A Guy for Christmas - K.C. Wells Page 0,33

reply. Home now. In my room.

Seconds later, Ryan was on FaceTime. “Where have you been?”

Robin ignored the question. “Why didn’t you tell me how fucking awesome it is when someone sucks your dick?”

Ryan stared at him blankly for a moment, before collapsing into laughter. When he was done, he wiped his eyes. “Congrats, bro. I’ll say this for you. You’re fast. It’s only been—” He counted on his fingers. “Ten days since I came up with my brilliant plan.”

Robin snorted. “For the record? He saw through your brilliant plan instantly.” He had to smile, however. “He said I was fast too.”

Ryan rolled onto his back, his head propped up on a pillow, his phone on his chest. “So? What’s he like?”

“He’s great.” Robin knew he was wearing a stupid grin but he didn’t give a fuck. “He’s funny. And he’s considerate too. He really cares.” He loved how Dean had made sure Robin wanted it before he’d made a move.

Ryan went quiet.

Robin frowned. “What?”

“Well, what I meant was, what’s he like at sucking dick? I wasn’t expecting the lowdown on what kind of guy he is.” He stared intently at Robin. “This isn’t some quick lay, is it? He’s not some random guy you’ve gotten to pop your cherry.”

Robin knew in his heart Dean was never going to be that. He was already so much more. He was… special.

“You said he’s a ski instructor?”

Robin’s heartbeat quickened. He had to tell someone before he exploded, and he knew Ryan would keep his secret. “Kind of. It’s not what he does for a living.”

Ryan rolled onto his side, his head propped up in his hand. “Dude? Who is he? And why all the mystery?”

Robin took a deep breath. “You have to promise. You can’t breathe a word of this to Mom or Dad.”

Ryan’s expression changed immediately. “You got it.”

“The thing is…” His heart hammered and his chest grew tight. “It’s Dean Quentin.” No way was he gonna call him Mr. Quentin, not after what they’d done together.

Ryan’s eyes were like saucers. “Dean Quen—my drama teacher?” His jaw dropped.

Robin nodded. “Now you know why you’ve gotta keep it a secret.”

Then Ryan broke into a huge grin. “Mr. Quentin blew you? Way to fucking go, bro. Kudos to you for having the nerve to ask him.”

“Still can’t believe I did that.” He was reeling from the fact that Dean had said yes.

Ryan’s brow creased. “But the way you were talking about him just now…”

Robin knew what was coming and waited.

“This is sounding serious. Like, you have feelings for the guy.”

“So what if I do?” Robin stuck his chin out.

Ryan sighed. “God, you’re so like Mom.”

“What does that mean?”

“You’re a romantic little soul, aren’t ya? Well, do yourself a favor and don’t go falling for him.”

Robin’s stomach clenched. “I’m not stupid, okay?” Except he was that stupid, he really was.

“Look, just because he’s your first doesn’t mean you’re gonna fall in love and ride off into the sunset together. Life isn’t like that. I’m as dumb as a bag of rocks, and even I know that.” His frown deepened. “I’m worried about you.”

“Well, don’t be. I know what I’m doing.” Yeah, right.

Ryan’s eyebrows went high, and Robin could almost hear his own unspoken words repeated inside Ryan’s head. Then Ryan sighed again. “Mr. Quentin is a cool guy though. You’ve got good taste, I’ll say that for you.” He grinned. “Tell me you’re not gonna stop at a blowjob. Tell me the gorgeous Mr. Q has plans for that ass of yours.”

“I’ll tell you the same I told you last time you asked such a question—what makes you think I’m gonna discuss this with you? You’ve had all the info you’re getting, and that’s only because I had to tell someone before I burst.”

Ryan snorted. “Gee thanks. Really feeling the love here.” Then all trace of humor left his features. “I’m not gonna say it again, bro. You know.”

Yeah, Robin knew. For all their squabbles and sass and snark, their connection was strong. And while Ryan might be an asshole on occasions, he would always be Robin’s twin, and Robin would always love him.

“Now get off the phone.” Ryan’s eyes glittered. “Because now you have new stuff to add to your spank bank, so you don’t wanna be wasting precious time talking to me. Go let your hand do the talking.” And with that, he disconnected.

For once, Robin was in complete agreement, and he aimed to do exactly that—once he’d locked his door.

Dean sat in