Placing the ladder on the hooks provided, I spy something that helps this whole project make a little more sense. Tanner’s leaning over the wall of the truck bed, his hips shifting as he straps down the leftover lights.
“Hey, Tanner. Come over and look at this,” I say, using more bass in my voice than entirely necessary.
His head pops up and he jogs over, expectation in his pretty black-lined eyes as he joins me by the wall. Hell-fuck, I didn’t mean to make that sound like a command, but he sure as shit responded to it like I had.
Like maybe he enjoyed it.
Thank the good Lord I’m not wearing my usual double-starched Wranglers.
Anyway.
“Look here,” I say, unable to keep the command out of my voice. “He’s got a separate electric box and panel of plugs just for Christmas.” I point to the aged masking tape with CHRISTMAS LIGHTS in block letters. “You know, I totally forgot that when his kids were young, he always had the brightest house on the block.”
“Should we add more lights?” he asks, the sparkle in his eyes more than a little conspiratorial.
“Can’t tell.” I scratch my chin. “I’m tempted to, but he might be the sort of guy that gets annoyed if you give him more than he’s asked for.”
Tanner shoulders me and pops his eyebrows. “Desi told me it’s better to ask for forgiveness than permission.”
I crack up, and he smiles as if making me laugh makes him happy.
“Desiwouldsay that.” Grinning down at him, I let my curiosity—or is it jealousy?—get the best of me. “I hear you’ve got a crush on him. Got a thing for the pretty boys, do you?”
The tips of his ears go cherry red, and I wonder how hot they must be. He steps back, which I kinda hate.
“I—that was a temporary sort of thing. I would never disrespect his marriage or whatever,” he explains, gesturing nervously. “He was the first guy I knew in real life who wore makeup like that. Anyway, I asked him about it, and he was nice. We’re just friends, I promise.”
I appreciate the reassurance more than I care to admit. Closing the gap between us, I gently squeeze his shoulder, entirely too satisfied by his sharp, breathy inhale.
“Hey now. I was just teasing you. Who hasn’t had a crush on Desi Navarro—or Sam Goodnight, for that matter? I mean, hell, you get to like what you like. No use coming out if you have to hide yourself.”
His eyes dart to my hand, now rubbing his shoulder, and I track the bobbing motion of his Adam’s apple. Not going to lie. It’s addictive, setting off these minor tells of his.
“Well, I don’t—I’ve had, you know, some experiences with guys at college, and I just like…men? Femme, masc, trans. Uh, guys who are just themselves, I guess?”
I’ve not asked him for an explanation, but it tickles something dark and pleasurable inside my belly that he feels the need to give it.
“Understandable.” I nod, loving his disappointed look when I move my hand from his shoulder. Scratching my beard to keep the troublesome hand occupied, I continue, “College was equally enlightening for me. Felt like I wanted to—respectfully, with all parties on board, of course—try everything.”
He wraps his arms around his middle, and I can’t tell if I regret or enjoy the vulnerability of this pose. “Uh, yeah. I, uh, even had sex with a girl in my class.”
I dip my chin, keeping it conversational. “Same. It was…okay? I guess? I mean, sex is good no matter what, and the oral stuff is cool because…you know, it’s just fun to see how different people work. But it satisfied a curiosity, not a need.”
He takes off his Santa hat, running his hand through his hair, chuckling. “We got about halfway through, and it was so awkward that we called it and went for pizza.”
A deep chuckle rumbles out of me, and his blue eyes widen. He definitely likes the way I laugh.
“It’s good to feel a bit more confident in what you like,” I say, chucking his arm like one of the boys. “I mean, guys look at me and assume I only top. Now, don’t get me wrong, I probably prefer it, but there’s a real fun button in the back there that a lot of guys are missing out on.”
Oh fuck. There go his ears again, totally on fire. That pretty flop of platinum hair is too much of a temptation, and I run my fingers through it. “Sorry, Tanner. Didn’t mean to shock you.”
He bats away my hand and runs his fingers through his hair, more or less putting it back together.
“Shut up,” he grumbles, and it’s all I can do not to put my hands back on him. “I’m notthatshocked. I’ve topped before. Just…didn’t like it as much.”
I snicker, pointing at his face. “Look, dude. You can’t scrunch up your face all disgruntled like that when you look like a goth woodland sprite. Seriously, you’re wearing white freckles and glitter.”
He scoffs, pretending to be mortally offended. “It’s highlighter, not glitter, you Wrangler-wearing troglodyte.”
