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“What? No.” He took off his cap and raked a hand through his hair.

“Or maybe you just need one more time with a guy before the big day to make sure any of those rogue gay urges are fully out of your system.”

He stiffened at the stinging tone and suggestion. “No, I—fuck, never mind.” He slouched in the too-small seat, pulling his hat low over his eyes, and glared out the window. “Just get me to the resort. I shouldn’t have shown up tonight. This was a mistake.”

“Heh.” Devon sniffed. “You seem to make those a lot around me. Guess some things haven’t changed.”

Hunter leaned his head back against the seat and closed his eyes, remembering the last time he’d uttered that same phrase. No, some things hadn’t changed.

Everything had. All in one spring.

And nothing had been the same since.

Chapter 4

College—4 Years Earlier

Color was high on Hunter’s cheeks as he ran full tilt next to Devon. “Come on, dude. We’ve gotta move. If we get caught, it’ll ruin the whole thing.”

“I’m trying. I don’t run sprints for a goddamned living like you do.” Devon pumped his legs, trying to keep up with Hunter’s practiced strides, and peered over his shoulder to make sure no one was behind them. Two other guys from their frat were a few steps ahead, so he didn’t want to be the jerk who got them caught, especially not when the mission had been a success.

The four of them had managed to sneak inside a rival frat’s house and had buttered the common room floor while all the guys were sleeping upstairs. Then they’d set off the fire alarm. They hadn’t been able to stay to watch the chaos, but the sound of asses hitting the floor as the guys rushed downstairs and slipped on the butter had Devon huffing laughs as he and Hunter booked it back to their house. Hopefully they’d be able to send another guy in sometime tomorrow to retrieve the webcam they’d hidden to catch the fallout. But the pictures in his mind were already worth the effort.

As was having his best friend running next to him with that big-ass grin on his face. Devon had worried that his idea to join a frat last year had been one of his most idiotic moves ever. It’d been a whim when he was feeling particularly crusader-like after a hate crime on campus last year. Some guys from another fraternity had terrorized a gay freshman after a football game, and Devon had wanted to make a statement. Sigma Alpha Xi hadn’t been able to turn Devon down because of all the bad press the frats were getting, but he’d sensed their complete discomfort with the idea of having him live in the house. It’d taken everything he had not to bail, but then Hunter Riley had walked in and changed everything.

When the college baseball star, the best-liked guy of the group, had offered to room with Devon and had accepted who he was without a hint of discomfort, everything had changed. Devon had become one of them. Never before had he felt so a part of something with other guys. There was this camaraderie he’d never known he was missing before then. Straight guys had always kept him at arm’s length—like he was some bomb that might detonate and get gayness on them or something. So ridiculous. But here, Hunter had ushered him in as a brother and somehow had created a safe zone where all that mattered was if you were a good dude or not. Who you slept with was your own business.

Too bad Devon had to fight daily to see Hunter as just a brother.

“Shit.” Hunter grabbed Devon’s arm and yanked him off the path into the nearby trees. “This way.”

“Fuck.” Devon almost lost his footing at the sudden change in direction and crashed into Hunter as the trees closed around them, branches slapping at them as they went. “A little warning, man.”

Hunter got an arm around Devon before he could fall on his ass and then dragged both of them down to the ground and onto their bellies. “Shut up, I heard Kappas.”

Devon’s body hit the ground, dry leaves crunching beneath his elbows, and his side pressed against Hunter. His labored breaths sent steam curling in front of him in the frigid air.

“Stop breathing so hard.” Hunter nudged him with his shoulder. “They’ll see us.”

“How the hell am I supposed to stop breathing?” Devon worked to slow his heavy breaths, annoyed that Hunter didn’t seem exerted at all from the run. “Freaking jocks.”

“Shh.”

Devon peered out between the trees, the darkness almost absolute with the moonless night, but his breaths continued to send out telltale clouds. He scooted over and pressed his mouth to the back of Hunter’s shoulder to block some of the air. Hunter didn’t flinch. Instead he lay stock-still like he was a sniper ready to take out a target. But no one appeared in their view and after a few seconds, Hunter’s shoulders relaxed.

Devon’s nose was buried in Hunter’s sweatshirt, and he took a deep inhale. “Damn, you smell like really good bread.”

He snorted. “It’s the butter. It’s all over me. I bet I’d taste pretty good right now, too.”

Taste. There was a vision Devon didn’t need. Licking butter off Hunter’s body. “Stop flirting, big man.”

Hunter chuckled.

It was an old exchange. Part of their friendship was this ease with harmless teasing. Most of the guys in the frat had gotten into a similar habit with Devon around. Silly teasing disarmed the perceived threat. Look, I can smack this guy on the ass or let him tell me how hot I look, and I’m totally cool with it. I’m not gay. He’s not really into me. We’re all just one big, secure brotherhood. And with the other guys, it was all in fun for Devon. It was nice to be that open and comfortable somewhere. But lately when it came to Hunter, it was getting harder and harder for Devon to not let his mind really go there. Sometimes Hunter said something or looked at him a certain way that sent all these switches flipping inside him.

And though Hunter was straight, they’d crossed lines over the past year that Devon knew weren’t typical. They discussed their sex lives openly—something he was damn sure none of the other guys in the house wanted to hear about. Hunter asked a lot of questions, and though he looked surprised or apprehensive sometimes over the things Devon described, he never looked disgusted. Part of it was Hunter’s curious mind. The guy liked knowing how things worked. He was the one who took apart things and fixed them in the house. And that seemed to apply to Devon’s orientation, too. Hunter had been told such bullshit growing up that he seemed to want to unpack this thing called sexuality and figure it out.

But he did the same thing with Ahmed, another frat brother, when it came to religion. The guy was just hungry for a bigger perspective than the one he got growing up. That’s why Devon tried not to read too much into it. The last thing he wanted to do was fuck up the best friendship he’d ever had with something as stupid as lust.


Tags: Roni Loren Loving on the Edge Erotic