeping him around, and it’s working.