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“Right, that’s me. Isaiah Nettles, international blackmail artist. You found me out.” He tossed over his unlocked phone. “Now, hand it over. Unlocked, so I can actually see the songs.”
Darren placed the phone in his hand. “Have fun.”
Isaiah side-eyed him. “I already am.”
Chapter Twelve
Isaiah
Bright lights assaulted Isaiah’s eyes.
Huh? Where . . .?
He blinked in his surroundings. He was on the floor of Darren’s room, listening to music. Harry Evans was killing it and—what the actual fuck?
Darren was asleep, wrapped around him.
Isaiah stilled as he took in the heat of Darren’s head against his shoulder and his arm slung over his waist. Deep, steady breaths drizzled warmly over his collar, and Isaiah felt the slight shift of Darren’s long, muscular legs against his.
Isaiah should . . . move. Should wake Darren.
Except. It had been forever since anyone had held him this way. The contact felt good. Better than good.
Hell, it was giving him a throbbing hard-on.
The clock on the TV said 11:43. When had they fallen asleep? He remembered comparing music and selecting a jazz playlist. Remembered how they’d settled on Alone in San Francisco. Remembered listening to the first two songs, the music washing over him, intensifying the pure and raw excitement skipping between them.
He’d shut his eyes, absorbing it all, and must have drifted off on the high of it.
He couldn’t see Darren’s face. Was he relaxed? Peaceful and content, like Isaiah felt? Or just exhausted? Maybe it was the latter, and yet . . .
Maybe not?
Maybe if he woke, Darren would like this, too.
He bowed his head, nose inches from Darren’s hair. He breathed deeply. Darren didn’t use overscented soap or product. He had a clean, natural smell that fit who he was. Not showy or loud. Just him.
Isaiah leaned closer, lips grazing the top of Darren’s hair.
Damn, this was nice. He liked that Darren felt comfortable enough with him to have fallen asleep so close. Liked simply being held.
Darren stirred.
Isaiah closed his eyes and pretended to be asleep. It would be totally awkward if they both woke at the same time. This way, Darren could realize his mistake and pretend it hadn’t happened.
The short breath against his neck told him Darren had woken with a start. He waited for the arm around him to recoil sharply. For Darren to pull back, roll away, pretend they’d never touched.
Nothing.
The warmth of Darren’s arm radiated through him.
It took effort not to give away he was awake. He focused on keeping his breathing even. If Darren didn’t do something soon, Isaiah might lose control, roll atop Darren and kiss him.
Darren slowly dragged his hand back and gently nudged him.
His voice was soft, gentle and anxious. “Isaiah?”
Their bodies still touched, but he’d lifted his head from Isaiah’s shoulder.
“Hmm?” If he pulled this fake wake-up off, he’d demand an Emmy.
“We fell asleep.”
Darren
How had he fallen asleep on Isaiah? With his arm around him, too?
“Did we?” Isaiah stretched and yawned. “Didn’t realize. I was so tired.”
Darren needed to move back, but he liked the closeness. Liked it too much, considering how hard he was. “Never thought the floor would be so comfortable we’d conk out.”
Isaiah laughed. “If I’m tired, I could sleep on a bed of nails. I hope it didn’t take too much to wake me. I’m a sound sleeper.”
Thank God. “Not too much.”
He rolled his neck. Sleeping with his head on Isaiah’s shoulder had left a crick in it.
“Stiff neck?”
“A bit. And my back.”
“I could show you a few stretches to help.”
No way he wanted to stretch with his cock trying to free itself from his shorts. He was so glad he’d worn trunks. They didn’t hide everything, but he didn’t flop around either. “It’s kind of late. Tomorrow?”
Isaiah looked at the TV. “Crap. It’s nearly midnight.”
“Do you turn into a mouse or something at twelve o’clock?”
Isaiah stretched again and smirked. “More like a bear in the morning, if I don’t get enough shut-eye.”
“My brother’s like that. I learned to stay away if he had a late night.”
“Don’t tell me you’re one of those chipper people first thing in the morning.”
Darren laughed, hiding his groin from Isaiah as he pulled himself up. “Definitely not chipper, especially before I’ve had coffee.”
“Good. Then I won’t have to kill you.”
“You’d better avoid my father in the morning.”
Isaiah groaned. “He a big morning person?”
“Used to drive me nuts when we’d run in the morning. Apart from wanting to get up at oh-dark-hundred, he’d want to talk while we stretched. Half asleep, I’d blurt out anything.”
Isaiah laughed and turned to the side to get up. Was he having the same problem? “I think your dad played you. What a way to pull information.”
Darren smirked. “I learned my lesson after a few slipups.”
“Are you going running with him tomorrow morning?”
“No.” Darren frowned before he could stop himself. He forced a smile, but it must have looked as fake as it felt. “I mean, we didn’t talk about it so I doubt it.”
