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“Woah.” I grab the man’s shoulders and try to steady him, but he’s immediately whipped away from me and slammed against the hallway wall by another man. Their lips are locked with an intensity that tells me they probably don’t even realize I’m here, and that chill comes back, along with a nagging feeling in the pit of my stomach.

I try to maneuver around them and give them their privacy, but I catch a glimpse—the slightest flash—of something shiny glinting with the light in the hallway. Trying not to stare, I stand there like an idiot as things start to fall into place. The instigator pulls away from the other man and glares at me.

“Can I help you?” he says, still holding onto the other man’s black-leather-clad biceps as he presses their hips together.

I barely hear him, though, because I’m frozen, staring at the other man—the man who’d slammed into me a moment ago. All near six feet of him, with his jet-black hair and emerald-green eyes, the few piercings in his ear, and—damn—a fucking lip ring. My heart skips a beat as our eyes meet.

“I said, can I help you?” the instigator growls, snapping me out of whatever daze I’m in.

My shoulders tighten again, and I don’t move, unsure what to do. Darian Archer is being held by this man against the wall, and they were in a major lip-lock just thirty seconds ago. Right now, looking at him, I can only think one thing: He’s gorgeous. Absolutely, fuckingly, stunningly gorgeous. I can’t speak. I can’t swallow. I can’t really do anything. My eyes are locked on Darian’s. He’s clearly fucked up, his eyes red and glassy, and he’s giving me a look—one that can only be described as taunting. His beautiful, full, pink, pierced lip turns upward into a sly smile, and my mouth suddenly goes dry. He leans forward and kisses the dude he’s with on the cheek, throwing his arms up over the man’s shoulders.

“It’s okay, Lance,” Darian says. “I know him. We just haven’t seen each other for a while.” He tilts his head toward me and winks. Fucking winks. “Hi, Levon.” My name rolls over his lips, and something happens to my gut.

Holy shit.

Chapter 6

Darian

“It’s okay Lance,” I tell him. “I know him. We just haven’t seen each other for a while.” I tilt my head toward him and wink. “Hi, Levon.”

Lev swallows hard. “H-hey, Darian.” That’s all he gets out before Lance looks at him, clearly agitated.

“Sorry, man, but we’re busy.” Lance moves his hand between the two of us, signaling that something was going on and that he’d like to continue. Then he presses his lips against me again. My eyes remain trained on Lev as he shifts to his other foot.

“Oh, yeah, right. Right. Sorry.” He swallows again, shoving his hands into his jeans pockets. “I’m sorry. It’s good to see you, Darian,” he says, turning his hat around so the brim covers his forehead and casts a shadow over his bright-blue eyes.

The lighting is not great back here, but I can see that his eyes are the same as they used to be—a deep blue, intelligent, kind. And maybe they’re even more blue than I remember. My cock gets even harder at the thought, which I honestly didn’t think was possible. Lev’s smile tightens, and he turns around and walks back toward the bar as Lance attacks my lips again.

I let him, leaning into his touch and trying to get lost in the familiar.

It’s like that with Lance—he’s a sure thing. I think Lance and I use each other to meet our needs, if I’m being honest. One of us gives the signal, and it’s on, and neither of us seem to feel badly about that. When he pressed his lips to my ear just a few minutes ago and whispered “bathrooms,” I wasn’t going to say no.

I had no fucking idea we’d run into Lev.

Still lip-locked with Lance, I glance toward the bar. Garrett’s there, deep in conversation with a few people sitting in the row of stools. My stomach churns as I picture him scowling at me. He’d be relieved to see me leave, I’m sure. In the few short months since I turned twenty-one and started coming here regularly, I’ve caused trouble more than a few times—getting in fights or passing out on the couches. Garrett doesn’t really like that, especially when he’s had to get me a ride home or kick me out after closing. If I were anyone else, I’m sure I wouldn’t be allowed back in here to drink.

Lance’s hand rubs suggestively down to my ass, pulling me back to the present.

“Did you drive?” I ask him, suddenly needing to get out of here.

“Mm-hmm,” he murmurs against me.

“Good. Let’s go.” I take Lance’s hand, and without another glance toward Lev or Garrett or the bar, we head out the back door and to his car.

Lance takes me to his place, and we fuck. Usually having sex with Lance is enjoyable. He can at least make me feel good for the time that we’re doing what we do, and he does cuddle for a few minutes after we finish. That’s the real reason I like it. He’s a cuddler. Normally, it’s great.

So why is it that the whole time we’re together tonight, all I see is a black baseball hat and eyes the color of the bluest sky?

Chapter 7

Levon

Even as Monday morning rolls around and my alarm clock goes off, I can’t get that face with those emerald-green eyes, gorgeous lips, and taunting smile out of my head. Dare is beautiful. His features are perfect, the contrast of his pale skin with his dark hair and plush pink lips. There’s something about him that’s alluring. I think that’s the word that best describes him. Alluring.

And he knows it too. He showed me that when he gave that little smirk and said my name.

My cock stirs as I think about how my name sounded coming from his lips.