Normally, shower conversations weren’t part of my normal gym protocol, but Rory seemed to break the rules wherever he went. I reached down and began to soap up my cock, careful around the piercing. It had already plumped from the visual of the guy in the stall next to me, which seemed to be imprinted on my brain.
“I’m available,” I blurted out before the words caught up with my brain.
A laugh echoed off the tiles. “Straight is unavailable in my book too.”
Right. Straight. That thing I was. Apparently.
“Ever feel out of sync with everyone?” I asked as I scrubbed the suds out of my hair.
“Well, yeah,” Rory responded. “My whole damn life.”
My heart thudded a bit harder. Maybe that was why he was so easy to connect to. Up until we’d had Harper, I’d floated through life. My brothers had never known what to do with me, but at least in school I’d fit in, no problem. And my hobbies were pretty normal, but once I’d had Harper…shit, everything had changed. My friends were heading off to college, not interested in kids. And then as she got older, Harper’s friends all had parents a good decade old than me, and most weren’t interested in friendship.
I craved companionship more than my next breath. The other dream, the secret one of finding love…well, I’d long since buried it.
“Sorry, perennial mood killer here,” Rory said, and the hiss of the shower shut off.
“Nah, not in the slightest,” I said, washing the rest of the suds off me. “It gave me food for thought is all.” I turned the handle, shuttingoff the spray, and stepped out of the shower. “Though shower talks are definitely new territory.”
“Look, if the girlies get to have bathroom chats, then we deserve shower talks,” Rory said, drawing my attention his way.
Fuck.
He was completely naked, and he toweled himself off by the bench. His dark hair plastered to his forehead in that sexy, wet way, and when he glanced in my direction, his gaze heated. The droplets of water on his smooth skin looked utterly lickable, which was a problem.
I snagged a towel from the rack by the showers and scrubbed my hair with it, trying to ignore the way blood flowed south just from a glimpse of him. Occupying myself with patting down my body didn’t help, not when I could feel his gaze on me. And hell, I liked it a little too much.
“All right, let’s see how the piercing is healing up.” Rory’s voice sounded far too close.
I looked up. He stood in front of me, his hair dripping, but he’d popped his jock and pants back on. Disappointment thudded through me, which was insane.
“You can either hold it up for me to see or give me permission to check,” he said, his hand on his hip and a mischievous gleam in his eyes. I was fast becoming addicted to that look, as it got my pulse racing on sight alone.
Permission to check, meaning…
My throat dried, and I tried to swallow. No one was in the locker room with us, and he was offering.
“You can check,” I said, squeezing my nape tight. My cock was so hard it could punch through tile, and the headiness swirled through my veins at the idea of more contact from him.
Rory’s lips curved up in a grin, and he didn’t hesitate in circling the base of my cock to stabilize it. I bit back a gasp from the shock of sensation that his fingers there caused. I apparently needed to do a hell of a lot of self-reflection, because I didn’t think I could keep deluding myself that this was anything but attraction. His brows drew together, and he tilted my cock upward to examine the piercing. His movements weren’t sexual in any way, purely clinical as he examined, but my gaze zeroed in on his long fingers around my length, and the clean scent of him, like crisp bodywash.
His skin was so lickable, his body tight and sexy as fuck. And damn, I hadn’t realized quite how lonely I’d become until I met him.
I needed to get on an app, go on some dates, something—because indulging in him wouldn’t be a good move.
“It’s healing up well,” he said. “You’ll be DTF in no time.”
“DTF?” I asked.
“Down to fuck,” he said, waggling his brows. His hand was still wrapped around my base, and I became far too aware of how close we were. That we stood in the middle of a locker room with his hand on my cock. Heat rushed through me in a fierce torrent, and a little bead of pre-cum welled at my tip. Rory’s nostrils flared, and his tongue peeked out as he licked his lower lip.
I should move away. This was going beyond a quick check of my piercing. Except I couldn’t bring myself to pull back. Instead, the impulse to lean in rose in a fierce way. Rory’s tongue traced his lips, highlighting how plush they were, and his hot breath puffed against my chest.
The door creaked.
Oh, fuck. I stepped back right as he let go, the moment shattering.
Right, we stood in a public place. I snagged my gym bag, making quick work of tossing on another pair of briefs and sweats, and thentugging on an Anderson Carpentry shirt. Didn’t need a hoodie with the way my blood ran hot right now.
