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I shake my head. “I don’t want to drink beer.”
His eyes drop to mine. “I like the taste of it on your lips.”
My cock jerks in my shorts at the reminder of last night.
“One beer,” I concede. “Then back to the dorm room.”
He presses his lips to mine, an agreement to the plans before walking out of the alley.
One beer leads to two on my part because I just can’t manage to slip away. Once I get back to the dorm, Rick leaving twenty minutes before me, we once again end up in my bed, legs as tangled as our tongues, making out like teens who don’t have a clue that there’s more to it than just kissing.
Neither of us make a move to take things farther despite being so close to me getting on my knees for him before Silas showed up, and somehow, it easily soars to the top of my list of best nights ever.
Chapter 22
Rick
I’ve had wild dreams less fantastical than the life I’m living right now.
Landon and I are living separate lives much like we were before this semester, although the hatred we show others is gone. We don’t go out of our way to hang close to each other during practice. We don’t even leave the room for class at the same time.
But at night.
I nearly trip over an imaginary line on the sidewalk when I think about the nights we spend together. I’ve never enjoyed kissing so much before.
Somehow, the first night we started this journey back to each other included him giving me a hand job and me sucking him off, but we haven’t revisited that yet. He talked a big game on Welcome Night, before we were interrupted but he hasn’t made a single overture since.
We make out, bodies tangled, hands willing to roam backs and chest, but then they stop before roaming anything south of the navel.
We’re not saints by any means, and I’m well versed in knowing just how long I have to roll my hips against him, scraping our cocks together, to get us both off.
But maybe that’s the rub for him. So long as he doesn’t touch me there with his hands, and I don’t touch him, then the status quo remains, leaving him as straight as he always claimed to be.
“Are you bipolar?”
“Joking about mental health isn’t funny, and who walks up to someone and just spits a question out like that?” I glare at Rex, deep down a little grateful that he’s here. At least I have someone to direct my irritation at instead of letting it fester inside of me like I normally do.
“You were walking along, a huge, if not secret smile on your face, and then you’re frowning as if someone crop-dusted you.”
“Classy,” I mutter. “I’m fine.”
“Fine,” he repeats as if he has to turn the word over on his tongue to understand it.
“I just forgot about a paper I have to write.”
Rex grabs my arm. “Stop lying. It’s the first week of school. You don’t have a paper. Are you going to tell me what’s really going on?”
I shake my head, making him smile.
“Will I have to tickle it out of you?”
I smack his hand away when he reaches for my side. “I told you that in confidence.” I chuckle, my stomach tightening with the mere threat of being tickled.
He laughs too, and like the closest friend I have, he quickly makes my sour mood shift into something more manageable.
“Jesus take the wheel,” he mutters, his eyes locked behind me.
Like I’m sure he expected, I turn in the direction of his gaze, swallowing thickly when I see Landon sitting on the low wall outside of the sciences building.
My mood grows better even more because I know for a fact, he doesn’t have a class in this building. He knocked out his simple science credits freshman and sophomore year. He’s never been quiet about his plans to take all the harder classes first so he could have a lax senior year. Anyone within hearing distance in the locker room knows it.
He’s here for me.
Despite my mental warning not to read anything into this moment, my heart soars at the effort he’s putting in.
“You want me to kick his ass?” Rex asks as Landon stands from the wall.
“No.”
I fight the urge to pull away when Rex slides his arm through mine. He’s done it a million times before, but the sight of Landon’s eyes narrowing on the contact as he approaches makes me feel like I’m doing something wrong.
Rex, thinking he’s being helpful because I haven’t told him what Landon and I have been up to at night in our room, laughs like I’ve told a joke before pressing his hand to my chest in a flirty manner.
“Would you stop?” I grind out.
“To make the homophobe feel better?” He scoffs like it’s the most ridiculous idea he’s ever had.
