“Tell me about it,” he says, and I spend the rest of the brief bus ride telling him all about the places I’ve gone and the beautiful pictures I’ve taken, all thanks to him.
FLYNN
After checking in and getting our room keys, Real and I exchange phone numbers and agree to meet in the lobby once we’re settled in so we can grab some dinner together. As soon as I’m in my room, I toss my bag down on my bed and let out thewhoopthat’s been building inside me since I spotted my long-lost best friend on the boat.
Shit like this doesn’t happen in real life, and I’m not about to let my second chance slip through my fingers. First thing’s first, I need to take a quick shower and make myself presentable. Fuck knows nothing ruins a potential moment like swamp crotch when a guy tries to go down on you.
If Real and I only have a week here together, I’m not about to waste a second of it.
My cock hardens as I slip out of my clothes and start the shower, throbbing as it thickens against my thigh, too heavy to stand fully upright. I reach down and give myself a few slow strokes. Not enough to go anywhere, but enough to double downon the promise of some fun tonight. Assuming Real is into it, of course.
A happy feeling of anticipation blooms in my stomach as I step under the cool shower spray and soap up with the complimentary whiskey-scented bar soap. It smells like a sexy as fuck man, which only makes my cock harder.
I’ve thought of trying to find Real a million times in the past few years. Thought of it, typed his name into social media and Google a hundred times, and deleted it without actually searching. I’ve asked myself if I’ll ever work up the nerve to go through with it, wondering what I’d say if I did…
I stick my face under the stream of lukewarm water and run my hands over it to wash away the sweat that’s been clinging to my skin all day.
Over the years, I’ve had dozens of men in and out of my bed, but not a single one of them ever came close to my heart. I kept that set on my best friend, even after all this time, even when it seemed unlikely I’d ever see him again.
I finish rinsing the soap and shut off the water, sighing a little as I reach for a towel to dry myself. I don’t want to get ahead of myself. It’s unlikely that he feels the same way. Besides, for all I know, he might live on the other side of the world now. I’m going to take this week as it comes and be happy with whatever happens, even if it’s nothing more than new memories to add to the box markedRealin my mind.
I get dressed in a black tank top with large armholes that dip down far enough to show off the body I’ve spent too many hours at the gym working on. I’m not above using my physique to entice the man, no matter how shamelessly I have to do it. I pull on a pair of shorts, slip my feet into sandals, and then text Real to let him know I’m heading down to the lobby.
When I get downstairs, he’s already waiting, looking freshly showered and a thousand kinds of tempting in a billowing, unbuttoned shirt and a pair of tight dusky-pink shorts. As soon as he sees me, his face lights up with a thousand-watt smile. It’s the same one that used to make me feel ten feet tall and like he was sure I’d hung the moon.
For too many years, I thought I was just a bit of an egomaniac, and that’s why I loved Real’s attention so much. It wasn’t until after he tried to kiss me that I started to realize I didn’t just like his attention and adoration. I wanted to kiss him and touch him and do extremely gay things with him. It took me several months to draw the inevitable conclusion that I wanted those things because I was, in fact, gay. What can I say? I’ve never been an honor student or anything.
The problem was, by the time I managed to work through all of that, it was too late to do anything about it…until now.
“Look at that. Sweet, little, terrified-of-needles Real Wilson has a tattoo.” I reach out with my finger and trace the colorful trail of ink that extends over his hip and dips below his shorts, goosebumps popping up in my wake.
He sways toward me, licking his lips as his breath hitches. “It’s a dragon.”
“Mm,” I hum, brushing against the waistband of his shorts before dropping my hand. “Maybe you can show me later.”
He nods without hesitation. Our eyes meet and heat sizzles between us, tempting me to suggest we order room service and lock ourselves in my room for the rest of the night.
“I asked the guy at the front desk, and he said we should eat at the Palm Island Eatery downtown. He said we can’t miss it if we just walk past the pool and keep going. Although, he did warn me that walking past the pool isn’t as easy as it seems.” Real smiles mischievously. “Apparently, it’s better than a live porn show out there.”
I chuckle. “Challenge accepted.”
Chapter 3
REAL
The concierge, who proudly wears a name tag labeledNacho—I’m hard skeptical that’s his birth name—wasnotwrong about the pool situation.
“I didn’t think that was possible.” I tilt my head hard to one side, mesmerized by the shocking display of flexibility before me.
“You must not watch much porn,” Flynn murmurs, equally as transfixed.
I snort a laugh and jab my elbow into him. “Or the wrong kind of porn, apparently.”
We manage to make it past the incredible double-jointed man, as well as a handful of blowjobs and one three-way in the making. By the time we hit the pavement of the sidewalk, I’m sporting a semi and sneaking glances at Flynn out of the corner of my eye to see if he’s in the same position.
Yup, major bulge. Fuck, I forgot what a nice bulge he has. I spent entirely too much time sneaking surreptitious looks when we were young, praying he wouldn’t notice. The back of his handbumps against mine as we walk, and it hits me,reallyhits me that after all these years, he’s actually standing right next to me. My skin tingles at the realization and a smile jumps to my lips in an instant.
“What?” he asks, glancing over and obviously noticing the dopey smile I’m sporting.
