Page 125

Blake

B lake was pacing. Across—and back across and then across once again—their tiny motel room. It was maybe weird of him, since he was pretty sure he’d never paced before, had only seen it in movies. But he’d never experienced this kind of nervous restlessness before either.

Cass was missing. Missing.

Well, okay, he’d texted just a second ago that he was alive and he’d be back in ten minutes, but he’d been missing. All fucking night. Blake had barely slept at all, waking what felt like every five minutes thinking he’d heard the ding of a text or the buzz of a phone call.

Blake didn’t get it. It wasn’t like Cass at all.

Cass could be a little absent-minded, sure, when it came to taking care of himself.

He’d forget to eat breakfast or take his jacket when it was cold out.

Blake had gotten used to reminding him of those little things.

But when it came to other people, Cass was…

thoughtful. Sweet was probably a better word for it, even though Blake didn’t usually go around thinking of other guys as sweet.

Cass always said please and thank-you to everyone, always coupled the polite words with these shy, adorable smiles no one could help responding to.

He was a good communicator, never making Blake wait for a text or a call back. He didn’t play stupid games.

Which was why it had already been unsettling enough the night before, when he hadn’t been responding to Blake’s invite out, not even to decline in that overly polite way he did sometimes.

Had the invitation itself been the problem?

Had Blake scared him off with the mention of strangers?

If so, Blake wanted to kick himself. He should have known better.

He did know better. Cass had always been shy of new people.

But Blake had been flush with the excitement of a great day of powder, and the three dudes he’d kept running into on the slopes had offered to buy him a beer afterward.

He had thought Cass would maybe like them.

One of them was even a big reader, and Cass fucking loved books.

Maybe they would have hit it off. Maybe Cass would have even, like, really liked him…

Blake frowned, kicking softly at the motel’s desk and shaking that thought from his head.

He couldn’t picture Cass with any of the snowboarders from yesterday.

He didn’t exactly want to. Not that he had any problem with Cass liking dudes the way he did.

Just… It was hard to imagine the right guy for him, one who would appreciate all the little things Blake had come to appreciate, in their time rooming together.

Cass stocking all the sodas Blake liked in his mini fridge, since Blake didn’t have one of his own.

The way he listened—really listened—in a way few of Blake’s buddies ever did.

The way he was the absolute best study buddy in the world, quiet and intense but always down for a late-night diner trip after, to unwind with loaded fries and milkshakes.

Blake had really lucked out, rooming with him.

He had been hoping Cass would agree to it next year.

And after—well, after college they’d still be friends, wouldn’t they?

Hell, they were both from Phoenix. They could get a bachelor pad together or something.

There was no reason they couldn’t keep living together for years to come.

If Cass came back, that was. Which he would.

He’d said he would. He’d just really freaked Blake out was all.

And Blake maybe wouldn’t believe he was safe until he saw him—that shy smile, his messy hair, that cute little upturned nose he always scrunched when he found something funny, or confusing, or—

Blake was finally able to quit his pacing when the door opened. And there was Cass, looking….well, not quite like Blake had expected. He’d expected him to be sheepish—embarrassed, maybe—but he looked…

Blake didn’t quite know. Cass’s gray-blue eyes were bright and shining, his smattering of freckles standing out in sharp contrast to his pale face, but his cheeks were high with color.

Had he run all the way there or something?

“S-Sorry,” Cass mumbled, standing statue still in the doorway. He looked almost afraid, standing there. Did he think Blake was mad at him? That he’d yell or something?

Never. Blake would never yell at him.

“Cass.” Blake held his arms open, walking forward, hoping to coax him out of the doorway.

But he didn’t get far before Cass beat him to it, running into his arms at an alarming speed.

Blake caught him and wrapped him up tight.

They didn’t hug much—what was the need, when they saw each other literally every day?

—but that was a shame because hugging Cass was kind of perfect.

He was small and slim, easy to get ahold of, and his head tucked perfectly under Blake’s chin.

They should definitely hug more. And they kind of were already because Cass wasn’t letting go.

He’d started rubbing his nose against Blake’s chest in a way that sort of tickled, mumbling something into the fabric of Blake’s T-shirt.

“What was that, buddy?”

Cass lifted his head just slightly, enough for the words to come out without creating any real distance between them. “Smell good.”

Well, that definitely couldn’t be true, after Blake’s restless, sweaty night, but oh well, who was he to argue? Cass smelled good too. He always did. Kind of sweet, like his personality. Maybe it was his shampoo.

“Are you—did something bad happen?” Blake asked, barely daring to breathe in case the answer was yes.

“Met a guy,” Cass mumbled. “At a bar.”

“Oh. Oh .” Blake tried to think through the weird, rancid curl in his gut. He didn’t need to treat this like a big deal. It wasn’t. Cass could spend the night with whoever he wanted. “Did you finally lose that V card, buddy?” Blake tried for light and teasing, but it come out strangled.

Cass was still—well, he was either shaking his head or just trying to rub his nose into Blake’s sternum. Or maybe both. “Nothing happened,” he said. “Drank too much.”

“And that’s why you didn’t text? You passed out?

” The thought was kind of horrifying. Cass should know better than to get hammered with some strange dude.

Anything could have happened to him. But maybe now wasn’t the time to talk about that, not when Cass was clearly still out of it from whatever had happened.

“Sorry,” Cass mumbled again.

“It’s okay.” Blake rubbed his hand up and down Cass’s spine, trying to soothe him. “Just, um, try to remember next time, okay? I was pretty worried.” That was maybe the understatement of the year, judging by how shaky Blake was from the sheer force of relief running through his veins. Holy fuck.

It wasn’t like Blake was usually this protective of his friends. It was just… Most of the guys he knew could take care of themselves. Not that Cass couldn’t, but he was just so…sweet. It would be way too easy for some creep to take advantage of him.

Blake realized they’d been hugging for what was probably a completely inappropriate amount of time, but he was still reluctant to let go.

Which was probably for the best because not only was Cass not letting go, but he was now pushing Blake back with surprising strength—seriously, when had he gotten so strong?

—until his knees hit the motel’s desk chair.

Blake was sitting before he knew it, and then he had a lapful of Cass. Which was…new. But also…nice?

Cass fit perfectly in his lap, and he really did smell so good. “Are you sure you’re okay? This guy didn’t…do anything?”

“Bit me.”

Blake managed to laugh through another surge of what felt an awful lot like jealousy. “Oh yeah? You got a hickey? Let me see.”

But Cass still had his head buried in Blake’s chest. And he was kind of…

squirming. It was honestly a little distracting because his ass kept brushing against Blake’s dick, and Blake may have been straight, but…

Well, friction was friction, especially with a soft, sweet-smelling bundle of Cass in his arms.

“Um, buddy?” Blake said, keeping his voice soft and nonjudgmental. “We’re about to have a situation if you keep moving like that. I’m only human, man.”

Cass only slid himself even tighter against him, and then Blake realized they already had a situation because Cass…

Cass was hard.

Blake could feel it through the stiff material of Cass’s ridiculous dress pants, pressed against his stomach.

Which may have short-circuited his brain for a hot second, but who could blame him?

He’d just never had another dude’s hard dick pressed against him.

He should be turned off, even with all the squirming.

But then Cass finally looked up at him, and… Oh, wow. His cheeks were still flushed, and his eyes had grown darker, the pupils blown wide.

He looked desperate.

And maybe that shouldn’t have been doing things for Blake, but it kind of, sort of was. He could feel the blood rushing south to his dick, faster than it had any right to.

But then Cass’s cute little nose was scrunching up. “I’m sorry!” he moaned. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

Blake tried to think through this new, unexpected fog of lust. “Did you, um, take something? Last night?”

“No!” Cass shook his head in agitated denial. “You just smell so good, and I’m all—I’m all—”

Blake smirked down at him. “Horny as hell?”

“Blake!” Cass whined. “It’s not funny.”

“I’m sorry, baby, I know it’s not.” The endearment sort of just slipped out, and Blake didn’t have it in him to take it back. He’d meant to say “buddy,” like usual.

But Cass didn’t even seem to notice, and he was just looking so goddamn distraught by his own arousal that Blake couldn’t help it. He shifted his hips, making Cass aware of his own…situation. “It’s fine. See, baby? Everybody gets turned on sometimes.”