“Let me wash the sex off,” Grayson mumbled, heading back toward his room.
I plucked my shirt away from my chest, giving it a sniff to make sure I wasn’t also in need of a shower. All I smelled was detergent and a bit of Colin’s body wash, and I had no interest in washing that off. I loved the smell of him, my blood running hot whenever I caught a whiff because it was impossible to smell him without thinking of him, and it was even harder to think about him without thinking about him with my cock in his mouth. Shifting my weight, I shoved my dick down, not wanting to deal with an erection on my own, or while I was waiting for Grayson.
At least twenty minutes passed before Grayson was out of the shower and ready to go, and even as he sat down beside me on the couch to lace his sneakers, he looked like he was still half asleep.
“Are you sure you want to go out?” I asked, wary.
“I need air.”
“You look like you might be sick.”
He pursed his lips, swallowing. “No. I’m good.”
I stood up and he followed after, moving noticeably slower, so I took my time gathering up my phone, wallet, and keys. I had a couple text messages from Hendrix that could wait and a missed call from my mom, but that could wait too.
“Do you want me to drive?” I finally asked, after we reached the lobby without any real direction.
“Air,” he said again, gesturing toward the front lobby doors. “Walking.”
We crossed the street to the walkway that ran parallel to the coastline, then headed north. There were some beachside restaurants about half a mile down the path. I figured they would be busy, considering how nice the weather was, but Grayson really did look like he needed the air so I didn’t think he’d mind sitting and waiting.
“Did you have a long night?” I asked, trying to make conversation as we slowly made our way north. The sand was already getting crowded with people, volleyball games popping up every few feet, blankets and umbrellas spread out between them.
“A long life,” he grumbled.
We reached one of the restaurants and Grayson gestured toward it like he had the door of our building. There was about a dozen people outside, milling around and clearly waiting for tables.
“I’ll put our name in,” I said.
He went to a small bench along the side of the building and sat down with a loudoomph. I gave our name to the hostess and took the twenty minute wait time back to Grayson, who nodded like at the end of the line he’d get beheaded instead of bacon.
“I feel like you need to talk to someone.” I sat beside him and he dropped his head against the wall. “Do you want me to call Miles?”
“Absolutely not.” He scrubbed a hand down his face. “Tell me about Colin.”
“Uhm…what about him?”
“You and him.”
“He doesn’t make me feel silly for how old I am or how inexperienced I am.” My cheeks warmed, and I didn’t think it was because of the sun. “He’s easy to talk to, nice to be around.”
“Nice.” The way Grayson repeated the word sounded like it was an obscenity.
“What do you guys talk about?”
“Anything.” I shrugged. “Everything.”
There were obvious differences between us. Our age for one, our career paths, our life experience. But Colin hadn’t ever made me feel lesser for any of it. I appreciated that about him. There was never comparison or competition. He had listened with a sympathetic ear while I’d talked about David and not shown one ounce of jealousy.
“What do you talk about with the people you date?” I asked.
He scoffed and slid his sunglasses down his nose to give me an amused look before sliding them back up.
“I don’t date.”
“The people you take home.”
“We don’t talk,” he said.
