“Be right back,” I say against his lips before releasing him.
In the bathroom, I catch sight of myself in the mirror and pause.The man staring back looks… different.Less hard around the edges.There is something in my eyes I haven’t seen in years, a lightness, a spark that had been missing for too long.
I shake my head, turning away from my reflection.Better not to examine it too closely.Better not to name the feeling expanding in my chest, making it hard to breathe whenever Xavier smiles at me.
* * *
Xavier
As Zach disappears into the bathroom, my eyes linger on the closing door.The soft click of the latch feels like a personal challenge.I take a half step forward, then stop myself, heat rising to my cheeks at my own thoughts.
What am I thinking?Trying to peek at Zach in the bathroom?I’m not some horny teenager.I am a grown man.A doctor, for Christ’s sake.
But the image of Zach—all that tattooed skin and lean muscle fully revealed—makes my mouth go dry.The sound of running water from behind the door only intensifies the mental picture forming in my mind.
“Get a grip,” I mutter to myself, forcing my feet to move away from the bathroom door.I busy myself, straightening the rumpled bedsheets, trying to focus on anything except what is happening on the other side of that thin door.
My phone buzzes on the nightstand, a welcome distraction.I grab it, glancing at the screen to see a text from my dad.
Morning, son.Free for lunch today?Haven’t seen you in weeks.Your old man misses your face.
I have amazing parents.My mother is so kind and gentle, and my father is soft toward us but an asshole to the rest of the world, but he has to be since he is a cop.
I was scared to tell my parents that I think I was gay.My dad was immediately worried; not because I liked men, but because people are assholes in this world and it’s not easy being gay.
I didn’t understand what he meant by that until I graduated high school and someone on the police force that worked under my dad made a comment about him raising a fag.
I never saw my dad so pissed in my life.He almost killed the guy right in front of the whole police force, and no one else uttered a word since.
My mom, who is against all violence, encouraged my dad.She is tiny and fierce just like my sister Samantha.
I type a quick response to my dad, smiling to myself.
Sorry, Dad.Have plans.Dinner tonight?
The reply comes almost instantly.
Dinner works.Mom’s making her lasagna.Bring an appetite.And maybe that guy you’ve been seeing?
The bathroom door swings open and my train of thought crashes to pieces.Zach stands there, hair loose around his shoulders and wearing nothing but boxers.Morning light catches the tattoos inked across his arms and chest, highlighting every defined muscle.A jagged scar along his left side, the same one I’d traced with my fingers last night, makes my pulse stutter.
“See something you like, Doc?”he asks, that half smile playing at his lips, doing dangerous things to my heart.
“Maybe,” I manage, voice embarrassingly rough.I clear my throat.“Coffee?I think I have some somewhere.”
Zach closes the gap in three easy strides.He cups my face, thumb brushing my jawline.“Coffee can wait.”
My heart thunders against my ribs as he leans in, claiming my mouth in a kiss that starts gentle and quickly deepens.He tastes of mint toothpaste and something darker, something entirely him, and my head spins.My hands find his waist, fingers digging into warm skin as he backs me toward the bed.
My knees hit the mattress and I sit abruptly, breaking the kiss.Zach hovers between my legs, his gaze intense.Heat pools in my stomach.
“You have no idea how many times I’ve thought about this.”His voice is low and husky.“You, in your bed, looking up at me like that.”
I swallow hard.“Like what?”
“Like you want to devour me.”His fingers trace the collar of my t-shirt.“Like you’re thinking about all the things you want to do to me.”His hand slides lower, palm flat against my chest.“Are you, X?Thinking about it?”
I exhale, almost in a whisper, “Yes.”
