I slid in behind him and slung my arm around him. He tucked that seat that had been milking me not five minutes earlier tight against my cock.
“You’re definitely a shower, not a grower,” he said playfully, wiggling his ass again.
My dick perked at the maneuver. “Shut the hell up, you naughty bottom.” I slapped his ass so hard the sound reverberated throughout the room.
He rolled toward me, all smiles now, a far cry from all those tears earlier.
“This isn’t how spooning works,” I told him.
“Whatever.”
“You feeling better?”
“Yeah. I’ll be fine. Doug was an asshole anyway.” He wiped at his face as though searching for one of the many tears that had been on it before I’d done such a diligent job of satisfying my buddy.
“I told you he was an asshole. I just didn’t know he was the keeps-other-guys-bound-to-agreements-he-can’t-follow-himself kind.”
“I can’t believe I didn’t figure out that Barbara was a decoy name in his phone.”
“Hey, none of that. It’s not shitty that you wanted to trust someone. It makes you a good person.”
“Or a sucker.”
“You’re good at that too, but that just makes you even better relationship material, doesn’t it?”
Each laugh since his initial tear-fest assured me he’d pull through this, like he always did.
“Thanks, but it’s not going to help me when I have to see Barbara at school.”
“Just remember that Jon likely doesn’t know any more than you. You guys aren’t the assholes. Doug is. And what a name for one, right?”
“What would I do without you, Scowl?” he said, calling me by the nickname he and Taryn had given me.
“You’d probably still be weeping over that moron and eating a gallon of ice cream by yourself. Speaking of which, I was lured over here with the promise of a few scoops.”
“I gave you plenty of cream. Not my fault you didn’t eat it.”
“Ooh, look at you, being all in a mood. What’s new? Ice cream. Now,” I ordered.
“Yes, sir.” I’d never seen him move as quickly in his life as he got up and practically skipped to the fridge.
I hopped up and joined him, checking the window of his back door. “You sure none of your neighbors are going to see us?”
“If they do, maybe word will get back to Doug and he’ll think I’m this amazing player.” He opened the cabinet, fished out bowls, and set them on the counter with the ice cream. “Especially being with the school bad boy.”
“I’m not the school bad boy. That’s more Wes Kenmore’s thing.”
“Kyle, you are so oblivious. You’re all mystery and confidence. No one, especially a bunch of high school kids, knows what the hell to do with that.”
“I think we both know it has to do with a little more than that.”
He lowered his gaze. We both knew damn well how I’d earned my reputation. And why it was so fucking unjust.
It wasn’t just that, though. I didn’t help matters by not giving a shit about school or making friends, unless they happened to be as cool and bottomy as Ben. Then again, Ben was the only guy who fit that description.
He made two bowls of Moose Tracks with extra peanuts, brownie bites, whipped cream, and a couple of squirts of chocolate-fudge syrup. We settled back on the sofa, and he sat in my lap as we ate our post-fuck dessert.
“I saw that teacher you mentioned, by the way.”
“Mr. Warner?”
“You mean James?” he said, referring to our jokes about the incident that happened on the first day of class. “He’s hot as fuck. I would let him plow the shit out of me.”
“I think we both know you don’t have too high standards for who you let do that.”
“Big standards more than high standards,” he teased. “And that bulge in his pants… Must be nice to look at in class. Don’t act like you haven’t noticed.” He glanced at me, clearly awaiting an admission.
“What? You expecting me to deny it? I wonder if he realizes how big it looks in those khakis he wears, or if he can even do anything about it.”
“I don’t think there’s really a way to hide that kind of dong, unless he wants to sneak it between his legs.”
“Not exactly something a teacher needs to be strutting around with, on top of that pretty face.” Fuck. That had spit right out of my mouth.