“He’s my roommate,” Troy says. “And he’s usually a lot cooler than this. What’s so important, Connor?”
I don’t answer. I just stare at him, showing him the desperation in my eyes, letting my gaze say everything my mouth can’t. He looks at me with a strange, confused expression. For a second, I think he’s going to tell me to fuck off. That he’s busy. That I should come back later.
Then he turns to Ashley. “Hey, you mind giving us a minute?”
Ashley lets out a theatrical sigh. She slides off the windowsill, grabbing her tiny purse off the bed. “Unbelievable,” she mutters, brushing past me without a second glance. She slams the door behind her, the sound echoing in the sudden quiet of the room.
I get it. I get her reaction. If I were on the verge of hooking up with Troy and some random guy barged in demanding his attention, I’d be pissed too. Hell, I’d be throwing punches. But I can’t bring myself to feel sorry for her. I’m too relieved to have Troy to myself.
“The fuck, Con?” Troy swings his legs off the bed, sitting up straight. “You’re aware you just cockblocked me, right?”
“Yeah.”
“And that she was hot as fuck?”
“Yeah.”
“Then what was so goddamn important that it couldn’t wait ten minutes?”
“Take me instead.”
Troy blinks. “Excuse me?”
“Take me,” I repeat, my voice trembling. “Take me instead of her.”
“Connor, what the fuck?—”
“I mean it.” I take a step closer. “Whatever you were going to do with Ashley, do it with me.”
Troy stares at me like I’ve lost my mind. Maybe I have. “You’re drunk. Or on something. Or both.” He gets up, putting a hand on my shoulder. “You’re not making any sense, man.”
“I’m not drunk. I’m sober as fuck. And I’ve been thinking about last Sunday all week. I can’t stop thinking about it. About you. About your… about that.” I gesture vaguely at the front of his jeans. “Watching you with her… I can’t do it, Troy. I can’t watch you be with someone else.”
Troy’s hand falls away from my shoulder. He takes a step back, his eyes wide with shock. He looks even more stunned than he was when I got on my knees for him in our living room. And I get it. This is a bigger bomb to drop. A blowjob is one thing. But this? This might ruin our friendship forever.
“You’re shitting me,” he says.
“I’m not.”
“You’re serious.”
“Dead serious.”
“This is because of me, isn’t it? I fucked you up. I told you about that bathroom, and now you’re all confused. I shouldn’t have said anything. It’s my fault.”
“It’s not your fault. You just opened my eyes to something I didn’t know about myself. It was already there, I just didn’t see it. And now I can’t unsee it.”
Troy runs a hand through his hair, messing up the styling. He paces the small space between the bed and the door like a cagedanimal. He’s agitated. Conflicted. And I don’t blame him. This is a lot to process.
“Jesus Christ, Connor,” he mutters, stopping in front of me. “I don’t know what to say. You’re my bud. We see each other every single day. We can’t… we can’t do this.”
I feel an opening. He’s not saying no. I press my advantage, stepping into his space again, close enough that I can feel the warmth radiating off him. There’s that woodsy cologne again, and I’m instantly hard. Like a goddamn Pavlovian dog.
“Why not?” My hands find his chest, my fingers curling into the fabric of that black V-neck. “Kiss me, Troy.”
“Con…”
“Just once. If you don’t feel it, I’ll walk out that door, and we never talk about this again.”
