Not that he wanted Nick to touch him. He was just, like, conditioned to it at this point. His body must have become used to it. Like, having his best mate back was great—Tyler fucking missed him—but at the same time he felt weird being in the same room as Nick and not having Nick all over his personal space, forcing kisses and other gay things on him. That was the only reason Tyler felt so aware of the distance between them right now. It was just weird. That was all.
“Hey, is Nick single?” someone asked him suddenly, touching his elbow.
Tyler tore his gaze away from Nick and looked at the woman addressing him. “He’s gay.”
Daphne rolled her eyes. “I know. I’m asking for my brother. He’s single and Nick is just his type.”
“Nick’s taken,” Tyler said curtly before frowning. He wasn’t even sure he’d told her the truth. He hadn’t heard of Brad at all in the past month. For all he knew, they might have broken up—if they’d ever been together at all. It wasn’t as though he’d seen that Brad guy. Tyler was starting to think Nick had made him up. When would Nick have time for that guy if he literally fucked Tyler every day?
“Ah,” Daphne said, sounding a little disappointed. “Why hasn’t he brought his boyfriend with him, then?”`
Tyler shrugged, but then he realized it was a good excuse—ahem, reason—to go back to Nick’s side. He should definitely ask Nick about his boyfriend, right? Right.
“I’ll ask him,” Tyler said and walked back toward Nick, who was still listening to Alex’s long-winded story about his holiday in Spain.
“Where have you been off to?” Nick murmured absentmindedly, putting a hand on Tyler’s lower back.
Tyler went still, his eyes widening. Nick’s hand felt heavy and large and... It probably looked a little weird. Bros didn’t put their hand on their bro’s lower back like that. It was definitely a little weird.
But Tyler didn’t shake the hand off. He stood there, contributing absolutely nothing to the conversation, a little dazed and confused and overwhelmed just because of Nick’s fucking hand resting on the small of his back.
It was just a hand. A hand.
But Tyler couldn’t breathe. Did no one notice that Nick had a hand on his lower back? Did no one think it was strange? Did it look friendly? It certainly didn’t feel friendly. He should move away. He should—he should…
Tyler fucking couldn’t. All of his senses seemed to be heightened, and the world around him slowed. All he could think about was that hand, the weight of it. He imagined it slipping lower, just a bit, until Nick’s fingers grazed the skin between Tyler’s t-shirt and the waistband of his jeans. Then maybe Nick’s fingers would slip under his jeans and stroke his crack, rub his hole until his pussy was wet and aching—
Tyler felt like slapping himself. What the hell? His body might be stupidly into that kinky shit, but, unlike the other times Tyler had found himself ridiculously turned on when Nick treated him like a girl, they weren’t in bed. This kinky, freaky shit had no place in the middle of Andy’s living room while they were surrounded by their old classmates and Nick was acting like a strictly platonic mate. Tyler didn’t understand why he was fantasizing about that freaky stuff now—why he was fantasizing about it at all. It wasn’t as though he thought of himself as a woman. He was a dude, and he was happy to be a dude, thank you very much. It was all Nick’s fault, of course, for putting those freaky ideas into his head.
“You okay?” Nick said quietly, leaning to Tyler’s ear.
Tyler breathed shallowly, trying not to breathe in the familiar scent of Nick’s aftershave. He wasn’t okay. This wasn’t okay. “Yeah. Why?”
“You’re being awfully quiet.”
Tyler almost laughed. He could hardly say that he was too busy freaking out about the fact that apparently he was into having his non-existent pussy publicly groped by a guy who wasn’t even his boyfriend—a guy who probably had a boyfriend.
“Where’s Brad?” Tyler said.
“Brad?” Nick repeated.
Tyler glared at him. “The guy you were dating, you know?”
Something shifted in Nick’s eyes. “What about him?”
“Why isn’t he here?” Tyler said.
Nick shrugged, his face closing off and his eyes hardening. Tyler was no longer looking at his best mate. This was the man Tyler had become intimately familiar with in the past month. Seriously, did Nick have a dissociative personality disorder?
Tyler frowned, utterly confused by Nick’s behavior. It was such a mystery. Was Nick feeling guilty for cheating on his boyfriend? Nick was loyal to a fault—at least the Nick Tyler had known all his life. He wasn’t sure about this Nick, the man who looked at him with dark, unkind eyes and whose thoughts were impossible to read.