He let go of the bar and swiped some sweat out of his eyes with a forearm, weaving through the equipment so he could shower off in the locker room. He took some extra time with the soap between his legs, because miracle of miracles, he was regularly getting his dick sucked by the smartest, sexiest, secretly kindest man on the planet now. And Marcus couldn’t get enough of returning the favor. There was just something about the way Jamie seemed incapable of holding back when Marcus gave him head, riding his face like he couldn’t get deep enough down his throat—
Marcus looked down at his inflating erection and cursed.
Honestly, he needed a cage for this monster. Were dick cages a thing?
He’d Google it later.
He flew through his shower and toweled off in record time, only stopping once to flex in front of the mirror. When he pulled the T-shirt that had spent the night on Jamie’s bedroom floor over his head, he caught a whiff of Jamie and took a moment to bury his face in the soft cotton material. Christ, he loved Jamie. He could barely keep his feet on the ground, the love was such a buoyancy, carrying him from place to place.
And like every other time this week, when Marcus stopped to acknowledge how happy he was—how fucking in love he was—he was reminded that he was almost certainly going to blow this perfect shot with Jamie. So many times this week, he’d looked across the pillow and wanted to say, “I’m ready. I want to tell my family. I want to tell everyone.”
But insecurity and fear of the unknown would creep in, sinking their teeth in and he’d find himself swallowing the words on his heart. Trading them for maybe tomorrows and one more day. I just need one more day.
Jamie seemed just as happy as Marcus. Most of the time. When they met in his bedroom at the end of the night and there was nothing but their heartbeats in the silence, Jamie would smile. And the strain Marcus noticed around his eyes and mouth while in the Hut or behind the bar…it would cease to exist. Marcus would kiss him and lick the remaining tension out of Jamie’s body until his boyfriend got that blissed out expression. The daytime hours only carried a feather’s weight compared the two starved bodies rocking in the twisted sheets.
When Jamie offered to be his boyfriend in secret, Marcus had believed nothing could be better. And he couldn’t deny this had been the best fucking week of his life. But holding himself back from kissing Jamie goodbye on the beach was getting harder. Almost unbearably hard. Another guy had been in the bar this week checking out Marcus’s man and he’d almost ripped his skin off watching the guy ask for Jamie’s number. Jamie had said no, but still. What Marcus wouldn’t have given for the freedom to simply walk behind the bar and frame Jamie’s face in his hands. Just press their foreheads together in front of everyone and breathe, the way they did in the mornings before Marcus got dressed and left.
What would it be like to take Jamie on a date? To hold his hand and not care who was watching? To have Jamie smile all the time and not just when they were alone? With every passing day, having that reality became more and more…necessary. Maybe even attainable. Being around Jamie made Marcus feel invincible. Confident in the man he was learning to accept—and really kind of like. Himself.
Soon, he promised Jamie in his head. Soon.
Marcus blew out a breath and left the gym, his heart roaring when he saw Jamie across the street waiting for him, posted up beside the door to the Main Squeeze. This week, most of their time together had been spent with their clothes off, but when Marcus managed to climb off Jamie for a few minutes, they worked on plans for the juice shop.
Jamie had called some of the food distributors for the Castle Gate and arranged daily fruit deliveries. The power had been turned on, air conditioners repaired and tested. Furniture had been delivered yesterday. They’d spent two nights painting the walls a bright yellow and setting up the juicers and other equipment Marcus had ordered online for a steal. Jamie had created inventory sheets and programmed the registers with prices. They’d commissioned a piece of repurposed wood for the sign and painted The Main Squeeze in bright, yellow lettering. One week to go until opening day and they still had some work to do, mainly perfecting Marcus’s recipes, but it was really happening.
His throat hurt with emotion when he crossed the street and saw the weariness in Jamie’s eyes before he saw Marcus and hid it. A group of young people were walking past on the sidewalk, leaving Jamie and Marcus hovering a few feet apart, when all Marcus really wanted was to throw Jamie down and devour him.