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“Oh shit.” Everything snapped back in Hunter’s brain like a rubber band, sending each part of him in motion all at once. He fumbled to tug up his pants, but his limbs were like wet spaghetti and everything took twice as long.
Devon climbed back onto the seat and adjusted the front of his pants where the outline of his erection was impossible to miss. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
“What are you doing?” Hunter asked as he finally got his button fastened.
“Thinking of that time I got kicked in the nuts in gym class. Kills a hard-on without fail.”
There was a tap on the window, like the limo driver knew they needed a warning shot. Great. God only knew what the guy had heard.
Devon took one more breath and then leaned over to open the door.
“We’re here, sir,” the driver said, taking the handle and opening the door the rest of the way.
“Thank you.” Devon was the picture of calmness.
They both climbed out while the driver grabbed their overnight bags. The driver handed them their luggage, accepted his tip, and then left them on the curb in front of the posh Carmichael Hotel. Hunter hooked his backpack over his shoulder with a shaking hand and tried to regain some shred of his composure as he took in the front of the hotel. “Damn, looks like your sister set you up good.”
“No kidding. I bet a night here costs as much as a month’s housing at school. Oakley said she’d told them to get me a nice place. I thought she meant the Holiday Inn.”
A doorman was heading their way, asking if they needed help, but Hunter waved him off. He wanted to get to the room as quickly as possible. Even though he had his clothes back in order, he felt like he was wearing a billboard that announced what had happened in the limo. His face was hot, his legs were wobbly, and his thoughts jumbled.
He followed Devon into the lobby, his shoes squeaking on the gleaming white marble floor as they made their way past brightly colored modern furniture and metal sculptures. High-tempo wordless music played low in the background. This definitely wasn’t the Holiday Inn. Not that he’d ever actually stayed in one of those. Hunter had grown up staying in swanky hotels, but his parents usually preferred the ornate historic ones. This place was all sharp angles and pulsing energy, matching how Hunter was f
eeling inside at the moment.
Devon made his way to the front desk and gave the attendant his name. She typed in a few things on her computer and then gave them each a friendly smile. “Would you prefer two queens or a king, Mr. Crowe?”
“Two—”
“A king is fine,” Hunter interrupted.
Devon glanced his way, brow lifted.
Hunter shrugged, unsure where the flash of bravery had come from but standing by it nonetheless.
“Okay, then, a king,” Devon said, turning back to the woman.
“Absolutely,” she said brightly. “We’ve got a junior suite with a great view and a Jacuzzi tub on the sixteenth floor. Is there anything we can send up for you? Fruit platter or maybe some wine?”
“No, I think we’ve had enough to drink,” Devon said, returning her smile and bumping his shoulder against Hunter’s.
It was something Devon would’ve done playfully before tonight. But right then it felt so much more intimate, real, like he was announcing to the girl that they were together. The publicness of it made knots gather in Hunter’s neck. Since Devon had come into his life, he’d never cared what people thought. More than one person had joked that he and Devon were secretly dating. But because it hadn’t been real, it had been easy to brush off. Now he felt exposed.
This was happening. He was spending the night in a hotel room with one bed with Devon. They’d fooled around in the car, and Hunter had just made some kind of promise for more when he’d asked for a king. Pterodactyl-sized butterflies crashed around his stomach. What the fuck had he gotten himself into? His body was warring with his good sense.
The clerk got them set up with their keycards and gave them directions to their room. As they headed toward the bank of elevators, Devon glanced over at him.
Hunter could feel the gaze burning into him, making his skin itch. “What?”
“Nothing. You just look like dead man walking. You haven’t signed a contract, you know? Just because we messed around doesn’t mean you’re obligated to anything. Seriously.”
Hunter punched the button for the elevator and one instantly dinged open. “That’d be pretty shitty of me—to take and not to give back.”
They stepped inside and thankfully no one else followed them in. Devon pressed the number for their floor and then turned to Hunter, his gaze shrewd. “This isn’t a flea market, Hunt. We’re not exchanging goods and services. I gave you head. We both enjoyed it. We can leave it at that. I’m not going to hold it against you if you call this experiment done.”
The elevator dinged before getting to their destination, and a big group of women and men in business attire streamed in, chattering loudly. Their lanyards announced they were there for some tech convention. Hunter shifted closer to Devon until they were crowded into the corner—shoulders pressed awkwardly together.
“Can you fit one more, Jim?” a lady asked, hurrying for the door.
