Page 78 of Nothing Special X: The Last Stand

Not sleep breathing, it was a regulated cadence.

He tapped lightly on the door but got no answer.

He tapped a little harder. “Cassidy?”

Still nothing.

The breathing continued.

Xander pushed the door wider and peeked inside…and almost swallowed his tongue.

Cassidy was in the middle of the bedroom floor, shirtless, with earbuds in his ears, wearing knee-length black athletic shorts and high-top black Converse.

His palms were planted on the floor, body extended in a long, perfect line as he did push-ups with textbook form.

Cassidy lowered himself until his chest nearly touched the floor, then drove back up with smooth power, tattooed biceps flexing, back tightening, shoulders rolling beneath tanned skin slick with sweat.

He kept going as if the movement cost him little to no effort.

Xander stared.

He knew Cassidy was strong. But seeing him like this was different.

His back was broader than Xander had let himself imagine, covered in dark tribal ink spreading across his upper back and over both shoulders in bold, aggressive patterns. More ink wrapped around his thick biceps and down his forearms. The muscles there strained and veins protruded with every push.

Good Lord.

Xander’s mouth went dry. He was turned on by Cassidy already, but this was just unfair.

He jerked back before he got caught drooling and pressed his spine against the hallway wall.

His orange juice bottle was cold in his hand, but everywhere else was hot.

His breathing had changed, with horror he realized he was breathing just as hard as Cassidy.

Xander squeezed his eyes shut at the ache between his legs.

Cassidy Morrison was too much fucking man. Too self-controlled and mature in a way that made the overzealous men Xander had been avoiding for the last year feel even more incapable.

Cassidy’s age was a serious weapon. There was something about the lines in his face, the graying at his temple, his discipline, the authority that radiated from him. Then there was the fact he’d already lived through things most men wouldn’t’ve survived.

Since coming out a year ago, Xander hadn’t dated. But not from a lack of offers.

There’d been plenty of hot, eager, camera-ready men who slid into his messages or mailed him ab pics with suggestive proposals. But he couldn’t help but wonder whether they wanted him or to be associated with his name…and money.

He also hated the idea of meeting online, which he understood was the norm now. But, swiping through faces on dating sites felt less like looking for a connection and more like shopping from a catalog.

Before that, there’d been one man who had mattered.

His on-and-off secret boyfriend from his freshman year in college—if those hidden trysts could even be called a relationship. They’d been young, scared, and careful.

Cassidy was none of that.

After all these years, Cassidy was a hell of a man to be his first.

Xander pushed away from the wall and went back to the kitchen before he embarrassed himself further.

He added ice to his orange juice, even though it was already cold, but champagne would be a much better addition. Better yet, a Bloody Mary. Top-shelf vodka, spicy with a fresh stalk of celery stalk and a couple of slices of bacon. That would take the edge off his nerves and lust.