only the requirement of church attendance that convinced me to leave Jazz’s bedroom and venture out into the real world. I felt lucid, hyper-aware of everything around me—like I’d been living with my senses dulled, and now suddenly everything was in vivid color.
I’d had a storied sexual history, to say the least. I’d fucked more women than I could remember, across ages and body types, occupations and temperaments. I’d had sex in beds, cars, floors, bathrooms, quickies, and marathon sessions, passionate, angry, slow. I’d thought I’d experienced everything I could get out of sleeping with someone.
But I’d never felt what I’d felt with Jazz. It was so different from encounters I’d had in the past that it was barely recognizable as sex. It was so much more. It wasn’t the fact that Jazz was a man, though. I knew in my gut it wouldn’t feel like this if I’d just picked up a guy the way I used to pick up women.
It was different with Jazz because it was Jazz. Even if I still wasn’t sure what the details of that meant.
Jazz sat on the edge of the bed in jeans and a t-shirt, a towel still flopped over his damp hair. He thumbed through his phone. “Shit, we gotta hurry. Church is starting, like, now.”
Sharing space with Jazz like this was so easy. It was comfortable, like it’d always been, but looking back, I could see the careful distance we’d kept from each other. Like there’d been a pane of glass placed so we couldn’t get too close. And now that it was gone, my hands itched to touch him again and again and again. Making up for lost time.
I tugged my shirt on and then stepped closer to stand in between his knees. “They won’t start without you. You’re basically the reason for the meeting.”
“I still don’t want to be late.” He tilted his head up to scowl at me and the towel slid off his head and onto the bed.
He was cute.
I raked my fingers through his damp hair and his eyes flickered closed at the touch. It felt right—natural—to touch Jazz like this. Even if I didn’t fully understand what it meant for us going forward, he was still my best friend. That foundation of love was there and would never change.
Whatever this new desire was, I wasn’t going to run from it. Having him at my side was enough.
“Let’s go then.” I slid my hand to his nape and squeezed once, encouragingly, and Jazz let his head tip forward with a huffed sigh. I laughed. “You used to hate this.”
“Not really,” Jazz admitted. “Always kind of liked it.”
I kneaded the tense muscle at the back of his neck for a long moment. Then Jazz seemed to remember we had somewhere to go, and swatted my hand away. “This is why I stopped you,” he groused. “It’s distracting.”
I went to open the door.
“Wait,” Jazz said. He tossed my jacket at me.
“We’re not leaving?” I asked, confused.
“There’s, uh.” He tugged the neckline of my shirt over just a little.
Yeah. A pretty visible hickey. I felt my cheeks grow a little pink. “What?” I asked. “You don’t want anyone else to see it?”
Jazz paused. “Do you?”
“Honestly, not really,” I said as I tugged my jacket on. Something like disappointment flickered over Jazz’s face. “Because I don’t want them to tease us too hard,” I clarified. “I’m not—I don’t want to hide anything.”
Jazz looked a little surprised, but not like he doubted me. He just nodded and followed me downstairs.
The inner circle was gathered around the kitchen island with beers and coffee. Everyone’s eyes fell on us as we stepped out of the stairwell and into the room, like were a high school couple descending to leave for prom. I slid my hand across Jazz’s lower back, a possessive touch, keeping him close to my side.
The room was silent save for the gurgling of the coffeemaker.
“What?” I asked. “Something to say?”
Jazz shifted, like he was considering pulling away, and I slid my hand to his hip and tightened my hold.
“Yes!” Raven stood up from the island with both hands in the air triumphantly. “I win! Pony up!”
Gunnar, Siren, and Logan fished out their wallets. Siren crumpled a bill into a ball and chucked it at Raven’s head.
“I was only a few days off,” Logan whined.
“First place loser,” Raven said gleefully as he tucked the money into his wallet. “He thought they would’ve sorted everything out two weeks ago.”
“You were