“Why are you scowling?”
“I’m reading the statement,” CJ replied without looking at Evan. “You sound all noble and shit, like you’re taking time off for the good of the team. I sound like I sneezed wrong.”
Evan chuckled, and CJ looked up at the sound. Whatever he was going to say died on his tongue at the sight before him. Evan stood at the stove in a pair of baby-blue boxer briefs, working a spatula through a frying pan full of scrambled eggs, and for a moment, CJ forgot how to speak. Morning light poured through the window and spilled across Evan’s back, over the broad line of his shoulders, down to where his waist tapered slightly, before cutting off at the top of his thick thighs. Those legs had spent a lifetime squatting behind home plate, and CJ swallowed hard as he remembered how they had felt wrapped around him the night before.
If someone had asked him what was happening in the room, he wouldn’t have been able to tell them. His attention had narrowed entirely to the view in front of him and his gazefollowed helplessly as Evan shifted his weight to reach for the pepper grinder.
Good Lord.
He was a full-grown adult. A professional athlete who had been surviving independently since he was nineteen. He’d played in sold-out stadiums and survived postseason pressure. And here he was, leaning against the island in his kitchen, completely undone by a pair of boxer briefs and the shape of Evan Delgado’s ass.
“You’re burning the toast.”
CJ blinked. “What?”
“The toast,” Evan said without turning around. “It’s burning.”
CJ twisted toward the toaster and cursed before manually making it pop. Two slices had already passed golden brown and were well on their way to charred, and he huffed as he grabbed them and threw them in the trash. He’d just started two new slices when Evan finally glanced over his shoulder.
“They wouldn’t have burned if you’d been paying attention to the toaster instead of staring at my ass.” Evan smirked and turned his attention back to the eggs.
“They wouldn’t have burned if I’d just gotten a new toaster like I’ve been meaning to do.” CJ narrowed his eyes. “And I wasn’t staring at your ass.”
“What were you doing then?”
CJ slid onto one of the stools at the island. “I was appreciating the view.”
“That’s what I thought.”
CJ eyed the toaster. “In my defense, you decided to cook breakfast wearing almost nothing. I don’t know what you thought I would do.”
He popped the toast and added it to the plates Evan placed in front of him. He lingered for half a second, until CJ looked up at him.
“If you keep staring,” Evan said quietly. “You’re cleaning the kitchen.”
CJ smiled. “Worth it.”
Evan shook his head and slid onto the stool next to him. CJ waited until Evan picked up his fork, then he leaned over and kissed his bare shoulder. Evan didn’t look at him, but one corner of his mouth curved.
“Eat,” he said.
CJ did, but he spent the first few bites distracted by the press of Evan’s thigh against his under the island. He bumped his knee gently against Evan’s and didn’t bother hiding his smile when Evan bumped him back.
“You know what I like best about this trip?” He set his fork down and turned halfway toward Evan.
“The trip we haven’t left on yet?”
“Details.” CJ rolled his eyes. “You’re so literal.”
Evan reached for his coffee mug and smiled. “What do you like most?”
“This.” CJ gestured between them. “The before part. Talking about what we’re going to do and whether or not you’re going to hike with me.”
“I’m not,” Evan said automatically.
CJ continued as if Evan hadn’t spoken, “I like knowing we’re going somewhere together.”
Evan stayed quiet, and CJ immediately wondered if he’d said too much. Then Evan set his mug down and used his knee until the stool turned and they were facing each other fully.
