Melting - Sean Ashcroft Page 0,26

around my chest. Wes broke his promise to himself because he wanted me.

That was nice to hear.

“You could always try again,” I offered, too happy and exhausted to work up the level of anxiety necessary for a reflexive apology.

“Why, are you leaving or something?” he asked, pillow rustling as he turned to look at me.

I swallowed. “You want, uh… you wanna do it again?” I asked, sure I couldn’t get that lucky.

Wes smiled another one of those blindingly gorgeous smiles at me. “Before the next time the clock goes off, if you’re up for it.”

11

Wes

I woke Hayden up twice for sex, and he didn’t even need convincing either time, so I was pretty sure I’d found my soulmate.

The second round was slower than the first, more intense, more touching and exploring and getting to know each other’s bodies. By the time I came I was so ready for it I could practically taste the need in the back of my throat.

And then, because I was the luckiest man alive, the second time I woke, Hayden shuffled under the covers and sucked my cock until I came my goddamn brains out. When he poked his ruffled head out of them again, licking a last drop of come from the corner of his lips like a satisfied cat, I almost came all over again.

I’d returned the favor and I was pretty sure no one had ever enjoyed a blowjob that much before in human history.

Now the sun was up, and Hayden was sprawled out on the bed beside me, bathed in the light filtering through the maple tree outside.

He finally looked his age, fingers curled gently around a ripple in the sheets, lips parted, breathing shallow and even, face relaxed. Those pretty eyelashes looked impossibly long in the morning light, casting delicate shadows on his cheeks, and—

And I was staring.

Staring at Hayden like he was a work by a Pre-Raphaelite master or something.

Not that I knew what one of those would look like. I’d just heard Mark and Andre talking about them in reverent tones.

I was just about to reach out for him when my alarm went off.

My phone fell noisily out of the pocket of my discarded jeans when I picked them up, and I grabbed it with more force than was entirely necessary.

“Shh,” I hissed as I shut the alarm off. “Hayden’s sleeping.”

I looked over at the bed to make sure I hadn’t woken him—he needed the rest—and my heart stopped for a second as I watched him roll over.

But he settled down again, snuggling into the pillow, face turned out of the sunlight now.

Good. I would’ve felt guilty for hours if I’d woken him—especially since that alarm meant I needed to get showered and dressed, and I wouldn’t have time to get him off again.

No matter how much he deserved it. I didn’t know Hayden well, but I knew no man was that grateful for being treated like he was desirable because he’d just amicably walked away from a healthy relationship.

And the thing was, I didn’t know him, but I felt like I did. I’d heard so much about him from his dad and I’d been expecting a lot of things, but Hayden wasn’t at all like I imagined. He didn’t seem like the talented rising star I knew he had to be, that other people said he was.

He seemed sad, and lonely, and almost painfully awkward.

All things I had a weakness for. Especially the awkward. I couldn’t get enough of the awkward, and it was even better when he tried, when he was trying to be cool and sometimes even succeeding.

Shit.

I was developing a crush on him, aside from having a nice, uncomplicated boner for him.

Crushes sucked.

But at least I was in a position to get this one out of my system.

I took one last look at Hayden and then scribbled him a note on a post-it, sticking it to his forehead before grabbing clean clothes and sneaking out of the room to take the quietest shower of my life.

12

Hayden

The sun was up by the time I woke.

The bed was also empty.

And my forehead itched.

I reached up to scratch it and knocked something off, watching the piece of paper flutter to the bed.

Making pancakes @ 10:30am. Didn’t want to wake you. You look great naked in the morning.

I fished my phone out of my pocket to discover that it’d just gone ten-fifteen.

My stomach growled at the thought of pancakes. Would Wes mind if I borrowed his shower? Surely