“Did you want to come inside?” He gestures with his head to the house behind him. “I’m about to make something to eat.” I’ve been inside a few times, and each moment in there, I’m assaulted by him. There are times I’ve needed to rush out just to stop the pain of unrequited need from breaking me completely.
As much as it hurts me to be so close to him and not being able to do anything about my feelings, I nod. “Sure.” I follow him into the house and I am immediately hit by the scent of his cologne. I don’t know where his parents are, but the house is quiet. They’re probably out. I didn’t see the car parked in the drive, so maybe we have time alone. Maybe I can tell him I want him. I want to kiss him, to touch him, to make every inch of his body spasm with pleasure.
In the kitchen, I settle in one of the chairs at the breakfast bar and watch Ez make sandwiches. He doesn’t speak for a long while, and I wonder if there’s something on his mind. I don’t bother asking because I’m not sure how to be normal around him. Usually, I’m confident, more of an asshole really, but right now, with him, I am a nervous teenager.
Once he’s finished making us each something to eat, he sits across from me, after setting down two Cokes and some chips. His cerulean gaze meets mine. “There’s something I wanted to talk to you about, and I don’t know how to do it.” Nervous energy makes his eyes flicker as he bites his lower lip.
“Well, as long as it’s not advice on life. I’m not winning in that department,” I throw back before chuckling. But he doesn’t laugh. He only offers a smile. His expression turns serious, and for a moment, I can’t stop the panic that sets in. “What’s up?”
Ez sighs and sets his drink down before he pushes to his feet. He rounds the counter, coming toward me, and stops inches from where I’m sitting. I have to twist the seat around to face him, and I realize he’s close, far too fucking close.
“There’s something that’s been playing on my mind for a while now,” he says, his voice low, a whisper drenched in emotion I don’t want to consider is real. The silence that hangs between us is stifling. This is what I’ve imagined so many times over the years. I craved the moment he’d realize there is sexual tension between us. It’s not my imagination. Even my sister asked me once why we don’t just get together. The thing about it is, it’s not as easy. There are people out there who would judge us, especially Ezryn’s parents.
“And that is?” I throw out, trying to tamp my nerves that are frayed beyond recognition. Playing it cool is what I do best. Nobody suspects the bad boy in leather to be gay.
“When I do this,” he says, reaching for my face and cupping my cheek in his palm. “What do you feel?” His touch is gentle, his hand warm. Jolts of electricity shoot through every nerve in my body. We’ve come into contact before, but not like this, not with emotion attached to it.
“Why?” I croak, my voice breaking as I look at him. Even though he’s standing and I’m seated, the stool gives me enough height that I don’t have to tilt my head back. We’re both five-eight, both broad-shouldered, with lean muscle.
“Because I need to know before we leave for college,” he tells me then. “I have to know.” His face takes on a serious expression, one that tells me he’s not joking around. There is no amusement in his eyes, and those perfectly sculpted lips are pursed.
“I don’t know what to tell you, Ez,” I say with a shrug of nonchalance, but he’s not buying it because his other hand lands on my thigh, which has my dick throbbing in my jeans. All I can do is pray he doesn’t notice it. I don’t know how many times I’ve dreamed of him, fantasized about his lips, his body, his fucking hands. I get lost in my mind as I envision him more times than I care to admit.
“Look me in the eye and tell me you feel nothing when I lean in close,” he continues taunting me, and he does lower his head until our faces are inches apart. There have been times over the years when we would wrestle while playing football out in the garden, when we would be in the swimming pool messing around, but those were nothing compared to this.
He can’t know how I feel. I’ve hidden it well. But his actions say one thing, and my heart thudding against my ribs tells me another. I open my mouth to speak, but I can’t find words. I don’t want to say something that would deter him.
“Sorin,” he says my name in a gentle, almost seductive way. He tastes it on his tongue as if it’s the first time he’s saying it. “Please,” he pleads, and I almost lose my shit and kiss him. My breathing is labored as I try to focus on everything other than him being right in my face, his hand on my leg, the way he’s holding my face. If he wants to know the truth, he can make the first move. I don’t intend to lose my best friend because I’m an idiot.
I swallow back the lump in my throat and focus on his eyes instead of his perfect lips. “If I say anything, it could change everything.” I don’t have to say anything more because he knows. There’s no longer denying that I feel more for him than he thought.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” The pain in his voice slices through me, and before I have time to say anything, he leans in farther and presses his lips to mine. The contact is warm, soft, but when his teeth capture my lower lip and he bites down, a groan of bliss rumbles in my chest.
I’m dreaming.
I must be fucking dreaming.
My cock hardens, thickening against my zipper, and yet, when I close my eyes and lose myself to him, I know I don’t want to wake up. This is where I’m meant to be. It’s like coming home after a long stint away, and I finally feelnormal.
CHAPTER TWO
EZRYN
Idon’t know what I’m doing. This is new to me and it’s not what I planned. It’s been years since I felt anything for anyone the way I love this boy I’m currently kissing. I didn’t ever expect to have the courage to do this. Nothing could prepare me for the desire that’s running hot through my veins right now. But it’s there, rampant, like a storm raging through me.
When I finally break the kiss, I look at Sorin, who’s been my best friend for the better part of my life, and I find him as surprised as I am. His mouth moves, but no words come out. His lips are still wet from the kiss, and I can’t stop replaying how his tongue felt tangled with mine.
My folks told me he’s the bad boy in the neighborhood, but I couldn’t stay away. They allowed our friendship, but I could tell they were nervous. I don’t know if they thought he would drag me into trouble at every turn or not. He didn’t. And I know he never will.
Growing up, he used to get into fights all the time. But even so, he never allowed me to get in the middle of it. There were times I wanted to only because I cared about him. But he would tell me to leave the moment shit went down.
One night, when he came to me bloody and bruised, needing help, I realized how much I had fallen in love with him. I’ve had girlfriends before, and I cared for them. But none of them captured my attention like my best friend did.
“Why did you do that?” he asks me, dragging me from the shocked state I’m in. He doesn’t look angry, but his voice is tinged with frustration. I needed to know how he felt. If he pushed me away, then it would have solidified my stupidity at wanting my best friend in ways I shouldn’t. “Ez,” he calls me when I don’t answer. “Why the fuck would you do that?”
“I had to know.”
“Know what?” This time, he is angry. I’ve seen him when he’s in a fit of rage. This isn’t as bad thankfully, but it’s still up there with me taking a step back. “What did you need to know?”