AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“I was talking about you,” Evan said and sent Colin’s pulse scrambling. “You and me.”
Colin bobbled the stack of plates, wincing when they went clattering to the countertop. His head felt light, like there wasn’t enough air in the room. “You and me?” he croaked out, and unable to help himself, turned to face his best friend and secret love.
“You and me,” Evan repeated, his eyes on Colin’s. They were oddly intense, the blue somehow darker and deeper than usual. There was no impish gleam, the usual laughter replaced with something else, something fierce and bright and strange, and before Colin could put a name to it, Evan reached out a hand, wrapped it around the back of Colin’s neck, and kissed him.
Sheer shock kept him immobile for a heartbeat, his brain frantically trying to take in and make sense of this new information. Evan’s mouth was soft, the stubble of his beard rough. The subtle spice of soap or aftershave tickled Colin’s nose, mingled with the natural scent of Evan. Slightly sweaty, faintly metallic, achingly familiar. It made him yearn, that scent, and now he was surrounded by it.
Then Evan shifted, his mouth moving coaxingly against Colin’s, and suddenly all he could think wasI want.
And he devoured.
He buried his hands in Evan’s tangled hair, angling his head and diving into the kiss with the fervor of a starving man at a buffet. Evan grunted, either in approval or surprise, his lips parting, and Colin swept his tongue inside. He tasted the mint of toothpaste, the bitter bite of coffee, and Evan—finally Evan—and all the years of longing seemed to roll over him like a wave.
Moving on instinct and euphoria, he tightened his grip on Evan’s hair and stepped closer. Colin was shorter by half a head, but Evan’s extra inches came from his torso, so their hips aligned almost perfectly. The unmistakable press of an erection through dual layers of denim wrenched a moan from deep in Colin’s chest, and for a moment the possibilities lay bright and bold in front of him.
Then the heavy stomp of approaching feet jolted him out of the fog of lust, and he jerked back, severing the connection just as the kitchen door banged open and Spence growled, “You fuckers were supposed to wake me up.”
Colin’s gaze darted to the doorway, where Spence stood scrubbing his hands over his face, his hair sticking up in spikes from a night on the couch. Off balance, still reeling with lust and overwhelmed by a sudden flood of panic, Colin abruptly spun around to stare at the coffee pot.
There was a moment of thrumming silence, then Evan said, “Since when am I your fucking alarm clock?” and even through the roaring in his ears Colin could hear the hoarseness in his voice.
“Since I fucking asked you last night to wake me up,” Spence countered, his morning voice even growlier than usual. “I told you I gotta be on the road by nine.”
“Keep your pants on, breakfast isn’t even ready yet.”
“What’s the fuckin’ hold up? I thought Tuck was making waffles.”
Colin wiped his sweaty hands on his thighs and gathered the scattered plates from the counter. “Esme went to wake him up,” he said, and with his heart in his throat, turned back around.
Spence stood in the middle of the room, tall and dark and grumpy as a grizzly bear. A day’s worth of scruff covered his jaw, nearly thick enough to blend in with the mustache he’d recently begun sporting, and a pillow crease bisected one pale cheek. Evan was back at the stove, laying out the last of the bacon, his expression inscrutable.
“Why are you putting bacon on a baking sheet?” Spence wanted to know, shouldering past Colin to get to the coffee pot.
“Faster than doing it in a skillet,” Evan said. “At least according to Colin.”
Colin swallowed hard. Evan’s expression might be inscrutable, but his eyes weren’t. There was lust and confusion and hurt all swirling together, and a question Colin didn’t know how to answer.
Then he blinked, and it was gone, leaving nothing but mild curiosity in their sky-blue depths. “What temperature does this need to be at, anyway?”
“Put it at four-twenty-five,” Colin answered and cleared his throat. God, he sounded like he’d swallowed glass, and his gut was in knots again. “We’ll have to watch it, though.”
“Where’s the sugar?” Spence asked, and Colin tore his gaze away from Evan’s.
“On the table,” he told Spence and followed him to the breakfast nook.
Spence dumped a spoonful of sugar in his coffee and took a gulp. “I’m going to take a shower. Don’t eat all the bacon.”
Evan opened the oven door and shoved the first baking sheet in. “Shave that hamster off your lip while you’re at it.”
Spence’s response was an extended middle finger over his shoulder as he walked out the door, and Colin smiled despite the sick feeling in his gut.
Evan slid the second sheet into the oven and shut the door. “How long does this need to cook?”
“Set the timer for nine minutes, then we’ll flip it.” Colin bit his lip. He could see the tension in the line of Evan’s back, in the uncharacteristically jerky, uncoordinated way he reached for the oven timer. Evan was almost effortlessly athletic, his movements smooth and easy, and Colin could only recall a handful of times when he’d seen him this agitated.
“Listen, Evan,” he began, and Evan turned to look at him. Colin nearly faltered under the weight of that steady blue gaze, but he shoved the bright, sharp fear aside and opened his mouth.
And shut it again when Tuck and Esme came through the kitchen door.
