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Once our equipment was loaded, we piled into the van and got on the road. Anthony was sitting up front with Perry while Nolan and I were in the back seat, acting like our thighs touching was no big deal. Keeping our hookups from the band made the guilt burrow deeper in my gut, but it was for the best until we understood what the hell we were doing.
Since last week, when we’d opened up about our mutual attraction, Nolan and I had slept in each other’s beds a few times, kissing for what felt like hours. Normally, a make-out session would end with us losing our loads after we’d rubbed up against each other long enough, which honestly didn’t feel long at all. It was as if we couldn’t get enough, and even sitting beside him made it hard to keep my hands to myself. Being with him felt electric, and now that I could touch him freely, I couldn’t keep my hands off him. But I would have plenty of practice that weekend.
It might be just the thing we needed, not only to figure out what we were to each other but our sexuality too. From what I’d read online, it was important to take your time, and that made sense to me. These new feelings were nerve-racking and confusing, but at the same time, I felt compelled to keep kissing him and rubbing all over him like some horny teen.
As I watched the passing landscape outside my window, it also felt nice to have a weekend away—just one night, really, but still. It was too pricey to stay a whole weekend, and we normally cheaped out and drove home in the middle of the night. This time we’d decided to split a motel room with two queen beds. We’d play, crash for a few hours, then get back on the road to Ann Arbor.
The first hour into the drive, we caught up on our week. Anthony talked about his daughter’s soccer team and Perry about his work schedule. Then Perry glanced at me in the rearview mirror. “You never mentioned how your date went with Shana.”
Nolan cleared his throat and averted his eyes, shifting uneasily beside me.
“What? Did something happen?” Perry asked, noting my discomfort.
“No, nothing happened. It, uh…there wasn’t a connection that way.”
“Did you at least get an orgasm out of it?” he asked with a smirk.
“Bro, you know Ellis doesn’t do casual,” burst from Nolan’s mouth, and then he sucked in a sharp breath, his eyes wild, as my breath quickened. We hadn’t discussed what we wanted from each other.
Nolan was right though. I didn’t do casual, so what the hell was I doing with him? Groping, kissing, and trying to get my fill all week? It was like someone else had inhabited my body, or I’d let my impulses take control.
And I could see the worry in Nolan’s eyes. Did he think I was going to try and pin him down?
“That’s not exactly true,” I replied. “I can mess around, especially if I’m getting to know someone. Until I figure out if there’s anything deeper there.”
“That’s what I thought,” Perry said, then glanced at Nolan. “You’re the one who avoids attachments.”
“I never felt a need for them, not after…” Nolan trailed off.
“After witnessing your parents’ tumultuous divorce,” I filled in for him. “But that doesn’t mean your marriage would be the same.”
“I know,” Nolan muttered. “Maybe I just never felt really strongly about someone.”
I swallowed roughly. Fuck. Was this conversation really playing out in front of the guys? It certainly woke me up and made me consider some things. Maybe we needed to tread more carefully with each other. But hadn’t we done that already?
“Maybe a second date will do the trick,” Anthony said. “Or just get to know her better.”
“Yeah, maybe. Anyway, put on some good music,” I said, trying to change the subject.
Anthony fiddled with his phone and hit Play. Vintage rock we were all familiar with filled the small space. We were quiet in the back seat, but Nolan’s chest moved with the effort of his harsh breaths. Apparently, that conversation affected him as much as it did me, and I feared he was rethinking things between us.
But then I felt his hand shift on the seat so our pinkies were touching. Butterflies took flight in my stomach over a stupid, simple touch. What was wrong with me?
I lifted my gaze to search for Nolan’s. His eyes crinkled, making a smile tug at my lips, and I felt like a teenager all over again.
When we got to our motel on Cleveland’s East Side, we went to our room to deposit our bags. It was clean and small, the two beds feeling almost too close for comfort.
“So, how are we doing this?” Anthony asked, depositing his bag near the bed on the far side of the room.
