to join me. Exciting, I know. But after, we could get something to eat?
He couldn’t type back fast enough. I’d love to come. And yes, let’s get dinner after. Where do you want to go?
Shrug emoji. What do you like?
Everything.
LOL. Let me think. There are a few places off campus you might like. Anything you can’t eat?
Nope. Tho, we never did try escargots in Paris…
Next time.
His heart skipped about ten beats, and Wes bit his lip as he beamed. Next time. Next time they were in Paris together. Because they would go back, of course they would. Deal.
Okay, where are we meeting? Do you need to go home?
No, I’m ready. Pick you up?
Sure. Want me to wait on 29th?
The street around the corner from theirs. Off Opal, away from his teammates and anyone else who might start asking questions. Wes sighed. Reality slammed back in, dimming the radiant glow he’d been basking in. That would probably be smart.
Justin texted again. I’m heading out.
Be there in a few. He shifted his truck into drive and stepped on the gas.
Justin was waiting for him, as promised, on Twenty-Ninth. He was sitting on the brick half wall surrounding one of the side yards of an old gingerbread Victorian. Willow and myrtle branches hung over half of the street, shading the concrete and the line of parked cars. It was still Texas hot, and Justin was dressed in a pair of nylon running shorts and a tight T-shirt that showed off every curve and line of his muscled upper body.
Wes’s brakes squeaked as he stopped. He reached across the bench and shoved open the door, grinning as Justin hopped into the cab. “Hey.”
“Hey yourself.”
He was suddenly shy. Less than twelve hours earlier, he’d been baring his soul and revealing his fears to Justin, ones he hadn’t even fully figured out for himself until he was confessing them in hushed whispers against Justin’s neck. Now, his tongue seemed to tie itself in a bow.
“How was practice? Did your coach get mad?”
“He made me run. I didn’t care.” Wes turned off Twenty-Ninth and headed toward campus. The bookstore was on the far side, near the student center and a block of bars and restaurants. “I did have to stay after to finalize the roster and the starting lineup.”
“Did you make the team?”
“I did.” Wes smiled. Slid his hand across the seat and laced his fingers with Justin’s. “How was your morning?”
Justin sighed. “Well, I won’t be dancing with Rafael anymore.”
Wes stiffened, but he said nothing. His eyes darted from the streetlight to Justin.
“He’s pissed, and I understand why. I’d be pissed, too. I couldn’t give him a good answer to why I up and ditched him, so he just kept getting more and more frustrated with me.”
“I’m… of two minds,” Wes said carefully, turning into the garage behind the campus bookstore. “You and he danced real well together. Even I could see you were great partners, and I don’t know anything about dance. Without you there to translate, it was a lot of noise and movement to me.” He pulled into a space, killed the engine. “Except when you were dancing. Then it made sense. But…” Wes scratched at his forehead. Squinted. “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little bit glad he won’t be all over you anymore.”
Justin’s gaze sharpened. His eyes gleamed. “Jealous?”
“I’d like to be the only guy touching you, yeah.” He squeezed Justin’s hand, then let go. “There’s no one else for me. I know I have no right to ask the same of you, but I’d like to be the only man in your arms. And in your heart.”
Justin chased him across the bench, looking left and right outside of the truck before he grabbed Wes and pulled him close. “I told you before, cowboy. I don’t want anyone else.”
“Not even sexy dancers like Rafael?”
“You think Rafael is sexy?” Justin’s eyebrows rose.
“Compared to you, he was as sexy as mud.” Wes kissed him, intending to keep it chaste, a quick brush of his lips against Justin’s, but one touch and he couldn’t pull back. He lingered, deepening the kiss, Justin melting into him, Wes’s hand sliding around Justin’s waist, drawing him closer—
Car tires squealed as someone took the turn around the garage ramp a little too quickly. Justin peeled out of his arms, sliding back across the bench seat as he wiped his lips. Wes closed his eyes, his hands grasping empty air. That was close. But what would