“Jealous?”
“You wish.”
“Don’t worry, there’s enough of me to go around.” I waggled my eyebrows, and he looked at me like he either wanted to punch my mouth or kiss it. I wasn’t sure he even knew which one. It totally got me hard.
Ridiculously, I was on pins and needles, waiting to see how he was going to respond, how he’d flip the script the way we seemed to do with each other, but just as he opened his mouth, hands slapped down on my shoulders.
“Langley!” Ford gave me whiplash, he shook me so hard.
“What the fuck, man?” I pushed him away.
“We need drinks. Excuse me, Mr. Bartender, can we have drinks, please?”
Brax scowled. “Will just anything do, or did you have something specific in mind?”
“Wow, you’re grumpy,” Ford replied.
“Cut him some slack,” I found myself saying, before turning to Brax and ordering a couple of pitchers of beer.
He filled them, Ford thankfully paid, and then I had to help him carry them back to the table. I tried not to show my frustration that I’d been pulled away from Brax before I found out what he was going to say.
Our group had grown since I’d made my escape. Everyone was drinking, joking, flirting, all the shit we did when we went out, but I was distracted. I nursed my cup, my attention continually drawn to the counter where Brax was working.
He was pretty busy for a good hour, and then there was a lull. I was about to head over when a guy standing by our table started rehashing the game, so I refocused on the conversation and said, “It was fucking badass, right?” And by it, I meant me.
The next time I glanced over, Braxton was talking to Felix, the flirty guy from Freidman House. Felix looked really hot with his reddish-blond curls and banging body that he definitely had on display tonight. He wore a T-shirt that was cut off to show most of his torso. If rumors were correct, Felix was a good time. Even though he hit on me and my lacrosse friends, like I said, I knew we weren’t his type, but tonight, he didn’t look all that picky.
Brax laughed at something he said, and…what the fuck? It was like pulling teeth to get him to laugh, and Felix did it in two point two seconds?
I watched like a stalker while Braxton made him a drink and handed it over. Felix leaned over the counter, his feet dangling above the ground, his ass out, and his mouth close to Braxton’s ear.
Nope. Hell no. All the nopes that had ever noped. I shoved to my feet and went over there. Braxton and I were hooking up this weekend. Felix could find his own man. Not that Brax was mine, and I totally didn’t want him to be, but still.
“Hi,” I said, standing next to the twink.
“Hi,” Felix replied.
Brax’s brows pulled together. “Ignore him. That’s what I do.”
“You like me too much to ignore me,” I countered.
Brax turned to Felix. “Anyway, you were saying?” He ignored me, just like he’d said, his voice more smoldering than usual, and holy fuck, he’d never used that voice on me. Did that mean he’d never flirted with me? That couldn’t be possible.
And who gave a shit what Felix was saying? Brax was supposed to pay attention to me.
“I’d like a drink,” I said, my gut uncomfortably tight.
“Ask Gwen, or Casey, or whoever’s available.” There were four bartenders there tonight, along with the waitstaff.
“I’m asking you.”
He groaned, and that sound I was familiar with, though I doubted he was really annoyed. Braxton enjoyed this game we played more than he would a night with the twink. “Why have you made it your mission in life to bother me?”
“Because I’m so good at it, and we both know you like it.”
“No, I don’t.” Braxton grabbed a glass and started making a rum and Coke, and fuck yeah, Felix, he knew my drink.
“Yes, you do.”
“No, I—I’m not doing this with you, Lacrosse. Go play with your friends.”
“Aw, but then you’ll miss me.”
“No, I won’t.”
“Yes, you will.”
“Are you two banging? Because if not, you really need to,” Felix said before sashaying away.
“Oh shit. Did I screw with your hookup?”
He growled.
My dick perked up.
It was way too hot.
“I’m taking my break,” Braxton told Gwen before turning his dark gaze on me. “Let’s go.”
Without another word, he walked away, and I followed. Braxton went through the swinging doors and into the kitchen.
“What’s up?” SpongeBob said, but neither of us replied as Brax went down the hallway, straight for the storage room. My dick was fully hard now because I was pretty sure I knew where this was headed.
Brax turned into the room, and the second I was inside, he closed the door and turned the lock. “Want—” His lips crushed mine before I could tease him about wanting me so much.