“I have not been—” Slade waved him off. “Shut up.”
Evan chuckled. He liked giving Slade shit, and he hadn’t given him enough the past few weeks. Mostly because he realized that something was up with Slade. At first, he hadn’t thought anything of it, but then he realized his moods fluctuated, sometimes rather drastically. Oddly enough, there was usually a common denominator: Atticus.
Of course, Evan hadn’t bothered to ask Slade if something was going on between them. He honestly didn’t want to know.
Okay, that wasn’t true. He wanted to know because he considered Slade a friend, and if the guy needed to get something off his chest, Evan was there for him. At the same time, he didn’t want to encourage Slade to pry, which he would’ve done, and his first question would’ve had to do with Becs. Since Evan didn’t want to talk about how he’d screwed things up royally with her, he figured it was best to mind his own damn business.
“Everything cool with you two?” Evan heard himself ask despite his better judgment.
“Just fuckin’ peachy,” Slade responded, keeping his eyes on the front of the room as another man—this one older than everyone else they’d met thus far—walked in.
Thankfully, Evan didn’t have to come up with something else because the instructor kicked off their classroom lesson.
***
Several hours later, as Brantley was gettingout of the car that he’d just taken around the track at top speed, he felt very similar to how he’d felt back in his SEAL days, back when most days were spent on the edge, life or death situations popping up around every corner. The adrenaline rush was incredible.
Honest to God, it was the first time he’d felt quite so alive since the last mission he’d been on. He would’ve been lying if he said he didn’t miss it. Some days were worse than others. There were times he swore he was going through withdrawals. And yeah, he understood the nostalgia was far better than what actually happened, but it still got to him occasionally.
“That was awesome,” Brantley told the instructor who’d been in the car with him. “Thanks, man.”
“You did great. A natural behind the wheel.”
Brantley grinned and nodded, taking that compliment with a grain of salt. After all, they wanted people like him to come back. Those willing to chase that rush were the ones willing to pay big bucks to spend the majority of the day doing nothing and still walk away thinking that those few precious minutes they’d been inside the car had made it all worth it.
He got out and removed the helmet, tucking it under his arm as he walked around, attempting to let the energy move through him as he waited for Reese to finish his last of three laps around the track. Brantley had been the first to go, so it would be a bit before everyone else took their turn. Because they’d been prepared for the group, they’d brought plenty of cars, so only a couple of people had to wait for someone else to be finished.
When he’d learned that JJ had paid for the entire group to drive, he’d thought she was out of her mind. Brantley didn’t know how much it cost but imagined it wasn’t cheap. He’d been right when he heard Z telling RT that it would’ve been upwards of ten grand for a group that size.
Unless the woman robbed a bank, he knew she didn’t have that kind of money. Nor did his parents or Reese’s. So, Brantley had cornered Baz. Yeah, it was likely bad decorum to confront the host of your bachelor party to ask about cost, but Brantley refused to let his best friend fork up that kind of money. Brantley had intended to tell him he would pay them back, but then Baz informed him it was a gift from Baz’s father. And that told him everything. The generous donation to their bachelor party weekend likely came from Wes Buchanan. And according to Baz, the man had more money than God, so confronting him about spending it would only hurt his feelings.
Brantley wasn’t sure that was true, but he understood what Baz told him. He wouldn’tconfrontWes, but he would damn sure thank the man.
Brantley grinned as Reese came to a stop just a few yards away. Damn, he looked good in that car. Then again, Reese looked good no matter what he did. Even with that stupid trucker cap with the veil, he looked good. Of course, they both had a reprieve from wearing it because they’d traded the hat for helmets.
“Where’s he goin’?” Brantley asked when the instructor left the car parked and hurried toward the line of cars waiting.
“He’s instructin’ someone else,” Reese said.
Brantley stared at the man he loved. “Are you breathin’ hard?”
Reese nodded. “That was a rush.”
It was. Brantley was still riding the high from the adrenaline. Which he figured was why he did what he did next.
Taking Reese’s hand, he headed for the building. It was telling that Reese didn’t put up a fight and didn’t ask questions.
He dragged him along as he headed toward the conference room they’d been in earlier. He saw a sign for restrooms. Yep. That would work just fine. They would certainly provide the privacy Brantley was seeking.
Brantley made a beeline for the family bathroom as soon as he saw it, figuring there would be a lock on the door. Sure enough, there was, so he pulled Reese inside and closed them in before pinning Reese against the door while he reached down and flipped the lock.
Reese hummed when Brantley sealed his mouth over his, thrusting his tongue past his lips. They both groped and fumbled, devouring one another in an effort to rid their system of the endorphins.
Brantley didn’t stop at the kiss, though. He couldn’t. He needed to unleash on this man. He was a little disappointed that he’d changed into jeans before they headed down to the track because his shorts would’ve made the task easier. But he was nothing if not determined, so he flipped the button free, tugged down the zipper, and shoved them down his hips. He grabbed Reese’s hand and placed it on his cock, urging him to stroke him. Brantley was hard as stone, and now it only had a little to do with the adrenaline rush and more to do with the man he loved.
Reese didn’t hesitate, his big, strong fingers circling Brantley’s shaft.
“Oh, fuck yes,” he hissed through gritted teeth, pulling back to watch as more heat flooded him. “Oh … fuck…”
