door shuts behind Leo. I roll my eyes and spread out more now that there’s extra space on the couch.
“I’m starting to think you’d peg anyone as being into me.”
“Only people who are into you,” he argues.
“Whatever,” I laugh. “Did you say something about making out by the way? Because I happen to notice we’re all alone here in my apartment.”
“So we are,” he agrees with a grin, tightening his arm around my shoulder and pulling me toward him.
The cool metal of his lip ring bites into my skin, the perfect contrast to the heat of his mouth as it claims mine. His lips taste like sugar and chocolate as they press firmly against mine, coaxing them open so he can slip his tongue inside. My stomach flutters, and my body tingles from the simple touch, a spike of dizzy giddiness washing over me as I kiss him back.
Leo
I do my best to lose my thoughts in the noisy clang of the bicep machine as I bang out a punishing set. The last thing I was expecting was for Bishop to come home with some hot dude in the middle of the day.
I wonder what they’re doing now, at the apartment all alone…
I huff out an annoyed breath, finishing my set and standing up to stretch out my arms. I know what they’re doing, and I can’t blame either of them. Bishop is gorgeous, anyone would want him. Not to mention he’s sweet and funny, always thinking of others. My stomach clenches, and I make a beeline for the row of treadmills. Riot is hot as fuck too. I can see why Bishop would want to bone the guy.
Are they doing it on the couch? Are their bare bodies rolling around all sweaty and cum covered right where I’ll lay down to sleep later?
I curse my train of thought as my cock starts to fill, my loose gym shorts doing nothing to hide my arousal.
I hop on the first open treadmill and set the speed higher than I normally would, hoping the need for additional concentration will help to chase the distracting thoughts out of my head.
Was I crazy to come back to California? New York wasn’t for me, but that still leaves forty-eight other states I could’ve tried before running home, hoping my best friend would somehow make the world make sense again. All I thought about through high school was getting the hell out of here. I told myself there was a whole world out there for me to conquer, and I focused all my energy on making plans to do just that. But at the end of the day, with all of my checklists completed, all I felt was empty.
The scene is as clear as day in my mind, sitting in my apartment, looking out the window as the sky grew dark, feeling a hollow, gaping hole in my chest. I didn’t know what I needed until my phone rang, and Bishop’s face lit up the screen.
“You are never going to believe the day I had,” he said the second I answered.
“Tell me about it.”
He rambled on for the next several minutes, telling me about what a dickhead his boss was and how he should find a different career, and when he finally petered off, I was surprised to hear the words fall from my lips.
“I’m going to move home.”
Simply saying them had made me feel lighter than I’d felt in months, and the excitement that filled Bishop’s voice was all the encouragement I needed. In no time, I found a job out here, gave my notice, broke my lease… It all felt like the right thing to do at the time, but now I’m wondering if it was a case of temporary insanity.
I linger over my workout, not wanting to get back to the apartment too soon and interrupt anything. I know I need to start thinking about finding a place, but the thought holds no appeal. Maybe next week it will.
When I get back to the apartment a couple of hours later, I pause outside the door, straining my ears for sounds of things I might not want to walk in on, but it’s completely quiet.
I turn the doorknob cautiously, pushing the door open and stepping inside. I find Bishop alone on the couch, his eyes glued to the TV screen while Gordon Ramsay’s voice fills the living room.
“Hey,” he greets me with a smile. “How was the gym?”
“Good. Your boyfriend leave?”
“He’s not my boyfriend.