Melting - Sean Ashcroft Page 0,23

me, shoulders almost brushing.

“Hayden Lewis,” I said. “Were you jealous?”

Hayden turned to look at me, throat working as he swallowed.

Oh shit.

“Yes,” he said, barely above a whisper.

Oh.

He was already looking at the creek again, thumb still rubbing the railing.

I got my phone out, opened the conversation we’d been having earlier, and sent him a message.

10

Hayden

What was I saying?

My heart felt like it was pounding in my throat, a cold shiver rolling down my spine as I thought about what I’d just done. What I’d just said.

Wes wasn’t interested. He’d already made that clear—he was trying to help me find someone else, anyone else. But he was kind and warm and funny and he made me feel liked and my stupid hopeless broken heart just wanted someone to like me, just for a little while.

My phone vibrated in my pocket, rescuing me from the anxiety spiral I could feel coming on. I’d been so confident once, but Aaron had made me second-guess everything, and now…

OverEasy: love the new profile pics. Come home with me?

I stared at the message for a long few moments, working up the courage to meet Wes’s eyes.

When I finally did, I could see the same nervousness written all over his face as I could feel coiling up in the pit of my stomach. He was scared, too.

“I’d like that,” I said, pushing down all the fear.

I didn’t do hookups—but I also didn’t do gay bars, eyeliner, or leather jackets.

Wes liked the Hayden who did do those things, and I was on vacation. I was allowed to be different.

I was allowed to be someone that someone like Wes would like.

Wes’s whole face broke into a grin, his eyes sparkling in the moonlight like the creek below, and it felt like a good decision.

“C’mon,” Wes tilted his head in the direction of the car. “I’ll race you.”

We barely made it to Wes’s bedroom before I couldn’t wait any longer, slamming him against the wall and pinning him there. He didn’t resist, didn’t so much as push back as I shoved a hand deep into his hair to hold him still so I could kiss the breath out of his lungs.

Wes’s mouth tasted of sea salt and lime and something I couldn’t identify, and he smelled of leather and fresh air and boy, and I liked boys so much, and I liked this specific boy more than I thought I should have.

“Mmm,” Wes hummed against my mouth, eyes hooded, body trapped under mine, hot and alive and so perfect I could barely handle it.

I wanted him. I hadn’t wanted like this in years, but I wouldn’t be satisfied until I’d licked every inch of his skin and made him come again and again and it was too much to want, too much to ask, but I wanted it anyway.

And I was pretty sure Wes would give it to me.

“You’re so hot right now,” Wes murmured, almost a purr.

“I want you,” I said, because it was still the only thing I could think. I wanted to touch him everywhere, I wanted it so bad I could hardly figure out where to start.

Wes smiled at me, toying with the fabric of my t-shirt. “I’m all yours,” he said, biting his lip as he looked me up and down. “You’re extremely welcome to fuck me.”

I wasn’t about to refuse an offer like that.

The mattress groaned as he hit it, laughing the whole time as I followed him down, pinning him in place again, swooping in for another kiss.

I’d missed this. Not sex, not exactly, but touch. The touch of another human being who wanted to be around me.

“Lube and condoms in the nightstand,” Wes panted, breathless, wriggling under me like he couldn’t contain his excitement.

“Noted,” I said, pausing to take in his flushed cheeks, glazed eyes, heavy lashes, kiss-swollen lips.

He looked like he was having the time of his life, and that felt so good. No wonder people liked him if he made them all feel like the most competent lover in the world.

Wes’s hand slipped under my t-shirt, fingers teasing the sensitive skin just above the waistband of my agonizingly tight jeans.

I almost cried with relief when he opened the zipper, hard cock springing free straight into his hand.

“You’re gonna hate me for this,” he said, slipping his fingers down further, stroking me through my underwear. “But I really like these jeans on you.”

He laughed as my mouth fell open, stroking me again as if to ease the sting.

“Think I’d like ‘em