Rafi’s eyes open up like saucers, and he takes a step back. “I—oh, no. I could not do that. But thank you for asking. It’s just too soon for me. But thank you,” he says, nervous and repeating himself. He turns heel and walks directly away from me, only to turn around again. “I’m—sorry. It’s not you, I promise. I just…” He lets the words die off, looking pained. Scratch that, looking on the verge of tears.
I understand his anxiety. “It’s okay. Getting out for the first time is the hardest part. Good job.” I wink at him, and he smiles again before turning around and heading out the door.
A few seconds later, a familiar-looking tattooed guy comes up next to me, his jaw tight. “Did he leave?”
I look around, not quite sure if he’s talking to me. “You mean Rafi?”
Oh yeah, that’s right. Tattoo guy is Everett. His face was right at junk level when he helped them get me on the stretcher.Great.
Everett looks at me, his pretty blue eyes a sharp contrast to his mostly silver hair. Damn, he’s an attractive man. “His name is Rafi? The cute shorty?”
“Yeah, I think we’re talking ’bout the same guy.”
“Shit, I meant to get his number tonight.”
“Eh, I already tried. I think he’s just getting over a breakup or something.”
Everett turns to me, his jaw sharpened. “Wait, aren’t you already seeing Roly?”
Uhhhh. “N-no. Not seeinganyone. And hey, if you like the little guy, I won’t pursue anything. Just… you might want to give him some time.”
Everett nods and then looks across the gym. “Okay then. But if you want to act like you haven’t been with Roly, you might want to tell him,” he says, jutting his chin over to the climbing wall. I take a quick look, and Roly is looking right at us. Aggravating. And shirtless.
Ah hell, his body isridiculous.
Everett’s sharp-jawed grin is mocking me, and he chucks my chin. “You might want to do something about that drool there.”
He walks off, laughing to himself.
I look back at the wall, and Roly’s back to climbing. I have to force myself to look away because these workout pants hide jack shit. My eyes drift back and… I grunt. I mean, not loudly, or anything, but it was definitely a back-of-the-throat grunt. His ass is an absolute peach, and I want to taste every inch of it until he’s coming in my hand.
Well,that’snot the kind of thinking that’s going to maintain my dignity in these joggers.
At that exact moment, I hear Roly’s name and find two enormous bears chatting with a trim, athletic guy as they point to the climbing wall. The guy gives them a blinding smile and jogs off to the wall, climbing it like a monkey.
“Do you think he’ll be able to convince Roly to come home with us?” the chubbier one asks the more muscular one.
“Have you seen how charming he is? Baby, by the end of the night, you’ll be balls-deep in that little slice of heaven, and I’ll get to see exactly how vers Jordan actually is.”
The Jordan in question reaches Roly, and I feel like I’m about two degrees shy of stalker status. I mean, it’s absolutely none of my business who that man is fucking. Having sampled the goods, I can’t say I’m surprised about their interest, though I’m having a harder time explaining why my fingers are curled into fists at the prospect.
* * *
Roly
It’s Bear Night, my favorite night of the week, and I have decided to let go of trying to understand Heath Treadway. Fuck it. A few very fine bears have been sniffing around this bussy of mine, and I’m-a let someone in tonight.
With that in mind, I go home and prepare with a proper cleanout so that I can get me some of that deep fucking action. I also wear the shortest and tightest shorts reasonable for a gym environment and choose the green Wrecked T-shirt that pops just so against my skin. Not that I’m going to be wearing it for very long; it’s warm outside, and I plan on getting a workout.
I start with the climbing wall because it gives my short ass the perfect view of everyone in the gym, allowing me to pick out a couplefew candidates for the night. I hand Elijah my T-shirt, step into a harness, pick a handhold, and start my ascent. The climbing wall is always harder than it looks, so by the time I’m halfway up, I’m sweating and my muscles glisten just the right amount in the gym lights. I look down, and Jordan, a lanky, young Marine who’s been trying to get my attention, starts to climb his way up.
Poor, sweet innocent boy—he has not a chance in hell with me.
I turn my attention back to the climbing and soon enough feel him catch up to me.
“Hey, Roly, how’s it going?”
“Hey, Jordan, I’m fine. How are you?” I ask, completely and utterly disinterested.
