While I gaze up at Hopper’s art, I wonder if I can convince Ant to put on real pants again and go for a walk with me after his shower. Maybe we can pick up dinner somewhere on the way—there are a lot of small romantic restaurants in the area. I bet Ryder could get us a reservation…
My reverie is interrupted by the sound of the water being turned off. I grab my change of clothes from my bag, readying for my turn, when he exits the bathroom wearing only a towel. Struggling to keep my eyes to myself, I hurry past him into the bathroom and shut the door just as he’s shucking it off.
I keep my shower short and efficient, then get dressed in the bathroom. I fucking hate the feeling of clothing stuck to wet skin, but I can’t take any chances. I walk out, toweling off my hair, and Ant is sitting at the bar, wearing only short white shorts, concentrating on his phone. Feeling nosy, I walk up behind him and immediately regret it.
“I thought you agreed not to use the apps.”
He lets his phone drop forward and looks back at me with thatAntexpression. “For murders. I’m not supposed to use the apps formurders. I can, however, use them to get laid.”
“Absolutely not,” I say, grabbing his phone from him.
He snarls and rips the phone out of my hands. “I’m going to say this exactly once, Erik, and then never again. Full control of my sex life is really fucking important to someone like me.”
Oh.
Shit.
“I’m…ah, fuck. I’m so sorry, Ant. I just…it worries the shit out of me, the thought of you going out there.”
Also, I am full of inconvenient feelings for you, so if you would not fuck someone else while I figure my shit out, that would be awesome. Thanks.
He quirks his brow at me. “I’m sorry, but all the murdering gets me horny. Just a bit of whimsy from my many years of trauma.” He returns his focus to the screen, scrolling through man after man. He spares me another sharp look before continuing, “And I’m not using an app. Hopper sent me Luca’s roster and said they were all incredibly sweet and fully vetted.”
I continue to rub the towel over my hair, trying to…I dunno. Square this circle. When I talked to Charlie, I wanted to be a little more cautious. Take things slow. Get through the rest of the trip and then explore what we can be.
Maybe take that word-slash-feeling out for a spin in my head a few more times.
I suppose if the conversation with Charlie hadn’t been like an atom bomb going off in the center of me, if I had any shred of equilibrium left, I could just admit to the strong feelings I have for Ant and then ask him not to go with one of Luca’s guys.
But I’d be one helluva hypocrite to try to convince him not to go with one of Luca’s guys when I’ve indulged with some of those same men. Especially since I have no claim on him.
Tossing the towel aside, I run my hand through my still-damp hair. I need to step back and stop putting my nose where it doesn’t belong. I need to…fuck…I need to let this happen, even if it makes me want to punch a wall.
I sit with that sentiment for exactly point two seconds, and…yeah, fuck that.
I don’t give a shit if it makes me a hypocrite. I don’t care if they’re blessed by the Pope himself. Luca’s sexy, sweet guys don’t have the right to put their grubby fingerprints on him. They don’t know his story. They don’t know how careful they need to be with him. Honestly, I’d rather—
My brain goes dead quiet for a solid ten-count.
Yeah, not going to finish that sentence.
“What’s this look?” Ant asks, hopping off the barstool to push against my chest with the tip of his finger. “It’s like your operating system just rebooted in the middle of a thought.”
His luminous eyes hold worry and mischief. It’s been a long day, and my eye falls to the five o’clock shadow on his jawline. The prominent Adam’s apple. His small but masculine hands. The toned muscles of his forearms.
Finally, my eyes land on his stupidly stupid short shorts. Seriously, fuck Luca’s boys. No, actually…
“Fuck me,” I say, the words falling out of my mouth before I have a chance to filter them.
Frustration curls his lip. “This isn’t aboutyou, Erik. This is about me, and I’m finally getting laid one way or another,” he says, pulling up Luca’s list again.
I place my palm over his phone, loving how my hand dwarfs his.
“I do want you to get what you need. I’m not sayingfuck melike a curse. I’m saying fuckme. Do that withme. Take what you need fromme.”
He pulls his chin back and looks at me with such incredulity I wonder if I haven’t fucked up our friendship. Brotherhood?
Yeah, no. We are definitely notbrothers.
