But, tonight.
Tonight, I did a shitty job showing Sawyer that was how I felt. And it had nothing to do with him being gay. I was pissed at being left out. Not that he’d come out and told me. I saw it with my own eyes. Sawyer hadn’t seen me when he walked out of the elevator. I’d left work early, exhausted from the last few late nights hanging out with Sawyer. What I hadn’t expected was to see Sawyer with his lips pressed to another guy’s.
When it finally registered, I froze in my tracks. Sawyer shoved the guy up against the wall, their mouths pressed together. There was a peek of tongue as their lips moved against each other. I couldn’t move. My eyes glued to the men making out against the wall. Sawyer’s fingers gripped the other man’s bicep in a not so gentle grip. My brain couldn’t believe what I was seeing. Sawyer was gay? How did I not know?
I kept my eyes glued to them. It was not a sweet makeout session in the dark. It was rough and passionate. As I wrapped my mind around it all, the more pissed off I got. The way they held each other. Sawyer’s sole focus on the man before him. Something I wanted. Not that I could explain why.
Of course we had things away from our time together. I had my job at the law firm. He had Jaded Ivory. But every other moment we spent together. Almost like the last few years had never happened. Something about the way they held each other made me want to drag Sawyer away from him.
Fuck.
I was jealous.
Jealous of a man I never met. A man who was kissing my best friend. Of being left in the dark.
When Sawyer hadn’t heard the elevator at first, I froze in my tracks. My tongue was tied in knots. Once I regained control, I couldn’t help but lose my shit on him. He’d lied to me. I almost didn’t come when he asked me to meet him at his place. The longer I drove and visions of what could have happened between them had I not interrupted ran through my head, my anger grew. By the time I pulled up in front of his house, blood roared through my ears.
I let my anger and jealousy, something I wasn’t ready to think about, get the better of me. There were two choices. I could go home knowing this was my choice to walk away or I could get my ass in the house and talk to him. I reached for the keys to turn the engine over and yanked them out instead. There was no question. I wouldn’t lose Sawyer over this.
Both of his and Heath’s cars were parked out front. Not that Heath being home would stop me. I walked up to the door and knocked, afraid to wake up whoever might be sleeping. It might kill me, but if no one answered, I’d wait until morning.
“’ome in,” Sawyer’s voice groggily called through the door.
Shit. I hadn’t wanted to wake him. I pushed the door open and realized I didn’t wake him. Sawyer sat on the couch with an open bottle of tequila on the table next to him. God, I was an asshole. I never thought Sawyer would touch tequila again after that night. Yet, there he sat completely shit-faced.
And it was my fault.
He cracked one eye open. “What are you doing here?”
His words were slurred, but that didn’t stop him from picking up the bottle and bringing it back to his lips.
“I came to talk. How much have you had to drink?”
He let the bottle drop back onto the table. “Talk? Talk about what?” He pushed himself off the couch. “How much you hate me?”
Sawyer stepped toward me and stumbled. Before he could hit the ground, I rushed forward and wrapped my arms around his waist, hauling him to standing. I held him there, afraid he might fall again. His eyes connected with mine.
“I could never hate you.”
Sawyer’s eyes dropped to my lips. His words from earlier replayed in my head. I wanted something I couldn’t have. I’d been too pissed off to realize what he’d been saying. The words died in my throat as I watched him. Everything was happening in slow motion. I knew what was coming, but I was powerless to stop it. And truthfully, I didn’t want to stop it.
Sawyer’s lips covered mine. And an electric jolt ran through me. I expected it to feel weird, another man’s lips on mine, but this was Sawyer. The man I’d rather spend time with over anyone else. And it didn’t. His lips were softer than I expected. But he was drunk. I knew I should stop him. I didn’t want him to blame himself in the morning for what happened.
I lifted my hands to his biceps to move him backward. Instead, I pulled him closer to me. His tongue grazed over my bottom lip. My head was spinning. Without a thought, I moved my hand to fist in the back of his hair and opened my mouth, letting him inside. A fog filled my head. There was only me and him. The rough scratch of his scruff made me hold him tighter to me. Our tongues twisted and twirled around each other. I could taste the tequila on his lips.
Suddenly, my back hit the wall. I was so lost, I hadn’t even realized he moved me. He lifted his head and cupped my face with his hands. For the briefest of moments, I thought he was going to walk away and disappointment burned through me. Then he tilted his head and came back in. The fire began again. I held him tight, letting my tongue tangle with his once more. His hips thrust forward, his hard cock sliding against mine, and I groaned. My dick was hard too, and oh fuck, it felt good sliding against his. Confusion started to seep in, but I pushed it away. I’d figure out what it all meant later. Right then, I wanted to live in the moment.
When Sawyer pulled back again, we were both panting. His eyes were hooded. I couldn’t stop my eyes from dropping to see the outline of his dick behind his pants. He ran a hand over his face, swaying on his feet.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered.
I watched him stumble backward, barely making it to the couch. He dropped down and leaned his head back, closing his eyes. And I was frozen to the spot. I didn’t know what to do or say. My head was a mess. I forced my feet to move forward. I wouldn’t let him feet guilty over what happened. I was the sober one. I could have stopped it.
My hands shook as I walked toward that couch. I had no idea what to say to him, but I had to say something. I stood in front of him. “Sawyer, look at me.” When he didn’t respond, I shook him, only to watch his head loll to the side.
Fucker had passed out on me.
Rolling my eyes, I bent at the waist and threw him over my shoulder in a fireman’s carry. Maybe it was the chicken shit way out, but a part of me was relieved we didn’t have to talk about any of this until morning. It gave me a chance to figure out what the hell just happened and why even just carrying him to his room made me think about doing kissing him again. Covers bunched at the bottom of the bed where he’d kicked them off this morning. Some things never changed. The man was still a slob. I laid him on the bed and pulled the covers up over him. There would be one hell of a hangover in the morning.
Afraid he’d puke in the middle of the night, I grabbed the trash can from the other side of his room and set it next to the bed. In his condition, there was no way he was making it to the bathroom. He moved his hand to his chest and for the first time I noticed the swelling around his knuckles. Shit. Best guess, he’d hit something. His hands were his life. There were small cuts at the edges. It didn’t look broken. At least I hoped like hell it wasn’t.
The wall between us just kept getting higher. Was it worth the climb?
With everything taken care of, I stood in the middle of the dark room, wondering what to do with myself. Home wasn’t far. I could come back in the morning. A part of me feared if I went home, I’d avoid dealing with it all and only cause Sawyer more pain.
Fuck it.
It wouldn’t be the first time I slept next to him. We’d done it a hundred times as kids. I toed off my shoes and lay down on top of the covers. No need to give him the wrong idea when he woke up. Then again, what was the wrong idea? I kissed him back tonight. His tongue was in my mouth and I got hard. Painfully hard. Just thinking about it made me reach down and adjust my growing erection. The craziest part? I wasn’t freaking out about it. Not yet, anyway.
What the hell was going on in my head?
I stared into the
darkness. The light from the street lamp cast shadows through the blinds. There were frames on the dresser and a drum kit in the corner. I had no doubt if I looked around the floor I’d find at least five or more sets of drumsticks lying around.
Sawyer grunted in his sleep. My attention was immediately drawn back to the man next to me. Not once in my entire life had I noticed another man. But I’d noticed Sawyer over the last few months. Little things here and there I’d brushed off as being happy to spend time with him again. Apparently that wasn’t the case.
And never had I had the desire to stick my tongue down a guy’s throat. Then again it was Sawyer, and I guaranteed if he were awake, I’d want to do it again. His lean muscles outlined by the white sheet and I thought about the way he boxed me against the wall. No woman would have the size or strength to do that. For some reason, that thought alone made me harder than anything.
I liked kissing a guy.
I liked his hard body against mine.
I liked kissing Sawyer.
Maybe all of it had to do with seeing Sawyer with that other guy. Whatever it was, I had to know why. Questions ran through my head over and over throughout the night. Sleep was a pipe dream at that point. With so many thoughts and feelings I didn’t understand, I knew the only way I’d figure out an answer was with Sawyer. I had to know the reason. It didn’t matter that I needed sleep for my meeting, but at the same rate I doubted I’d be there the next day. I’d deal with that later. For once, work didn’t seem all that important.
Every time Sawyer moved or made a noise, my whole body reacted to the sound. I held my hands tightly to my side to keep from reaching over and touching him again. If Sawyer wanted to discover this with me, he needed to have a clear head. The night passed slowly. More light began to filter through the blinds and I waited.
“Shit,” Sawyer groaned from the other side of the bed.
Time to figure out what last night meant.
CHAPTER 18
Sawyer
Everything hurt.
Including my eyes, which I kept tightly shut. I knew it was morning by the bright lights reflecting off my lids. What I really wanted was to fall back asleep and back into the dream where Reagan didn’t hate me. Where he actually wanted me. I moved my head slightly on the pillow and instantly regretted it. How much did I drink last night? My head pounded and my stomach churned. I froze, no desire to puke up last night’s bad decisions.
The bed moved again and I groaned.
“Tequila has never been good to you.”
My eyes snapped open. The light burned, but I slowly turned my head to the right.
Reagan was lying in my bed.
In my bed.
“Morning.” He didn’t take his eyes off me.
“What are you—”
Images, most blurry, flooded my head. Lots of tequila. Reagan showing up. More tequila. Almost falling. Me kissing Reagan. I clenched my eyes shut. Not just kissing him. Attacking him as I pinned him up against a wall. Fucking hell. Tequila really wasn’t good to me.
“Sawyer?” A warm hand landed on my shoulder.
My muscles tightened, heat radiating out from where his skin touched mine. The images replayed themselves again and again. “Please tell me it was a dream.”
“Sawyer…”
Something about the gravely tone of his voice made me open my eyes. “Please,” I begged.
He shook his head. “Not a dream.”
My stomach lurched and I threw my feet over the bed. The trash can was already there waiting for me. I grabbed it and emptied my stomach into the can. It had been bad enough Reagan saw me with Kyle. Kissing him had to be the dumbest thing I’d ever done. I lowered the can to floor to the get the smell out of my face and leaned my elbows on my knees. I wasn’t ready to face him yet. The bed shifted.
What the fuck had I been thinking?
That’s right, I hadn’t. My man Jose did all it for me.
“Feel better?”
I shook my head slightly, bracing myself for the pain that came with it. “Not really. No.”
“Can I get you something?”
I scoffed and glanced over my shoulder. “A memory eraser?” I said it hoping he would laugh. We could joke about tequila and bad decisions. We’d salvage our friendship. Then I could do everything in my power to forget what it felt like kissing the only man I had ever loved.
He didn’t laugh.
“Don’t do that. I don’t want to forget last night and neither do you.”
I turned to face him. He was lying on his side facing me, his head resting in his hand. “Did I miss something when I was drunk last night? Or did you forget you’re straight and I’m gay? Why wouldn’t you want to forget last night?”
He lifted a brow. “How much do you remember?”
I groaned. “Besides me forcing myself on you?”
“You don’t remember everything then.”
I turned away from him again, dropping my head into my hands. “I’m not sure I wanna know more.”
The bed next to me dipped and I looked over. He smirked. “You look like hell. You’re not ready for the conversation I want to have. Go grab a shower, then we’ll talk.”
There was no trace of the anger from last night in his voice. It was calm. A calm that belied the slight tremor in his hand. I’d fucked everything up last night. My hand clenched into a fist and I immediately released it, hissing out a breath. A quick glance down and I recalled my fist connecting with the wall downstairs. I lifted it to inspect the damage. The swelling wasn’t as bad as I feared. I opened and closed my fingers a few times.
“Will you be able to play tonight?” His brows pulled together.
Concern and calm didn’t go at all with the ‘fuck off’ I braced myself for. Made me wonder what conversation he wanted to have.
“Reagan, I—”
He shook his head. “Go get in the shower. We’ll talk when you’re done.”
He took both hands, placing them on my back, and pushed me up until I was standing. The move wasn’t out of the ordinary. When one of us wanted to go somewhere we had no problem forcing the other to get a move on. Everything was different today. Each touch set me on fire. A fire I knew I’d have to find a way to extinguish by the end of the day. I’d had my tongue in his mouth and even though I knew it would never happen, I wanted more. I wanted his hands on me, not only to get me to the shower. I wanted them to wrap around my cock and jerk me to release. I glanced back at him.
“Go,” he ordered.
Nothing would get him to tell me what was going through his head. My stomach rocked. I didn’t think I had enough strength to listen to him tell me he was done. A small part of me thought maybe I was better off if he did. I was completely aware that our friendship would never be the same. Even if a part of it could be salvaged.
I made my way past Heath’s door. He had a hell of a lot of explaining to do. Like why the hell I woke up with Reagan in my bed. He knew I didn’t handle tequila well and he let him in anyway. I opened the door and closed it quietly behind me. I didn’t need an audience for this. Fucker was fast asleep with no care in the world. I grabbed the deodorant from the dresser and chucked it at him. It hit him right in the back.
“What the fuck?” He flipped over, glaring at me. “What the hell was that for?”
“Really, dickhead? I woke up with Reagan in my bed and you wonder why I threw shit at you?”
He sat up. “He’s here?”
“What do you mean ‘he’s here?’ Didn’t you let him in?”
He scrubbed a hand over his face. “Nope. I left your drunk ass on the couch and went to bed.”
“Then how the hell…”
Heath’s eyes traveled from my head down. “Jesus, you look like shit and you smell like a cheap-ass bar. My guess is you let him and don’t remember it.”
I leaned back against the door, closing my eyes. Hammers pounded in my brain. “Apparently, there’s a lot about last night I don’t remember.”
“Yeah, yeah. How was I supposed to know he’d come back? I figured I’d wallow in self-pity for a while and deal with the hangover today. I didn’t plan on sticking my tongue down his throat.”
Heath’s mouth dropped open. “You did what?”
“I fucking kissed him. Of all the stupid ass—”
He held up both hands. “Wait. You’re telling me, you kissed him and he still stayed the night?”
My head thumped against the door. “Yep.”
“Then what are you doing in my room? Go back there and get what you’ve always wanted.” He looked at me again. “Umm…maybe you better shower first.”
I scoffed. “That’s where I was headed when I stopped in here. Says he wants me to have a clear head to talk.”
“Then go get your ass in the shower and get the fuck back to your room.” He pulled the covers up and lay back down.
“Even if by some miracle that was a possibility, I can’t…”
Heath cracked one eye open. “Yes, you can. It’s why Mari and I sent you out last night.”
“Fuck, please don’t tell me you were hoping this would happen.”
He opened both eyes fully. “No. Reagan finding out is just a bonus.”
My hands clenched into fists. Would they really want me to out myself when I wasn’t ready? He didn’t seem to notice and kept speaking.
“You don’t need to keep hiding who you are. Shit, Monty and Jackson don’t even know. I’ve been begging you for years to tell them the truth. There’s no way you’re ever going to be happy keeping a part of yourself hidden. No matter how much success we get. Even if you don’t want the whole world to know, finding someone means you won’t have to hide anything from the people who give a shit about you.”
I opened my mouth to say something, but he didn’t give me a chance.
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