He'd looked toward Chris for agreement. "Agreed," Chris said at last. Then Chris went to the door and put his shirt on her, since he'd seen her shiver and knew she was cold. When she dashed off to the bathroom for her shower, the hem of Chris's T-shirt rippled off her bare ass in a delightful tease.
Chris hadn't left the room right away. Instead, he'd pivoted to square off with Geoff. Now Geoff slowed the memory to frame by frame. He needed to pick up every detail, understand the slightest nuances of what had happened next.
*
As Chris studied him, Geoff crossed his arms and leaned against Sam's dresser. Neither broke the silence right away. When Chris turned his head toward the sound of the shower starting, Geoff's gaze was drawn to the corded line of his throat, the bare upper body. Chris had a fine, gleaming pelt of chest hair that dwindled into a line down his stomach, disappearing into his camo pants, which he'd left unhooked at the waist. The pants were even better than jeans at molding a guy's package, drawing the eye.
Geoff thought about closing the distance between them, shoving his hand down that loose waistband and curling his fingers around Chris. He'd grip the weight of his balls, work his cock back up to the same turgid state it had been in when it had plunged into Sam. Her release, the scent and residue of it, would be on him. That made Geoff want to do it all the more.
Chris looked back at him. Geoff didn't change his expression, curious to see how Chris would react to the unguarded desire in his face. Would he ignore it, duck for cover? Or would he give Geoff the green light to do exactly as he wanted? When Geoff detected desire in Chris's brown eyes, a tightening of his sensual mouth, he wanted to hit the accelerator, but he knew that wasn't enough. He held his ground and waited.
Chris's expression was suddenly hooded and harder. "Do you know what you're doing with her?" he said.
"Do you?" Geoff nodded toward the mussed bed. "Or do you want to claim I started this? If we're going to go that way, she's the one who started it all by dragging us into that store."
"Really? Going to lay that on her?"
"Yeah, but not in the way you think. I'm saying she's the bravest of the three of us. You wanted what she had to offer."
"Don't." Chris shook his head. "Don't make it like that."
While the ripple of muscle and the shift of hip in the formfitting camo was distracting, Chris's feelings kept Geoff's mind mostly out of his hormones. He straightened. "I'm not, Chris. Christ. You think I'd want to spoil anything about what you just shared with her? Look at me."
Chris turned confused and frustrated eyes to him. "We both want Sam," Geoff said quietly. "We always have, haven't we? We're all finding our way here. Not only with her, but with each other."
A muscle jumped in Chris's jaw, and he lifted a shoulder.
"C'mon, let's get dressed," Geoff said, though the last thing he wanted to do was get dressed. Chris's underwear was still on the floor, so there was nothing under those pants but Chris. But while Geoff wasn't the most patient of the three of them, he understood a house of cards required it, unless he wanted to see the whole thing collapse.
As Chris moved to the door, so did Geoff. Once they reached it, Geoff gestured with a flourish. "Brawn before brains."
"Assholes always bring up the rear," Chris retorted. Geoff left his hand out there, but adjusted it to the traditional handshake offering. Chris's lips twisted as he recalled the middle school memory, as Geoff had intended. He clasped Geoff's hand and spoke the Ashanti warrior quote they'd learned in history class.
"'In our land only the bravest of the brave shake hands with the left hand, because to do so we must drop our shields and our protection.'"
Chris deepened his voice as they'd done it as kids, to sound like superheroes. Only Chris actually did have a deep voice now. Geoff wondered if he realized that. Deepening his voice now only made Superman sound like he had a cold.
/> Geoff flipped the clasp up into the upright brotherhood move, then they automatically moved in and bumped shoulders in gangsta fashion, the version of the male hug that wasn't hugging. It made them both grin.
"Sam would say we're goofballs," Chris said, but his expression was easier.
"She'd be right. But she's a girl. She doesn't get the secret handshake thing."
Chris smelled faintly of sweat and sex, and that ever-present aroma of earth and green things. Geoff took a deep breath of it and stepped back, releasing Chris's callused hand. Was it because of all that had happened these past few days that his attraction to the man was sharper, more intense? If Chris didn't stop studying him like that, his eyes lingering on Geoff's mouth, dropping to follow the line of his body under his Nike T-shirt and jeans, for fuck's sake . . .
Geoff cleared his throat. "We better get dressed. After you."
Chris sent him an odd look but nodded. As he passed in front of Geoff, Geoff didn't deprive himself of a good, lingering look at the muscular ass shifting under the camo pants.
"There are benefits to bringing up the rear, Dr. Banner," he said.
During their sophomore year, some of the kids had started calling Chris "The Hulk." It was Geoff who called him Dr. Banner, seeing the mild manner, gentle nature and intelligence behind the intimidating appearance.
"Oh yeah? Like what?"
"Means I can always watch your back," Geoff said. "View doesn't suck."
Chris glanced back at him, visibly surprised. No matter what had simmered between them for God knew how long, Geoff had never overtly dropped that card. Well, he was dropping it now. It was about damn time he did.