My sides hurt from laughing, and I had to put my mug down so as not to choke on my coffee. “Oh god, that’s awful. I’m sorry you had to endure that.” I patted his hand over the table and left it there, my heart beating faster at the warmth of it underneath mine. Swallowing, I met Beck’s gaze, and the intense look sent goose bumps rising up my arms. Did he feel it too? That pull… that crackling between us.
“Nah,” he said, his voice lower than a moment before. “It was quite entertaining.”
I wrapped my fingers over his, tracing my thumb over his knuckles. Fuck, the tingling excitement from the simple touch warmed me all the way to my toes.
Beck’s phone pinged with a message, and he snatched his hand away, looking busy with hiscoffee and the crumbs on his plate. He checked the screen quickly and set his phone aside.
That reminded me that Elena and Jen would be worried about me. “I need to get going, but I should tell my friends I haven’t been abducted.” I met Beck’s warm gaze as he watched me from over the rim of his mug. “Well, kind of.” I smirked. Beck’s eyes crinkled with amusement. “Where’s my phone?”
“Charging by the couch.”
Soft bed, excellent breakfast, and phone charged. Damn, I could get used to this. Putting a leash on my hungover thoughts, I shuffled to the phone and fired it up. The group chat with Elena and Jen had thirty messages. With a groan, I scrolled through the exclamations going from hopeful encouragement of my cock getting some action to worry over me not updating my whereabouts. It was like having two annoying, nosy moms.
I’m alive and coming home soon.
Replies popped up instantly, but I closed the chat and returned to the kitchen. The sight of Beck with an armful of my folded clothes sent a wave of something through me. I didn’t want to leave. But I had no reason to stay either.
“I’m sorry again. I shouldn’t—”
“It’s fine.” Beck waved a hand in dismissal. “You need a lift?”
“No, you did enough.” And so much more. “I’ll get an Uber.” I glared at his smirk. “And attempt not to puke in it.” Our hands brushed when I took my clothes. The electricity that sent goose bumps up my arms could not be blamed on my hungover state. “I owe you breakfast,” I blurted out, still dazed by the skin-to-skin contact.
Beck’s brows shot up.
“No, I mean, like food. Can I take you out? For lunch?” Where was a handy black hole to unravel and swallow me when I needed one?
“Sure. You got my number.”
Chapter Seven
Beck
Normal people answered texts.
A week had passed since that disaster of a date where neither girl was interested in Cay or me. Tai had been devastated that his matchmaking skills had been an epic failure, but he should’ve seen from a mile away that Maisie and Alex were more into each other than anyone else.
What was more troubling was that ever since that date, I couldn’t get Cay out of my mind. I’d slept on the sofa, since he seemed to be in bad shape after hurling his guts out, and the memory of him in my bed had been slipping into my mind every time I got ready to masturbate. It hadn’t helped that he’d stripped down to his boxers,all that golden skin and lean muscle on display. The guy clearly worked out, and he was in great shape.
I should be envious, but instead, the thought just made my cock hard.
Super straight thoughts.
And true to form, Cay had texted me for lunch a few days later, and like a dickbag, I hadn’t responded.
The sign for Windy City Comics stood out at the end of the block, and I quickened my pace slightly. There was a specific issue I wanted, and since it was Saturday morning and I was an introvert who hated socializing, nothing was stopping me from going out and grabbing it. I slipped my hand into my pocket to snag my phone and looked at Cay’s text for the millionth time.
Hey, thanks for dealing with my drunk ass last week. Want to cash in on that lunch I owe you?
Totally innocent, and yet every time I’d tried to type a response, my answer sounded lame or needy or horny. All of which just came off weird. The idea of not seeing him again made my chest tighten, but I’d already passed the point where answering got awkward.
Not like I could message back, “Hey, I wanted to respond, but I’m too busy freaking the fuck out because the sight of you in your boxer briefs has me wondering what you’d look like without them. In a totally straight way.”
Ugh. This was hopeless. I jammed my phone back into my pocket as I stopped in front of Windy City Comics. I’dbeen coming here for years, ever since I moved to the city. I grew up in the suburbs, but my dad and I used to do day trips to this one. We’d get our comics and then go out for pizza afterward. The sight of the blue-and-white sign out front made my chest twist a little tighter, but it was always that way with memories of my old man.
He’d passed away fifteen years ago, but I tried to keep our traditions alive, even if only one of us was left to carry them on.
I stepped inside, the little bell tinkling, as I was greeted by the crisp scent of print and slightly aged papers that seemed to be a prereq for comic book stores. To me, it smelled a little like home. The owner of Windy City, Ethan, was around my age, lanky, tattooed, pierced. And we always spent way too long talking comics. He stood behind the counter today, in deep conversation with someone who’d brought up a stack of D&D manuals.
