by Neve Wilder
I excused myself and wove through a few clusters of people and out the front door. No sooner had I taken a step outside than a hand closed around the back of my neck, yanking me off the stoop and into the shadows. A chill washed over me as my beer sloshed against my torso.
“Fu—” Eric’s mouth collided with mine, and I dropped my cup altogether in favor of wrapping my hands around his biceps and shoving him against the clapboard siding.
“I swear to God,” I muttered against his mouth.
“Isn’t that blasphemy?” He tilted his head back, gazing at me through hooded eyes.
“Everything is with you. I’ve got beer all over my shirt now, thanks.”
“That was a miscalculation.”
“Engineering fail.”
He laughed. “I’ll do better next time.”
“What’re you doing out here anyway?”
“Saying hello.”
He nicked my chin with his teeth, then shoved me backward and hopped back onto the stoop where he flung open the door as I spluttered. “Are you kidding me? That’s it?”
He pointed inside with a smirk. “Not sure if you’re aware or not, but there’s a party going on in there. Needs a chaperone.”
“And you’re the worst man for the job. One day I’m going to tie your ass to a chair so you can’t run off after you get me hard.”
He winked at me. “I’m down. It’ll be epic.”
I shoved him through the door, half-heartedly aggravated that my comment hadn’t met any kind of resistance, but more excited by the prospect. In the past six months, we’d fucked all over the place, and in a variety of configurations that never failed to intrigue and excite me. Our sex life was an endlessly unfolding origami of different pleasures, even the odd quickie hand job here and there leaving me on fire for hours afterward. We’d fucked around with light bondage, but damn, the idea of tying Eric to a chair? The visual knotted up in my stomach and seared through my groin.
I grabbed the back of his shirt as I followed him inside, leaning in when he stopped to speak close to his ear. “Five minutes, you and me, upstairs bathroom.”
Eric angled his head back, lips tipping up in a smirk, “Oh really? You—”
A sharp crack split the air and was followed by shouts and commotion. Eric cocked his head curiously, but I knew the sound of a fight and was already stepping around him and heading toward the patio, trying to anticipate who was getting into it. There were plenty of options. Jesse had a fucking mouth on him when he was hammered, and there were other people I didn’t know very well here, too. Ours wasn’t the only party happening in the complex that night. Kinda went with the college territory.
I spilled through the sliding glass door with Eric on my heels. One of the kegs had gotten knocked over, and two guys were going at it on the ground, grunting and swinging as they jockeyed for position. Half the people out there were just standing around watching. A fourth were egging it on, and Richard and Sam were making wild grabs, trying to avoid being hit as Amanda shouted from the sidelines. Richard grabbed her as she started to join the fray.
Fucking Mark and Chet.
Sam wrapped his arm around Chet’s torso, and it took me a second to figure out he was holding him for Mark, not trying to drag him out of the commotion. “Sam, Jesus,” I barked as I reached for Mark.
Eric shoved Sam away from Chet and Sam bowed up like he was about to knock Eric in the jaw until he realized who it was and lifted his hands, taking a step back. Mark struggled against my grip for a handful of seconds, then noodled in my arms. I could tell how drunk he was by the graceless, heavy way he collapsed against me, and I steadied him on his feet as he muttered, “Piece of shit.” He had a shiner on his cheek to Chet’s busted lip.
“You’re both shithoused,” Eric said, then softer to Chet, “Cut it the fuck out, dude. You’re outnumbered here.”
Chet swiped at his mouth, then spat into the grass. “I’m done.” Running a hand over his hair, he laughed and lifted his middle finger to Mark as he wrenched out of Eric’s grasp. “That was a fuckin’ trip and a half, you goddamn nut job.” With a shake of his head, he turned on his heel and swaggered around the side of the complex.
I yanked Mark around to face me. “You need to let that go, man.”
Mark’s expression tensed as he twisted his head to follow Chet’s progress, a flash of rage passing through his eyes. When he turned back to me, the muscles at his jaw twitched like he wanted to say something else before he shrugged instead. “Yeah, all right. It’s done.”
The turnabout was so unexpected, I squinted, but was ready to let it go in the name of moving the fuck on.
“Hey, jackass!”
Mark’s head swiveled.
Eric was still loosely grasping Amanda’s upper arm when she tossed the rest of her beer, including the cup at Mark’s face. She was spot-fucking-on, too. I got caught in the crossfire, and a couple of the brothers righting the keg stopped to stare, then hooted and shouted as Mark wiped a hand down his face and flipped them off. Eric took Amanda by the shoulders and trotted her off to the side yard where there was a lot of gesturing on her part before she stormed off, too.
“Guess that one’s not gonna to work out.” Mark sighed.
I blotted my face on my tee. It was covered with beer anyway from Eric, what was one more liquid addition. “I’d say not, nope. Are you okay? For real?”
“Yeah. I meant it. I’m done. I’ll catch you soon,” he said, then turned and barked in the direction of the kegs, “Marty, give me a lift, bro,” before striding back into the apartment.
The party raged on without any further fights, and Eric and I finally crashed in bed at 4:30. Both of us were gonna be hurting tomorrow. I took a swig from the water bottle he’d set out for me on the nightstand by my side of the bed and then flicked off the lamp. The perfect silence of our breath wrapped around me and tugged me toward sleep as Eric rolled over to face me.
“Resoundingly successful housewarming?” he asked, and I laughed, throwing my arm around him. Way too tired to fuck, but I’d come to appreciate just being tangled up together.
“At least the police didn’t get called.”
“It’s early days.”
“Think I’m good for a while, honestly. I’d rather go trash someone else’s place than ours.” Ours. Damn, I liked the sound of that.
As if he knew what I was thinking, Eric rubbed his chin against mine and kissed the corner of my mouth, his breath warm and minty and still faintly tinged with beer as he said, “Do you know how fucking glad I am that I walked in on you? We should do a reenactment sometime.”
I chuckled. “I’ll put it on the list.” It was a running joke between us that really wasn’t a joke at all, because I did have an actual mental list of things I wanted to do with him. And we’d hardly even scratched the surface. It’d take years, I imagined, and I had zero qualms about that kind of timeline. I wasn’t going anywhere.
“Mmmm. So many things to do,” he murmured sleepily, rolling onto his back and spreading his hand low over my abdomen, a possessiveness in the gesture that had me heaving out a satisfied sigh in response.
As we lay in the darkness, the pattern of Eric’s breathing slowing until I was certain he was asleep, this sense of pure giddiness ran through me, like racing through the park as a kid, or standing in front of the tree on Christmas morning, or the moment I got my driver’s license—little slices of joy I’d accumulated over my lifetime so far. And now lying here with Eric next to me came another that balled up in my chest and pulsed with all the other moments small and large. It raced through me like an endorphin high, bright inside my mind, and then ebbed gently into a deep, thrumming contentment.
I fucking loved my life.
Also Available: Dedicated
“Our biggest hit is a love song I wrote for my bandmate. And he has no idea.”
Two rockers, a handful of secrets, and a publicity nightmare tossed in a remote cabin. Shaken and stirred with snark, ang
st, and a shit ton of sexual tension. Kaboom, y'all. A friends-to-lovers rockstar romance.
getbook.at/Dedicated
This needs to go right to the top of your TBR pile. It is MAGIC. If friends to lovers is AT ALL your thing, then look no further. This is the best one I've ever read. The characters are magnetic throughout and the story progresses in a wonderfully meaningful (and sometimes rocky) way. Ends with a HEA that is so, so satisfying.
—Amazon Reviewer
So many adjectives I could use for this book; soulful, dirty, gripping, honest and most of all, it’s full of heart and it brought every emotion to the fore. I’m stone cold in love with this author’s writing and desperate for more.
—OMG Reads
Sparks fly, banter is slung, gut-punch moments had me sucking in a deep breath as the emotions resonated within me, and the sexual tension was off the charts smoking hot. Their relationship was real and raw, even with all the duplicity surrounding them.
Not going to lie, I spent the entire day with my nose buried in my Kindle, eagerly tapping the pages and ignoring life, from page one until the end.
—Wicked Reads
Also Available: Center of Gravity
Center of Gravity was my debut mm romance, a tissues-required, slow burn age gap romance about love, sacrifice, redemption, and family.
mybook.to/CenterOfGravity
"Once in a while, a book comes along and knocks you for six; this is one of those books. It was a joy to read and it had so much depth, that it reached another level for me."
—OMGReads
"Center Of Gravity is just what I hope for and rarely find when reading a new author and new contemporary romance. It's that marvelous, heartwarming story full of just about every element that grabs at you and compels you to read it!"
—Scattered Thoughts & Rogue Words
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About Neve Wilder
Neve Wilder lives in the southern U.S., where the summers are hot and the winters are...sometimes cold.
She reads promiscuously, across multiple genres, but her favorite stories always contain an element of romance. Incidentally, this is also what she likes to write. Slow-burners with delicious tension? Yes. Whiplash-inducing page-turners, also yes. Down and dirty scorchers? Yes. And every flavor in between.
She believes David Bowie was the sexiest musician to ever live, and she's always game to nerd out on anything from music to writing.
And finally, she believes that love conquers all. Except the heat index in July. Nothing can conquer that bastard.
Visit her on the web:
www.nevewilder.com