“Good point.” He leaned in close to Reese’s ear, lowered his voice. “Just fair warnin’. You bowl seven in a row, I’m gonna blow you in the parkin’ lot.”
Reese’s surprised swallow was loud in his ear.
Brantley pulled back, met that whiskey-brown gaze, speaking just loud enough for only Reese to hear. “Your cock in my mouth with you pinned against the truck.”
He loved that Reese’s cheeks turned crimson. The man blushed more than a virgin schoolgirl, and Brantley happened to find that trait highly appealing. More so now that Reese would happily oblige him whenever he made an offer like that. In the beginning, Reese would’ve turned beet red and then found a way to hide out until the night was over. They’d come a long way since then.
“For fudge sakes,” Sawyer exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air as the ball bounced down the lane.
“Did you just say fudge?” Brantley asked, laughing when the ball managed to topple two pins and made a third one wobble.
His cousin spun around. “Hey, some of us have kids. My wife’d kick my ass if I came home usin’ the f-bomb again. The last time I did, Matthew used it to refer to his little brother.”
Brantley smiled, waiting for Sawyer to elaborate.
Sawyer sighed. “He called him a fuckapotomous for a week.”
“Oh, shit,” Reese said with a huff of amusement.
Brantley couldn’t help it, he nearly fell over with laughter. He could only imagine five-year-old Matthew singing the word as he shouted at his three-year-old brother.
Sawyer pointed at Brantley. “Your turn.”
Brantley passed his beer to Reese so he could take his turn. He didn’t put too much effort into it, which he figured was the reason he split the pins.
“That all you got?” Griffin called out from behind him. “What kinda shit-roll is that?”
He ignored his brother and waited patiently until the ball returned, smiling to himself. He knew without a doubt Reese was going to roll another strike. The man was on fire tonight, and Brantley was seeing a whole new side to him he hadn’t realized existed. Then again, Reese had been different since his return from Dallas a month and a half ago. Ever since they patched things up between them, overcoming some of the obstacles they’d put in their own way, things had been good. Really good, in fact.
Brantley put some extra spin on the ball and took down one of the two pins left standing. When he turned, he found Reese smiling back at him. That grin made him feel like he’d just knocked down every pin in every lane in one fell swoop.
“Good thing you’ve got the pro on your team,” Sawyer said.
Yeah, damn good thing.
“All right, bro,” Sawyer said to Kaleb. “Knock ’em all down, or next time I’m invitin’ Braydon and leavin’ your ass at home.”
“I’m pretty sureIinvitedyou.”
“Don’t matter,” Sawyer countered. “Roll a strike or you’re out, Braydon’s in.”
Brantley chuckled, as did the others.
For the next ten minutes, the others took their turns. A few spares were added to the scorecard, but no more strikes.
Not until Reese took his next turn, anyway. No sooner did every pin fall than Reese pivoted on his heel and met Brantley’s gaze. There was a mischievous gleam in the man’s eyes, one that told Brantley he was looking forward to that promise.
Brantley glanced at his watch, his grin widening. Yeah, win or lose at bowling, he was still a winner overall.
After all, he was going to blow Reese’s mind, as well as other parts of his body, and he wouldn’t have to wait too much longer to do it.
***
A couple of hours later, after they’dfinished their games and given each other shit for their lack of bowling skills, Reese pushed open the door to lead the way into the muggy April night. The parking lot had thinned as the hours passed until only a handful of vehicles were left in the main lot. With Brantley at his side, they ventured around to the side of the building where they’d managed to snag one of the last remaining spots.
Reese was riding an adrenaline high, having been deemed the game winner, although technically, he’d been teamed up with Brantley, so they had both earned the title. He wouldn’t lie; it felt good to be a winner. More so to have spent a night out with friends, enjoying the company of others.
“Any reason you stopped at seven?” Brantley prompted as they moved along the sidewalk leading to Brantley’s truck.
