Page 30 of You, Again

Our tongues twisted greedily, sucking and licking until the kiss became demanding and more dangerous by the second. We were veering from accidental happenstance to something deliberate and difficult to explain. And I couldn’t stop it to save my life. I hadn’t been with a man in too long, and even though Vinnie was the original bad idea, he felt so fucking good.

And damn, did I mention he knew how to kiss?

When we finally broke for air, he rested his forehead on mine for a beat and gently stepped away.

“We’re very fucking good at that,” he rasped, his voice thick and gravelly.

I almost swooned. “Yeah. We are.”

He pecked my cheek and opened the door. “G’night, Nol.”

Wait. What?

“I—should we talk about this?” I stepped into the hallway and almost tripped over Spencer, who immediately started barking.

“Nolan, honey? Are you still here?” My mother called from downstairs.

“Yes.” I released an exasperated breath and shot a dirty look at my amused companion as my mom instructed me to join her in the kitchen to help put away the platters she stored on a pantry shelf she’d never been able to reach without help. “Be right there, Ma.”

Vinnie smiled gently. “Go help your mom. We can talk another time. And don’t worry…we’re cool.”

Were we, though? Was “cool” even possible?

It had taken me years to get Vinnie out of my system. Many years. And now…I was back to square one.

Way to go, Moore.

7

VINNIE

Did I just come out?

I hadn’t specifically said those words. Or had I?

Sure, I’d admitted I’d thought about kissing Nolan and rubbing up on him. That was pretty gay. But I was skilled in the art of skirting uncomfortable topics. I could brush it off, blame it on tequila, and move on, happy in the knowledge that our friendship was on solid ground again.

But that kiss was five thousand times better than the accidental one I’d milked into something almost real at the diner. It was more potent than whatever we’d done in the dark when we were teenagers. Yeah, this was the real deal. And it was amazing. Earthshakingly amazing.

I wanted to do it again…and again. With Nolan.

I had no desire to relive any part of the past now that I knew what he was like today. His broad chest, toned and muscular physique, and…that mouth. Nothing about him felt familiar and yet, he fit me perfectly. We were like two cogs clicking into place, revving an engine to life.

Everything about him turned me on.

I jacked off in the shower as soon as I got home from Sunday dinner, visions of Nolan dancing in my mind. The way he’d pushed me against the door, covered my mouth and my body. My imagination supplied a new storyline with Nolan on his knees, sucking me like it was his job. I came like a racehorse sprinting for the finish line, bracing my palm on the cool white tile to avoid keeling over when a monster orgasm ripped through me.

It happened again the following morning…and afternoon. Oh, yeah, and last night.

Look, on some level, I’d known for a while that I was bisexual. I simply hadn’t been ready to adopt a label. Labels were tricky for athletes who worked to gain notice in their sport. I liked women too, and no one talked about that. They talked about what a badass I was on the ice. As it should be.

I wanted my fans to analyze the shots I took and the bruises I delivered, not secretly speculate what I did or didn’t do in the bedroom. Was I a top or a bottom? Was I attracted to twinks, geeks, jocks? It was no one’s fucking business. And since I’d never let myself go there, I wasn’t sure what the answers were anyway.

One advantage of being a little older was that I didn’t need to google the sexual part of bisexuality. I wasn’t that same naïve teenager anymore. I knew what went where and what I hadn’t experienced firsthand, I’d certainly seen in porn. Granted, there was generally a woman in the mix, but I’d seen guy-on-guy action too. I’d purposely never sought it out, but if two dudes were sucking each other in a hot threesome, I didn’t turn it off.

Maybe I’d been subconsciously watching them, though, admiring their perfect asses and impressive dicks. Maybe I’d—Okay. Stop.

And this was why I couldn’t be trusted in my own head.