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What else could I do? I’d gone to the bathroom, I’d showered, I’d brushed my teeth, I’d trimmed my fucking nails, and I’d used every hygiene product the hotel offered except for the shower cap. I’d even put lotion on, and I had to admit, I wasn’t a fan of getting that shit in my chest hair.
“Roe?” I called. “Can I come out now?”
No reply. Wonderful.
I picked up my watch and estimated I’d been in here about twenty minutes.
Seven minutes to go.
Usually the time it took me to rub one out, ironically. Would’ve been great to be able to do that. Alas, I was imagining Roe’s ass instead of female asses.
I scratched my eyebrow and sighed.
Maybe I could get laid tonight. If I knew Roe, he’d invited a merry band of coworkers we now called friends. My contact list in my phone had never been longer. And there were some pretty faces in that crowd, definitely.
On the other hand, it was never a good idea to shit where you ate, and I would only be interested in a quick release. Dating held zero appeal for me. Quick release, quick release. I cursed and gripped the edge of the counter, and I screwed my eyes shut and went to my regular fantasy. A rough hold on a pair of hips, my cock pounding in and out of a tight—
“Jake!”
Ass.
I snapped a glare at the door, hearing Roe on the other side. I’d heard a clicking sound too; he’d just been out, hadn’t he?
“Are you still in the bathroom?”
I clenched my jaw, beyond sexually frustrated, and straightened up. “Yeah. Spending the last day of my twenties counting the mosaics in the shower.”
He laughed. “Sorry. Two more minutes. I’ll make it worth it!”
I was sure he would, but I was in a mood now. I couldn’t help it. I wasn’t a man difficult to please, goddammit. It shouldn’t be so damn hard to find a fantasy that stuck. My go-to search words for porn weren’t out of the ordinary. I loved a good blow job scene, anal, some bukkake, and the occasional gang bang. Plenty of fodder, and still, my fucked-up issues shoved unwelcome thoughts to the forefront of my brain the second my cock got hard.
I had problems.
Perhaps it was a good thing Roe was flying to Seattle after the weekend. A week apart might do us good. He and Ortiz were gonna sit down with one of the companies we were teaming up with for Travel Back, while I stayed here and worked with the animators. There we go. Thinking about work never failed. By next weekend, when Roe was back in town, we’d celebrate his birthday, and my head would be screwed on right again. I just needed a break. That was all. We lived together, worked together, spent most of our spare time together, worked out together. It was a lot.
“Okay, you can come out! Wait—yeah, you can come out.”
Finally. I took a deep breath and rolled my shoulders, shaking off all the negativity. Roe had gone through all this trouble to give me a birthday party for the ages; I didn’t fucking deserve him.
I tightened my towel again, then walked out of the bathroom, and I came to a halt at the sight of the place. How the fuck did this happen? I hadn’t heard anything! Other than the front door clicking shut a couple times. Jesus, that sweet guy. I mustered a grin and shook my head. A cluster of black and silver helium-filled balloons swayed next to a table absolutely packed with food.
“Happy 30th, Jake” was printed on the balloons, as well as the napkins and… I chuckled. A stack of party hats. Pizza, a bottle of champagne, sliders, chips and salsa, buffalo wings, cake…
“Am I the best fucker you ever knew or what?”
I glanced at him, only to do a quick double take. “Did you shower?” His hair was damp, and he’d changed into sweatpants.
“I ran down and jumped into the Bellagio fountain,” he bullshitted smoothly. “No more questions. Let’s get some food.”
I was in a fucking daze. But clearly, he had access to another room if he’d showered. I’d file that away for later. I was too hungry and too much in awe to push for answers that didn’t really matter.
I joined him closer to the table and draped an arm around his shoulders, and I just stared at the spread in front of us. “Yeah. You’re the best fucker I’ve ever known.”
Hands down.
“It gets better. Here.” He grabbed a gift box next to the cake, a box I hadn’t even noticed. “Happy birthday, old-timer.”
I smiled and accepted the little box.
Fuck me, it was a watch. One I’d found too expensive to buy. Roe liked to poke fun at how I could drop unspeakable amounts on cameras and equipment but got hesitant if a pair of jeans cost more than a hundred bucks. I was still getting used to being fairly well-off, and buying a watch for three grand just wasn’t on my radar.
