“Thanks, babe.”
He kissed Joshua simply because he could, then headed toward the bathrooms. The narrow entryway and angle of the group hid him from sight once he reached the men’s room door, so he skipped past it and went outside.
Van’s sports car was easy to find in the lot. Benji climbed in the passenger side and barely had a moment to see Van in the driver’s seat before he was devoured. The intensity of the kiss surprised him into not kissing back at first. Van was usually much more gentle with him, but today he had weeks of pent-up kisses waiting to come out all at once.
Love and affection swirled in Benji’s chest. He wanted to swallow Van whole, to prove how real this thing was between them. To show Van how much he’d been missed. All he could really do in such a semi-public place was put it all into their clashing lips and tongues. To card his fingers through Van’s soft hair and inhale every sound and moan.
Benji finally broke them apart, but didn’t let go of Van’s shoulders. “Christ, I missed you.”
“Me too.” Van pressed their foreheads together, panting breaths mingling. “I’ve loved all of our face-to-face sessions, but in person is a billion times better.”
“You think?”
“I just needed to kiss you once. Standing inside there, unable to hold you the way I wanted, was agony.”
“You have excellent self-control.”
Van pulled back to look him in the eyes. “I also have a lot of thoughts about tonight. Being with both of you again. I can’t wait.”
Nerves squiggled down Benji’s spine. “Me too.” He stole another quick kiss. “We should go back inside before anyone gets suspicious.”
“What was your excuse?”
“Bathroom.”
“An oldie, but a goodie.” Van glanced out the windshield and froze, his expression blank.
Benji’s gut rolled. He forced his head to turn—and immediately wished he hadn’t.
Glaring at them both from the front of the car, Bobby stood with his arms crossed and his shoulders back.
“Shit,” Benji said.
Bobby’s lips pulled back in a silent sneer, and then he turned and stalked away.
So much for not making this party about us. Fuck.
“What do you think he’ll do?” Van asked.
“I don’t have a fucking clue.”
All Benji knew for certain, as he climbed back out of Van’s car, was that everything was about to change—for better or worse remained to be seen.
TWENTY-TWO
Joshua was toobusy listening to Dominic narrate one of his many tales of being on the road with Trey to pick up on the tension at first. Benji and Van had returned to the group at separate times, and he’d only paid them a passing glance—one look at Benji’s slightly puffy lips told him all he needed to know.
Bobby approached a few minutes later, and something about both Benji and Van changed. Stiffened. Their new body langue was enough to get Joshua’s attention. Bobby looked pissed. Van’s expression was mostly blank, but Benji looked . . . well, kind of terrified.
The pieces fell together quickly and painfully.
Bobby saw them together. Great.
He didn’t get a chance to address it, though.
“Attention!” Percell’s deep voice boomed over a microphone, shushing the chattering crowd of at least a hundred guests. “My parents have pulled into the parking lot. Everyone get ready to yell surprise.”
Joshua hung back with Benji, Van, and the rest of Fading Daze, while the others rushed closer to the entrance to wait. He slung an arm across Benji’s waist and held him, keenly aware of his taut muscles.
