Page 23 of The Bro Date (Best Bros Forever #2)
CHAPTER NINETEEN
TOBY
E ver since the blow job last weekend, Shane has been more touchy-feely than usual.
When we’re around the house, he doesn’t care if Jake or Spencer sees when he gives me a quick kiss in the hallway.
But between Shane’s job and my extra practice sessions for the end-of-the-year symphony and concerto, we haven’t had time to hang out or hook up since.
My phone suddenly buzzes in my early morning English Lit class, pulling me from my thoughts. I sneak it out and check my texts under the desk. This class has a hundred students in it, and I’m sitting at the top, so the professor can’t see me.
I can’t stop thinking about your mouth.
The simple yet hot-as-fuck text has my face turning bright red as if the entire class can read his message. My heart starts to beat faster, and my dick chubs up.
Shit.
I take a deep, calming breath and will the boner away.
I can’t stop thinking about your dick.
I hit send before I can second-guess myself, chewing on my lip nervously while I wait for Shane’s response.
Meet me by the fountain in the quad at noon.
I’ll be there.
I put my phone away and attempt to focus on the professor’s lecture. But it’s hard because all I can think about is what else I want to do with Shane’s cock.
My next class crawls by just as slowly, but it’s finally noon and time to meet up with Shane.
I’m sitting on the edge of the iconic pineapple fountain, surrounded by flowers and palm trees, waiting for Shane to get here. A refreshing breeze surrounds me, but the sun’s too bright, so I dig my sunglasses out of my bag and slip them on.
A penny suddenly flies past my head, plopping into the water next to me. I glance up, shielding the sun with my hand.
“Hey,” I say, getting up from the edge and just standing there in front of him.
“Hey,” he replies, sweeping his hair out of his eyes with a shake of his head.
“What was that?” I ask, hiking a thumb over my shoulder at the penny in the fountain.
“Just making a wish I hope will come true.”
“Oh yeah?” I murmur as he steps into my space, staring down at me intensely.
He reaches out, tracing the curve of my face.
“Shane,” I breathe. “Everyone on campus is going to know about us by tomorrow if you do this.”
“Don’t care,” he mumbles, cupping my cheek and staring into my eyes. Or more accurately, into my soul. “I can’t make it through the day without kissing you.”
My knees feel unsteady as a wave of euphoria washes over me.
Shane wraps an arm around my waist, tugging me to him and kissing me hard .
Like he’s staking a claim for all to see.
His touch is hot and possessive, and I crave it.
Desire flares to life inside of me, urging me to take this home, but I can’t. I have to get to class. We both do.
Besides it feeling like a movie-worthy moment, nothing earth-shattering happens when Shane kisses me publicly. No one catcalls, no one whistles, no one cares. Everyone is just going about their daily routines, minding their business, and unconcerned with mine.
It feels good. It feels freeing.
Shane breaks away from the kiss, pressing his forehead against mine and breathing heavily. “I gotta get to class. Will you wait up for me tonight? I should be home at ten.”
“Yeah,” I breathe out. “I’m looking forward to it.”
Shane growls low, nipping at my bottom lip one last time before he turns and storms down the pathway like he has to physically force himself away from me.
I feel the same way, and I can’t freaking wait to have alone time tonight.
“Toby! One more time, from the top!” my orchestra teacher, Professor Goldblum, shouts at me, moving his baton in a downbeat followed by a quick rebound upward to starting position.
I sigh, adjusting my chin and neck before starting my solo performance—my concerto. For the fifth time this afternoon.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m excited for the end-of-the-year symphony and especially my concerto, but right now, I’m ready to get the hell out of here and get ready for tonight with Shane.
Distracted by my thoughts, I miss a note, my violin screeching unpleasantly. Heat rushes to my cheeks as Professor Goldblum stops the whole class.
“Again, from the top!” he shouts. “Tobias, please try to stay in tune, considering you are the centerpiece for this part of the symphony, hmm?”
Luke snickers next to me, enjoying my humiliation. “Yeah, first chair ,” he sneers, like he doesn’t think I deserve it.
Asshole.
His opinion doesn’t matter and won’t change anything.
I get through the rest of class without any hiccups, but as we’re leaving, Luke decides to corner me outside the classroom. “Quit daydreaming about your boyfriend and focus on the performance, Toby. If you fuck up, you ruin the whole show.”
“I . . .” I’m stunned by his words.
“I saw you in the quad with Shane Carmichael.”
“He’s not my boyfriend.” I don’t know why that’s the only thing that comes out of my mouth, the words tasting sour and untrue.
“Whatever,” he snorts. “I don’t care about any drama you have with your boyfriend , just don’t let it fuck up the symphony, or I’ll have no other choice but to go to Professor Goldblum and request that second chair takeover as the principal.”
Of course. Because he’s the second chair.
This prick has been gunning for my first chair position since I beat him out for it at the beginning of the semester.
“There is no drama, and my personal life has nothing to do with my music,” I snap, pushing past him with my shoulder and getting the hell out of here.
Luke sticks his foot out, and suddenly I’m airborne, landing with a loud thud on the hard, linoleum floor.
My violin case goes flying, sliding across the floor and crashing into someone’s feet.
I follow the familiar-looking sneakers up a long pair of jean-covered legs, followed by a tight black T-shirt, until I meet a pair of furious yet concerned eyes.
I glance over my shoulder, and the fear on Luke’s face is real when he sees who it is.
Shane.
My best friend and supposed boyfriend .
Professor Goldblum comes rushing out of the classroom and thankfully snatches Luke up before Shane can rush over there and get his hands on him. “What in tarnation is going on out here?” His bushy gray eyebrows bunch together as he peers around, assessing the situation.
Shane picks up my violin, then kneels down and helps me sit up. I rub my sore wrist, hissing at the raw skin. I glare at Luke, completely shocked that he would take things this far. “What the hell, Luke?” I demand, not giving two craps about cussing in front of our teacher. My wrist hurts.
“It was an accident,” he replies with zero remorse in his cold blue eyes. He brushes perfectly styled blond hair off his forehead, completely unbothered by what just happened.
“That’s it. You’re going to the dean, young man,” Professor Goldblum barks at Luke, shaking his head in disappointment. “And you,” he says to me. “You’re going to the nurse.” His kind yet stern eyes dart to Shane. “I gather you can help him get there, young man?”
Shane nods. “Of course.”
“Nurse Miller will give you a note for your next class if you need one.”
“Thank you, sir,” I say genuinely, allowing Shane to wrap his arm around me.
Luke just snorts, rolling his eyes and further ruining his reputation and his spot in the orchestra. I wouldn’t be surprised if he loses the second chair position over this. He certainly doesn’t deserve it. Luke isn’t a team player and never has been.
“Let’s go, Luke. Dean Williams can deal with you and your attitude.”
“I already said it was an accident,” he whines uselessly. “It’s not my fault Toby is so clumsy.”
Shane practically growls at Luke while Professor Goldblum leads him down the hallway in the opposite direction, scolding him the whole way.
“Are you okay?” Shane whispers, focusing his entire attention on my wrist and the red, raw skin.
“Yeah. Think so. It’s just a little sore and stings from the floor burn.” I rotate my wrist in a circle, thankfully not feeling any sharp pain.
“Let’s get you to the nurse anyway. Can’t take any risks with your playing hand.”
I melt into Shane’s side, allowing his strength and compassion to hold me up. He is the pillar in my life and always has been.
And I’m going to reward him for it later.