Page 61 of Serving Bunt

Then again, the whole “protein in semen” thing was a myth.

Something no doubt contrived by a group of sad, undersexed frat boys in a desperate attempt to convince women that blow jobs were good for them. Swear to God, if I ever had a son, the first thing I was going to teach him was that most straight men had no clue what women actually wanted, and pretending they did was one of the dumbest, most common mistakes guys made. And this was coming from the dude who had never so much as kissed a woman.

Just ask, fellas. It’s not that hard.

“Peter?”

I blinked, suddenly aware that Leah had been waiting for an answer while I’d waxed poetic about freckles and blow jobs.

“Sorry.” I rubbed the back of my neck, buying myself another couple of seconds. “Would you mind repeating the question?”

“I was asking about your friendship outside of the show? There’s noticeable chemistry between you two on camera.”

Chemistry.

She didn’t know the half of it.

I shifted in my chair again, one ankle crossing over my knee. The overhead lights were hot as hell, but somehow not nearly as warm as the thought of my man.

My man? Fuck.

The thought hit me so hard, I nearly laughed out loud. When had Matty Miller gone from the teammate I was secretly lusting after to mine in my head?

“Matty and I go way back,” I settled on, letting myself relax into the answer. “We’ve been teammates for several years now, so there’s already a lot of trust there. Sometimes, we butt heads, but at the end of the day . . .”

Leah nodded enthusiastically for me to continue.

“It works for us.” My voice softened before I could stop it. “He keeps me grounded. I remind him not everything has to be perfect all the time. Together, we feel pretty unstoppable. There’s nothing we can’t conquer,” I added lightly, “except, maybe, another cookie box.”

Leah snorted. “Fair enough. Any final thoughts before we wrap?”

I leaned back, letting her question settle over me. My mind flashed through no less than a dozen different answers, some less appropriate for television than others.

Final thoughts?

That I was scared as hell of screwing things up (again) with Matty, but even more afraid of never trying.

That even though our team was falling apart and I had missed out on making another All-Star team, I was having the time of my life baking fucking cookies with him.

That I didn’t know what we were yet, but I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that I didn’t want it, whatever it was, to stop.

Instead, I smiled at Leah and gave her the safe, camera-friendly version.

“I think we’ve still got a lot left to prove,” I said easily. “But I’m proud of how far we’ve come. At the beginning of this competition, Matty and I were trying so hard not to screw up that we forgot to actually enjoy ourselves. And now? It feels like we’re finally having fun again.”

Leah’s expression warmed.

“Even if we don’t win,” I continued, “I got to spend time with one of my best friends, meet some incredible people, and help shine a light on a cause we care about. That matters more than any trophy.”

The camera light blinked off.

“That’s a wrap on you, Peter,” Leah said, unclipping the microphone clipped to my shirt. “We’ll see you tomorrow for the final bake.”

“Hell yeah, you will.” I stood up and stretched, already scanning the barn for Matty. “But for now, I gotta go cheer on my boys.”

I waved to her and the rest of the crew, already racing out of the barn. I didn’t miss the way a couple of the makeup team eyed my chest appreciatively. Looked like Comet was doing his job.

The All-Star game started in less than two hours, which meant I still had plenty of time to squeeze out a couple of more orgasms with Matty. Three, maybe, if we skipped the post-blowie cuddling.