Harrison rolled his eyes. “Wanna race?”
I stopped, cocked my head at him. “Are you serious?”
“Yes.”
“Why would I do that?”
“So I can prove how badass I am?” He waggled his brows. “I don’t know. I have no idea why I said that. You seem a little down, though. If you win, I’m sure it will lift your spirits, and if I do…well, I have bragging rights, youngster.”
He was…so different, so surprising. I’d never known anyone like Harrison before, and honestly, I couldn’t figure out what to say to him. He’d asked me to race him…and he could tell something was off with me. Harrison noticed things no one else did, and it both put me on edge and made me feel seen. Still not sure how to respond, I went for playful. “Um, first, never call someone that if you’ve had your dick inside them. And second, there’s no possibility you’re winning.”
“You mention having sex with me a lot, and…” He stepped closer, all the way in my space. I could smell the slight tinge of sweat on him. The urge to bury my face in his neck and lick it nearly lured me to him, but I forced myself not to. “Prove it.”
“You bring it up more than I do, and are you sure you’re forty-one? You don’t act it.”
“Is there a rule that says I have to act a specific way? And stall longer, why don’t you? If you’re scared of losing, it’s okay to say so.”
“Oh my God. Whatever. You’re ridiculous. Come on so I can shut you up, old man.”
I walked through the grass, Harrison laughing as he followed me. I liked the deep sound of his pleasure, liked that he seemed to enjoy being with me. Inspiring this response in him was like a reward, a gift.
When I found a good spot, I stopped and pointed to a tree. “We go to there.”
“Okay.” He rubbed his hands together, then lifted one leg behind him like he was stretching, before doing the other, in this overly dramatic way.
“You’re such a dork.”
“Stop messing with my flow.”
“Your flow?”
“Are we doing this or not?” Harrison asked.
We so were. “I’m gonna kick your ass.”
“Yes, I’m sure you believe you will. Get on your mark.”
We got into position. “Get set,” I added.
“Go!” Harrison shouted, and we both took off.
For a moment I’d worried he would stand in place and watch me run, but I also wasn’t taking any chance at losing. I pushed my legs quickly, pumped them as fast as I could. We were neck and neck, goddamn him. Harrison was in good shape, which I’d known, but he was proving it again now.
I pushed harder, begging for more out of my body, before I pulled slightly ahead of him, passed the tree first, and whooped. “Hell yeah—umpf.” Harrison’s body stumbled into mine, knocking me off-balance and making me go down. I took him with me, my back hitting the grass, him right on top of me. “Ouch. Fuck, that hurt.”
“Shit. I’m sorry. I haven’t run that fast in a long time, and I don’t know why I couldn’t stop. Are you okay?”
My legs were open. I only realized it because I felt how he was tucked between them. Harrison’s groin against mine, our bodies chest to chest, him looking down at me. A bead of sweat rolled along his temple. His breath smelled like coffee and cinnamon toothpaste. He was solid weight, muscle and bone, covered in warm skin that was soft to the touch because… Oh. Why was I brushing my thumb over his forearm?
“Yesss,” I finally replied. Did that sound breathless? It did, but I could blame it on the run.
“Yes what?” he asked.
“Yes, I’m okay. You already forgot? Damn, don’t be too concerned.”
His laughter vibrated through his chest and into mine. My dick took notice of the very sexy man pressing against it, blood rushing to my groin. Jesus, I wanted him, so fucking much. But he was right before. I liked this too…being friends with Harrison. We’d somehow become exactly that.
When I felt him begin to harden against me, I had to bite back my moan. “Your dick is trying to play with mine, and you’re still not showing me much concern.”
His pupils were wide, his stare intense, but then Harrison rolled off me, making part of me wish I hadn’t said anything so I could still feel him. “I am concerned. I was just…distracted.”
“Dickstracted?” I joked, pretending I wasn’t as affected as he was.
“Clever,” he tossed back. “Sorry about that. My cock might still be struggling with the just-friends idea.” Harrison rolled to his side, propped himself up on his elbow, and looked down at me. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
Somehow, I knew he wasn’t just talking about the fall.
“Yes, Dad, I’m fine.” Though that didn’t fit because Harrison paid more attention to me than my own father ever had.
“I really need you to not call me that.”
“Good point.” I rolled away and sat up. “I’m fine. It’s just… I’m fine. I also won. Tackling me won’t make me forget that.”
Harrison got up beside me. “You cheated,” he teased, then, “We’ve been conveniently meeting here for weeks now. How about we plan on four days a week until the school year starts and then reevaluate?”
“It starts in three weeks.”
“Oh, wow.”
“Yeah. I can start going in next week, but it’s to plan my lessons and get my classroom organized.”
“Should we change the time?”
“It’ll work until the year begins. I don’t have set hours until then.”
We were quiet for a moment, and then Harrison nudged my arm with his. “You’re going to be great.”
He read my thoughts, knew my worries without me having to tell him. I tried to swallow down the ball of emotion in my throat.
I hoped he was right.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Harrison
I sat on a stool at Brew House, a local brewery where I often met up with my friend Warren. He was about my age and married to a lovely man he adored. The two of them had been together since college. Both were each other’s first relationship with a man, having met right after acknowledging their sexuality. As the younger generation would say, they were couple goals, and Christ, I couldn’t believe I’d actually thought the words younger generation. Especially as I seemed to be fond of spending time with a particular person who was seventeen years my junior.
“Hey, man. Sorry I’m late.” Warren slid in the seat beside me.
“No problem. There’s nothing I love more than waiting for you.” Warren and I had always liked to give each other shit.
“Someone is feeling mischievous today.” He held his hand up, and the bartender came over. We both ordered a beer.
“I’m always mischievous. How was your vacation?”
He rambled on about his trip to Hawaii with his husband, George, pulling out his phone to scroll through photos with me. I listened…mostly. I tried to, but my thoughts were with Zander, as they were so frequently lately. He was so incredibly nervous about the school year starting, and getting more and more anxious with each passing day. He tried to hide it. I wasn’t sure it was something that would be obvious to anyone else, but I paid attention to him. I had since the first night we met, and I’d learned his tells—how his ears pinkened and his gaze would dart away when he was unsure, and he fidgeted with his hands. How some days he was more active than others, like he was full of electrical currents that kept shooting through his body. That last one had happened more and more recently.