A moment later, a drink is shoved in my hand, and my gaze flicks up to Brian, who takes up the place on the other side of the girl, grinding against her from the front.
My eyes hang on Brian’s for a beat too long. There’s too much intensity there. It’s hard to breathe. I quickly drop my gaze, but then my naughty eyes are on his lips.
I should be imagining kissing the girl who’s grinding her ass against me right now, but all I can see is Brian. All I can do is wonder what it would be like to kiss him.
And now my cock is hard.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
The girl spins around and throws her arms around my shoulders. “Enjoying yourself?”
“Hell yeah,” I answer, forcing my voice to stay even.
“I can tell.”
I’m not sure how I actually feel, but part of the point of coming out tonight was to hook up again. To figure out if Brian is part of the reason I haven’t—if it’s real feelings or the lines of our friendship getting fuzzy.
From behind the girl, Brian takes a step back, nods to me, and walks away. Because why would he be anything but supportive of me hooking up? It doesn’t matter that I’m questioning everything about our friendship if all he sees is friendship between us.
But Christy was right. I can’t worry about his feelings until I figure out my own. Which has been harder than I thought it would be now that we’re living together.
Whose brilliant idea was that?
Oh, yeah. Mine. Well, I never said I wasn’t a dumbass.
Don’t get me wrong. That penthouse is fantastic. But one of us could’ve rented it. I’m sure there were other non-penthouse apartments in that building. We had options. But I had tosuggest it. Had to push. Because I want Brian close to me. Even if it might kill me in the long run.
“Want to head back to one of theprivaterooms?” the girl I’m dancing with asks.
Not really. But I need to confront this. This is my chance to find out what happens if I try to hook up with someone else. Maybe if I get some of the sexual tension out of my body, I’ll stop feeling things for Brian. That makes sense, right? It’s been too long since I’ve been intimate with someone else, so I’m transferring that intimacy to Brian because he’s my best friend and the closest person to me—figuratively and literally. That’s what it could be. Or it could be actual feelings.
Time to find out.
I grab the girl’s hand. “Let’s go…”
“Amber.”
“Amber. Let’s have some fun.”
Time to nut up—and, well, hopefullynut.
It’s been way too long since I fucked something besides a toy or my hand.
This’ll be good for me.
But the closer we get to the back of the club where the private rooms are, the more my internal hype-talk fades.
I swing open the door of one of the rooms, making sure it’s empty, then lead her inside.
She smiles at me, then does that thing with her eyes thatbeckons me closer.
What can I say? I’ve been on a historical romance kick.
She leans against the wall next to the door, and I step into her space, pressing one hand flat against the wall by her head and leaning into her.
My lips brush hers, and I feel… absolutely nothing.
I wasn’t expecting some soul-deep emotional connection, but I was expecting some chemistry. Attraction. Something. But there’s nothing. Not a smidge of desire to be found.
