He trembles, exhaling sharply. “Me, too. I can’t stop thinking about the way your cock felt inside me,” he whimpers, his moany, gaspy voice threatening to undo me in the middle of a freaking parking lot. I go from hard to extra hard from his words, zaps of electricity crawling across my back. Just as I am reaching for his bulge, he pushes me away, panting and livid. “But you are Ben, Ethan’s best friend. And um, I only do casual now. Friends with benefits. I don’t date because love is a scam. So, uh, I think it’s best that we didn’t see each other again.”
My mind races, trying to keep up. He doesn’t date… Love is a scam… I latch onto those, the statements throwing me into an even bigger frenzy. Does that mean he wants to date me, but doesn’t want to because… he doesn’t believe I could be serious about him? Where is this coming from? It’s some very skewed logic, and I have no idea why his smart mind has even gone there, but he couldn’t be more wrong.
My mouth stretches into a smile. I can’t help it. He drives me crazy. “No.”
He frowns, lines creasing his forehead. “No?”
I tuck my hands into my pockets, leaning against the side of a car. “No. I’m not backing off, Charlie. You do only friends-with-benefits? Fine by me. I don’t know what happened to you or what made you believe such silly stuff, but I’m not making the same mistake again. I’ve wanted you for a very long time. I tried to forget you, to move on. And then you pop into my life, like some ghost haunting me from my past.” I grin, yearning to wrap my arms around him and squish him until the suspicion in his eyes leaves. But I don’t. I’m up against a bristled cat, I can feel it. I need to approach with caution.
“What are you talking about?” he protests, but even so, his voice is a little breathless and his eyes searching.
“You liked me, didn’t you?”
He gapes at me, jaw hanging and cheeks red. “That’s not—”
I arch an eyebrow.
He groans, looking like he wants to be anywhere but here with me. “We were kids, okay? It’s in the past.”
Is it though? Then why say all those things? Why explain the reason he doesn’t want to hook up or date me? Why flush even more and avert his gaze?
It clicks then, why he was giving me the evil eye earlier. It’s because of this. It’s some kind of conflict he’s dealing with on the inside, something that’s preventing him from enjoying this second chance at us that we are being given.
Well, it’s a good thing I’m a great problem-solver, then, isn’t it?
I walk over to him and enter his personal space. “Are you free tonight?”
He looks ready to bolt. “No, I have a tournament. Why?”
That’s… actually pretty cool. “Text me your address. I’m coming over.”
“Wait, you are? Why?”
“Isn’t that obvious?” I say and lean down, nipping the tip of his ear. “I want to watch you play. I bet you are hot as fuck when you are in gamer mode. I’ll give you a reward if you win.”
He’s speechless for a few moments, the air around us heavy with tension. God, I hope I didn’t push too far. But if I want a real go at us, I need to make things happen or he’ll just push me away.
“But I haven’t agreed to any of this,” he points out, glowering.
I shrug casually, pretending I’m not on the edge of my seat. I don’t know what I’ll do if he turns me down. “If you want out, now is your chance. So, what will it be?”
He frowns, chewing on his lip. I want to kiss him. I barely manage not to.
“Okay,” he breathes out just as I am starting to think that cornering him was a terrible idea and I should’ve tried to get him used to me first. “But it’s just sex. I was serious about the love thing, okay? So you don’t have to pretend to be into me or anything. I won’t fall for it.”
There is a story there, I can tell. The conviction and distaste that crosses over Charlie’s face makes that clear as day. Some asshole must’ve fucked up royally to give this lovely man such an evil streak. Or maybe he’s always had it, hidden and locked. Either way, it’s hot.
“Fine. I promise I won’tpretendto like you.”
Because I already do.
Chapter 7
Charlie
I walk around mylounge where my computer setup is, tidying up the clothes and fast-food cartons littering the floor. I still can’t believe the hot jock from that night is Ethan’s best friend, Ben. This has to be some cosmic intervention throwing a curveball at me.
“This was a bad idea,” I mumble under my breath, throwing a sweaty T-shirt into the laundry basket.
