When I’m safely locked away in my room, I crawl under my covers in hopes of sleeping the rest of the day away.
Unfortunately, the jiggling of my door handle is immediately followed by a concerned Bryce—still half-naked.
“Why was your door locked? Your door is never locked unless she’s here, and she’s clearly not.”
“How did you get in if it was locked?”
“Bode, these are privacy door handles,” he says, pointing at the lever. “You can use a knife or even your fingernail to turn this. Did you not know that?”
“No.” I sound like a pouting child, but I don’t care. I nestle deeper under the covers. “Doesn’t matter, I just wanted to be alone.”
His bare footsteps on the wood floors get closer to the bed, and I know he’s not going to let this go.
“Bodie, is this about you and Amber breaking up, or about what she said?” he says as he lifts the blanket enough for him to see me.
“No. I’m just tired.”
“You’re pouting, Bode.” The chill in the air when the covers disappear annoys me at first, so I fight to stay in control, attempting to cover myself back up.
“Leave me alone. I want to sleep.”
“Nope. Out of bed.” Bryce throws the covers across the room. “Now. I’m not letting you stew about this on your own.”
“What is there to talk about?” I sit up enough for him to take me seriously. “She broke up with me. I’m supposedly head over heels in love with you. And you won’t let me sleep. There. Those are the facts. You happy? Are we done now?” The wide eyes and slack jaw on Bryce make me feel guilty for raising my voice—it’s not something I do often—and it doesn’t help he’s still without a shirt. We’re locked in a stare-down, only because I’m terrified of what might happen if I look right at his abs or thighs again. Fuck, they’re boxer briefs—the outline of his dick would be staring me right in the face.
Except, I just did. Straight guys shouldn’t get hard-ons from staring at their best friend’s dickprint, should they?
Cheese and rice, what the fuck did I just do?
Chapter Three
Bryce
He’s been in the bathroom for ten minutes now. I don’t want to freak him out even more, but damn , Amber fucked with his head. I put some clothes on and wait for him in the kitchen, hoping he’ll come out here instead of going straight to his room. When I finally hear the door open, my eyes find his as he comes down the hallway.
“I’m sorry.”
“I’m sorry, Bode.”
We both speak over each other and laugh.
“You don’t owe me an apology. I shouldn’t have pushed you if you weren’t ready to talk about what’s bothering you.”
“I know, but I shouldn’t have snapped at you either. You were only looking out for me—like always,” he says as he sits next to me at the kitchen island.
There’s an awkward silence that’s never been between us before, and I hate it, but I won’t push him again.
“I’m sorry I stared at your dick,” he says as I’m taking a sip of my water—and then it’s everywhere in a fit of laughter. “What the fuck, man?” Bodie gets up and starts wiping the water off his arm and the counter, while I’m busy hiding my laughter behind a hand.
“It’s not funny, Bryce. I was fucking gawking at you like a teenage boy and their first naked girl experience.”
“Or naked boy,” I add with a smirk, and wind up getting the hand towel thrown at my face. “Sorry, you set yourself up for that one.”
“Can you please stop making a joke out of this? It’s not helping.”
“Okay, I’m sorry. But you know this is just Amber fucking with your head. It’s not what you’re really feeling.” I pause when I see his brows furrow. “Is it?”
His gaze meets mine and then darts away again. “I don’t know. There are a lot of things going through my head, and—”
