Rudy’s already snoring up a storm in the washing he’s kicked up into a royal mess.
I rise, stretching, my head a little lighter than when I arrived and it’s not all rum.
Bhodi stands too and for a protracted moment we stare before he goes for the hug—a real hug, all warm arms and affection we haven’t earned, and yet somehow feels so fucking right it’s all I can do not to melt against him.
He smells so good. I take a deep inhale and hold him tighter, soaking up how his hard body feels against mine. How his slightly brawnier bulk fits the leanness that’s stayed with me over the past six years. If I let my mind wander, I’ll find myself picturing us pressed together in different ways. If I don’t let go soon, I’ll act on it. But beyond the blaze his embrace stokes in me, there’s peace too, as if Bhodi’s good heart can heal mine, and I don’t let go.
I don’t want to.
So I hold on until Bhodi leans back.
And that’s when I realise my mistake.
We’re wrapped up in each other, our faces inches apart. His hair tickles my cheek and I scent the rum on his lips.
This is bad.
So very bad.
But the trouble with bad things that aren’t really bad at all, is that walking away from them takes superhuman strength. Strength I’ve never had. And in this moment, I don’t want strength. I want Bhodi. A taste. A kiss. A soft brush of lips that’s rum and mischief, and his quiet laugh as he realises what we’re doing, and he doesn’t stop.
I don’t stop either. I sink into a kiss so fucking sweet I might die from the gentle force of it. And the irony. Because if I’ve learned anything tonight it’s that behind Bhodi’s bright eyes and smiley smile, he’s probably a filthy bastard.
A filthylay.
Fuck. My hand slides over his hip, hooking him closer in the same moment his warm palm skims up my spine, finding the nape of my neck. The kiss deepens, stealing my breath and what’s left of my non-existent willpower. I feel him harden against me and that thrill, that rush of attraction, is so potent it dizzies me.
I want him?—
“Damn.” Bhodi pulls back. “So this friends thing is going well.”
I’m so dazed, I have nothing but a startled laugh.
He laughs too and smooths my rumpled shirt. “Sorry about that.”
“Don’t be sorry.”
“I’m not.”
“You lied?”
Bhodi grins. “Yeah.”
Man, he’s so fucking beautiful that I’m back to staring, transfixed by his wicked gaze and reddened lips. And I need togo. Before I forget everything he’s said tonight about needing more than whatever hot mess I’m about to lead him into. How I need more than that too.
Rudy.
Like he knows, and maybe he does, my little bastard dog chooses this moment to notice something ridiculous outside. He barks, shrill andloud, and it breaks the hot tension stringing me and Bhodi together.
I find my boots and stamp into them while Bhodi watches from a safe distance. He’s still smiling, which is good. Me? I’m a mess, but I’ve spent years pretending I’m not, so I’ve got this. I muster a grin and plaster it on, and somehow I find the will to leave him and walk out the door.
Eight
BHODI
I kissed my landlord.
Six seconds after we pledged to be friends.
