Liam peeked out from under his arm and stared at Coury. His gaze swept up and down and then back up until their eyes met. “You should take them off for me.” He wiggled his brows. “And then take yours off, too, and come lie next to me.”
“Ha, right.” Coury took his shirt off and grabbed two T-shirts from his drawer. He tossed one on the bed for Liam and pulled the other over his own head. From the drawer below, he took out two pairs of navy-blue Harrison gym shorts. He flipped one pair on top of the tee on his bed.
“You gonna sleep like that?”
“Fine.” Liam pushed himself up and nearly fell over reaching for the clothes Coury had set out. “Oops.”
Coury jumped over just in time to prevent Liam from falling on the floor. “Come on. Try to get your shirt off.”
Liam pulled it from the bottom up and the white cotton fabric got stuck over his face; Coury grabbed a handful of shirt and helped ease it over Liam’s head. His lean torso heaved with each breath, and Coury had to tear his gaze away from the tight abs covered in a dusting of light brown hair.
“Here.” He held out the T-shirt. “Can you get that on without falling over?”
Liam stuck out his tongue but managed, eventually, to get the shirt on.
“Pants next.”
Liam crossed his arms over his chest. “You first.”
Whatever it took. Liam watched him step out of his jeans, drape them over a chair, and quickly put on his shorts. “Your turn.”
Ready to steady Liam if needed, Coury let him slide the denim down before easing him back onto the bed. Liam tried to kick off his jeans, but they got tangled and he lost his balance. He flopped back and didn’t move.
With a deep sigh, Coury grabbed the cuffs and yanked them and the socks off in one fluid motion. Liam wore olive-green boxer briefs that hugged his muscular legs and did little to hide his excited state. Turning quickly, Coury slung the pants on the chair.
“Put the shorts on and get in bed.”
“Only if you join me.”
“Nope, I’m sleeping in Luke’s bed.”
“Why? Don’t you like me?”
“Of course I like you. You’re totally freaking awesome.”
Liam struggled into the shorts and looked away. “Then come sleep with me.”
“Liam,” Coury said softly. “You’re too drunk. Ask me when you’re sober and you know what you’re saying.”
Flopping back onto the mattress, Liam whispered, “I’ve liked you since I was twelve.”
Coury froze. Since he was twelve?
Liam’s eyes closed.
Coury waited for more, for an explanation, but the quiet stretching between them quickly shifted in quality. Liam’s mouth parted and his breath grew heavy and regular.
Coury gently eased the blanket back until he was able to cover Liam. Sleep softened the wary expression Liam wore far too often.
Twelve?
The beer might have loosened Liam’s tongue, but he’d meant what he said. He’d meant that kiss, too.
Flicking off the lights, Coury slipped into Luke’s bed and stared at Liam’s prone outline.
Coury’s mind replayed all their teenage moments together, looking for clues, and this time seeing them. He felt stupid he hadn’t noticed it earlier . . . that he’d not paid the right attention.
It made him smile in the dark. Made his belly flap with butterflies. Made it impossible to sleep.
