Page 13 of The Bro Date (Best Bros Forever #2)

I drop Tate off at his apartment, helping him out and giving a small wave to Daija, who’s standing outside in a fuzzy robe with her arms crossed like a disappointed parent. I texted her a heads-up before we left the club that she needed to help her best friend get inside safely.

When we finally get home, I wrap my hoodie around Toby’s shoulders and sneak him upstairs just in case Jake or Spencer is home. I’m on edge, and I’d probably punch them in the face if they had something to say.

“Your room or mine?” I murmur, having to stop myself from picking him up and carrying him there.

“ Mine, ” he whispers, and as soon as I lock the bedroom door, Toby begins to struggle with his harness. “Get. This. Fucking. Thing. Off of me,” he growls cutely, his lean muscles twisting this way and that.

I bite back a smile and set the bag of burritos down on his desk, approaching him as carefully as I might a wild animal.

“Let me,” I insist, grabbing hold of his biceps to settle his squirming.

I carefully undo the buckle between his pecs and loosen the shoulder straps.

“ Arms up, ” I breathe into his ear, sending a shiver down both of our spines.

Toby complies, raising his arms and allowing me to slip the harness up and over his head. “Thank you,” he murmurs, surprising me by bending over and wiggling out of the leather shorts.

I suck in a sharp breath of air, unable to tear my eyes away from the tiny black thong he’s wearing underneath.

His package bulges against the silky fabric, stretching it out and showing the imprint of his cockhead.

He spins around next, showing off his firm, toned ass that’s paler than the rest of his body.

Fuck me.

What is going on with my head?

Clearing my throat awkwardly, I look away until I hear him crawl into bed.

When I glance back, he’s sitting up, leaning against the headboard and staring at me innocently, like he has no clue what he just did.

I glance down at the comforter settled around his lap, knowing what’s underneath and honestly wanting another peek.

Shaking the inappropriate thought away, I grab two water bottles from his mini fridge and the brown paper bag, handing him a foil-wrapped burrito and cold water.

The bottom of the bed seems like a safe place to sit, so I take a seat and dig in.

“ Mmm, ” Toby moans, and I glance at him out of the corner of my eye, watching as sour cream drips down his chin and onto his bare chest.

I nearly choke on the giant bite of burrito I just took, my mind going to dirty, inappropriate places.

“Thanks, Shane,” he says, closing his eyes and chewing with pleasure. “It tastes so fucking good right now. I needed this.”

More creamy white sauce plops onto his chest, and I glance away, unsure why my dick seems to be getting more and more excited by this.

“You’re welcome,” I mumble around a mouthful of beans and rice, letting us enjoy our food and allowing Toby some time to sober up before I say what I need to say.

“So good.” Toby burps, finishing off the last of his water.

When I’m done, I wad up the foil and toss it into the trash can. “So, Toby . . .”

“Hmm?” he hums innocently, sinking further into the bed.

I grab a napkin and scoot closer, dabbing the corners of his mouth and wiping his chest clean. “What the fuck were you thinking tonight?”

My tone seems to perk him up a little. “What do you mean?” his sleepy eyes stare at me, confused.

I grab another napkin and go over the spot again. “You’re nineteen , Toby. You can’t just go out and get wasted with guys you don’t know.”

He shoves my hand away. “I can make my own decisions, Shane.”

“Clearly some pretty poor ones, letting guys you don’t know buy you drinks all night. What if someone slipped you something? You can’t be so trusting all the time, Toby.” I never lecture him like this, but he’s got me riled up when it comes to his safety.

“ I was with Tate! And Landon isn’t a stranger. Besides, nothing happened!” he shouts in defense, sitting up straight and staring me right in the eye. The blanket pools around his lap, hiding his distracting underwear from my gaze.

“But it could have. Bet you didn’t know those assholes gave you alcohol while they had water.”

Toby’s brows crease. “I . . . That’s . . . That’s not true.”

I lean closer. “I was there. Watching. And you better be glad I was,” I growl.

“I don’t need a shadow,” he scoffs, turning his head to the side. “Everything’s fine. Stop stalking my life!”

“Where have you been meeting all these guys anyway?” I ask, remembering the nerd in the coffee shop, the asshole at the movies, and now Mr. Spelling Bee Champion.

Toby hesitates, like he knows I won’t like the answer.

“Just answer the damn question,” I demand.

“I need to brush my teeth,” Toby blurts suddenly, completely avoiding the conversation by jumping out of bed, slipping into a pair of silky basketball shorts from his floor, and darting out of the bedroom.

Hot on his heels, I push Toby into the bathroom, breathing in his ear like an annoying mosquito. “ Tell me. Where the fuck are you meeting all these guys?”

“No,” he retorts stubbornly, and I’m getting impatient.

“Toby.”

“Fiiine,” he whines. “ Grindr .”

Jealousy bubbles to life inside of me like a vat of acid threatening to spill over.

You can’t trust anyone in today’s world.

“Please don’t do that anymore, Toby.”

“Well, I have another date this weekend,” he counters with sass, like he’s been around Tate for too long.

“No. You do not,” I say matter-of-factly.

Over my dead body will he meet up with another horny asshole from Grindr .

“Yes. I do,” he insists with a defiant sparkle in his golden eyes, folding his arms across his bare chest.

“Then, I’ll be there, too. Wherever you go. I will follow.” I raise an eyebrow, daring him to challenge me.

His resolve waivers. “You can’t. You’re working.”

“Nope. Just got fired,” I say calmly, grabbing my toothbrush out of the drawer and squirting some toothpaste on it.

Toby gasps. “ What? Why? What happened?”

I don’t answer, turning the sink on and getting my toothbrush wet before shoving the thing in my mouth and pressing the button.

Toby follows suit, and we stand there staring at each other in the mirror while we brush our teeth.

I spit, rinsing out my mouth and drying off with my designated hand towel.

Toby does the same, asking me his question again. “Why did you lose your job, Shane?”

“I’ve told you before, Toby. You’re more important than any job, and tonight was proof of that.”

His head tilts like a confused little puppy.

He still doesn’t get it.

“I’m going to sleep,” I say tiredly, opening the door and stepping into the hallway. “In my own bed.”

“Shane, wait. Can’t we finish our conversation? Tell me what’s wrong. Please. ”

I spin around, pinning him against the wall and throwing out my own question since he wants to talk about our feelings so badly. “What are you searching for, Toby?” I scan his flushed face before focusing on bright amber eyes. “Hmm?”

This reckless behavior isn’t like him.

“I’ve accepted that I'm gay, if that’s what you mean,” he says defensively, staring right back into my eyes.

“Of course that’s not what I mean, but you’ve been putting yourself in unsafe situations, and I’d be a shitty friend if I wasn’t looking out for you, Tobes. I saw Tate’s stories.”

His face pales. “Can we go back to my room and talk about this?” He slips under my arm, tiptoeing down the hallway and glancing back at me. “ Please? ”

I nod, giving in and following him back to his room, where I take my spot at the end of the bed.

Toby leans against the desk, his tight abs flexing naturally. “I’m not doing anything wrong or dangerous, I’m just dating and going out for once in my life,” he huffs. “Just like any other guy my age.”

“You’re nineteen,” I deadpan. “You haven’t even hit the legal drinking age yet. You actually are doing something wrong.”

Toby purses his lips. “I don’t want to argue with you, Shane. You’re just gonna have to get used to me being with guys.”

His words are a solid punch to the gut.

I don’t want to get used to that. I can’t.

“Are you looking for a boyfriend?” I blurt.

The question tastes sour on my tongue, like bile rushing up a tender throat, ready to choke the life out of me.

I don’t fully understand the feelings growing inside me—the jealousy at seeing him smile and laugh with another man—but it makes my skin crawl so badly that I want to peel it from my bones.

“Hmm.” Toby taps his finger against his bottom lip as if he knows it’s torturing me.

My gaze zeroes in on the soft, plump flesh, staring way too intently while he speaks.

“I’m not sure about a boyfriend, but yes, I think I’d like to be kissed by a boy.

Experiment a little. I’m just having fun, Shane. ”

Then have fun with me.

My heart gallops a million miles a minute like a herd of wild horses running toward the edge of a cliff and diving off, plummeting into the pit of my stomach. I press a hand to my abdomen as if I can feel it beating.

He could get hurt experimenting with people who don’t care about him. That can’t happen.

Something deep within me knows that would fucking destroy me forever.

“No,” I growl low.

“I’m sorry?” His question is breathy and weak.

I stand up from the end of the bed, stepping into his space and staring down at him. An unbreakable, decade-long bond links us together, transcending mere friendship. And no one can get in the way of that. Especially not some random guy.

Without taking my eyes off of his, I reach out, gently cupping his jaw and rubbing my thumb along his cheekbone.

“I can’t stand to see another man touching you.

It doesn’t sit well with me, Toby. I can’t let anything happen to you.

If you want to kiss a boy . . . then, kiss me ,” I whisper, our lips only a breath apart.

He sucks in a sharp breath of air, his pupils dilating. “W-what do you mean?”

“Can I kiss you?” I ask him.

His cheeks flush a beautiful shade of pink that I swipe my thumb along.

“Yes,” he breathes out, closing his eyes and parting his lips. “Please, Shane.”

I slowly and cautiously lean forward until my lips gently press against his.

They’re soft and plush and so fucking nice that I kiss him deeper, allowing my tongue to sneak out and lick at the seam of his mouth.

Toby lets out a whimper, and I seize the opportunity.

His tongue meets mine stroke for stroke.

With the adrenaline flowing, I don’t have time to think about any possible consequences this kiss might have on our friendship, but I don’t regret it.

I could never regret it.

Stubble scrapes my cheek, and something hard pokes my thigh, startling me for a moment before my own cock starts to respond, thickening in my jeans.

What the fuck is happening?

I’m not gay.

I like girls.

But holy fuck, I can’t stop kissing my best friend, and I’m about five seconds away from slipping my hands into his shorts and grabbing two handfuls of bare ass.

“ Shane, ” he moans into my mouth, grinding his erection against my thigh.

“Toby—”

A sudden knock on the bedroom door has us jumping apart, panting and staring at each other with wide, shocked eyes as if we had no control over our own bodies just now.

“Hey, buttholes! Are you in there?”

Great. It’s Jake.

“Go away!” I shout, my voice slightly hoarse.

“Oh, good! Just the person I was looking for. I’m hungry, dude!”

“ Fuck off! I’m not your personal chef, Jake,” I holler through the door, unwilling to face him right now.

“Then come with me to go get some food,” he whines.

“Nah. I’m going to bed.”

“Dude, you’re like an old man with an early-ass bedtime. Boring. ”

“It’s not that early. Now, keep your fucking voice down,” I scold. “Toby passed out, and I’m keeping an eye on him.”

Toby mouths the word hey , folding his arms across his chest in a faux-pout.

“Of course he did. The lightweight,” Jake chuckles, and I nearly laugh when Toby’s eyes narrow. “Well, goodnight then.”

“’Night.”

I press my ear to the door and wait for the sound of Jake’s heavy footsteps to disappear down the stairs before turning back around. Toby’s under the covers, and the silky basketball shorts are lying on the ground again.

Shit.

I swallow thickly, unsure how far we should take this.

“I’m not gay,” I blurt with absolutely no tact. “Or bi.”

Toby’s dimples make an appearance. “Oookay. So, if you’re not gay or bi, then what was that?”

I shrug. “Don’t know. Does it need a label?”

I just want him to be careful and safe. And if that means kissing me, then so be it.

“Of course not, Shane. But can we still have sleepovers?” Toby pulls the covers back, showing off his toned, tanned body in nothing but a black G-string and a pair of dimples.

Fuck me.

I groan, scrubbing a hand down my face in exasperation. He’s going to be the death of my straight card.