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I’m so antsy I want to crawl out of my own skin. The stress of being on lockdown for the duration of the tour is going to kill me. If it doesn’t, then being close to Mitch on a daily basis—touching and kissing for the cameras and, pretty much living together—most certainly will.
We just arrived at the hotel in Miami and have a few hours to kill before tonight’s scheduled appearance at a local radio station. Then there are two concerts in the city starting tomorrow. That means a whole lot of downtime until then with Mitch. I check the time on my phone, three hours to kill.
Wound up and agitated, I leave my bedroom and head into the common area of the suite, hoping to find some sports on T.V. Mitch is already sitting on one of the sofas, typing on his laptop with a pen in his mouth. My eyes zero in on that pen. Drawn by the way his lips move around it, alternately sucking then chewing on the end. I’m fully hard in less than two seconds.
He must feel my eyes on him, because Mitch stops typing and looks up.
It’s the third day of the tour and we’ve hardly said two words to each other outside of scheduled appearances. It’s awkward, and to be honest, lonely as fuck.
I may as well be the one to break the tension because the big, gun-toting, ex-FBI guy is too nervous to do it himself. “Hey.”
Way to make conversation, Gavin.
Mitch’s eyes widen. He pulls the pen out of his mouth and I mourn the loss of the erotic display.
“Hey.”
I guess neither one of us is good at breaking awkward silences.
I drop onto the
couch next to Mitch, desperate for some sort of truce or even friendship if that’s all we can have, though I wouldn’t say no to getting him naked again.
“What are you working on?”
Mitch shuts the laptop and places it on the side table. “Nothing. Just emails.”
“Oh.” Fuck it. I can’t stand it anymore. “Are you gay?” I blurt out before I can stop myself.
This time, those grey eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets. Under that sexy dark stubble, a deep crimson flush appears.
“Uh… I, well… I…”
He’s at a total loss for words, stammering and turning red.
Without thinking, I reach out and pat his knee, feeling guilty for causing him embarrassment. His gaze drops to my hand before returning to my face. Raw lust has replaced humiliation by the time those eyes finish their scan up my torso and land on my mouth.
“Sorry.” I snatch my hand back. “I shouldn’t have asked.”
“No,” he murmurs. “It’s okay. If anyone deserves to know, it would be you.” Mitch laughs sarcastically and drags a hand through his sexy, tousled hair. “The truth is, I don’t know.” He shrugs. “Maybe I’m bi, but I don’t think so. I’ve always noticed men. I mean, I’ve had sex with women, but it didn’t…”
He ducks his head and the blush returns. I find it utterly adorable.
“It never felt right?” I finish his sentence.
Mitch takes so long to speak I begin to think he’s not going to answer. “No. It didn’t.”
“It’s okay, you know, to be gay. Trust me. It’s taken me years to realize that what everyone else thinks just doesn’t fucking matter.”
He grunts in agreement.
“Would your parents disapprove?”
Mitch finally looks at me again, those steel-colored eyes locking on mine. “No. That’s not it. Well, I don’t know, maybe. I’m pretty sure they’d be okay with it. Shit, I really should call them,” he mutters.
That doesn’t sound as if they’ll be completely supportive. “If it’s not necessarily your family, then why hide? What’s holding you back?”
