But I don’t care. I put on pants for him. I’m not sure what else he expects from me. It’s Saturday morning, after all. “I’ve actually only been really, really hungover twice in my life, but I learned both times, this helps. And there’s nothing wrong with having a good time, Travis.”
He doesn’t argue with me, his eyes moving around my kitchen and then back to my face. “Your place is nice.”
I grin. “Better than you expected?”
He smiles shyly. “I might have pictured a crazy mancave, like a frat house.”
I laugh. “Nah. I like to party but not in my house. This is my quiet place.” He raises an eyebrow at me, and I suddenly feel a little embarrassed by my admission. I know I’m loud and love to have fun, but sometimes, I just need a quiet place to chill.
“Well, it’s nice,” he says kindly.
“Yeah, it could use a little fixing up, here and there, but I don’t mind doing that.”
He takes another small bite and a drink of water. “Isn’t it a rental?”
I nod, standing up and moving to the sink with my plate. “Yeah, but the old man who I rent from knocks some money off the rent when I repair stuff. He definitely doesn’t mind, and it’s fun for me.”
I sit back down across from him and sip my coffee as he finishes his sandwich.
“You’re full of surprises, Oakley.”
“Aren’t we all?” I respond with a smile, and my heart does this weird flutter thing when he smiles back at me.
He should keep doing that.
I really like it when he does that.
TEN
TRAVIS
“Why are you here?” But unfortunately, I’m not angry when I see Oakley at my front door. More amused.
“I’m bored.”
I can’t help but laugh and then sigh as I open the door for him as he walks into my studio apartment. I close the door behind him and watch as he looks around at the small space.
“Nice place.”
It’s not, but I appreciate him being kind. I sit down on my couch, and I’m not surprised when he flops his big body down next to me. He’s definitely showered since getting off work a few hours ago. His jeans are clean, and he’s wearing a crisp, black Chris Stapleton t-shirt, which is stretched across his broad chest.
A chest I was draped across last weekend. Waking up in Oakley’s bed should have been weird as fuck. But it wasn’t, despite the painfully hard morning wood and my balls practically aching with the need to come by the time I got back to my place.
I’ve never been so desperate to jerk off before in my life. And yeah, it felt totally gross as I jerked to the image of Oakley—his bedhead only serving to make him hotter as he stood there in nothing but his briefs. It can’t happen again—not ever. But it did happen, and I can’t take it back.
He’s also been more tolerable at work this week. Although, that might be because of the epic orgasm and maybe a little bit of guilt talking.
“Why are you bored on a weekday?”
“I don’t just like to hang out on weekends, Travis. I have no rules.”
Maybe that’s why I’m starting to like him. He doesn’t have a long list of rules. He’s laid-back and easygoing in a way I’ve never allowed myself to be. So yeah, I kind of like him. I mean, just a little. Not a lot or anything. “Right. What about your neighbors?”
He waves that off, making himself comfortable on my couch, leaning back and stretching out his long legs. “Bates and Dixon?” He shakes his head. “They’re probably fucking, and apparently, they don’t like when I barge in on that. Whatever.”
I laugh at his casual tone and then get slightly irritated with myself for being so amused. “Well, it is polite to knock.”
He leans his head back into my couch, looking at the ceiling. “It just reminds me I’m not getting any. Fuck, I’m horny.”
“What?” I sputter at his way-too-honest confession, my eyes sliding in his direction.
He gives me a mischievous stare, cocking his head to the side as he lifts it to look at me head-on. “You heard me. I’m fucking horny. It’s been too long.”
“Yeah well.” An uncomfortably hot feeling comes over me. “You came to the wrong place. I can’t help you with that.”
He sits up straighter, turning his body to look at me excitedly. “Actually, I think you could. Maybe.”
“What?” I ask again, this time firmer.
“I mean, I’m hot, right? And I’m here.” He acts like this is a brand-new idea that’s suddenly dawned on him. “It makes total sense. And you have to be horny, right? Keeping your cutie on the hook but not visiting him.”
I shake my head slowly, slower than I’m proud of because yeah, truth be told, I’m definitely horny. But this is the most ridiculous conversation we’ve ever had. And we’ve had plenty. “Just because I’m gay, doesn’t mean I want to have sex with every man I meet, Oakley.”
“Duh.” He rolls his eyes at me like I’m the ridiculous one. “But I mean”—he waves his hand over his body—“I’m hot. Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about it.”
I’ve thought about it way too much since waking up in bed with him the other morning. But that’s not all that crazy. It’s a purely physical response for me. But he’s not gay, so this conversation is just odd.
Beyond weird.
“Come on, man. Aren’t you the least bit attracted to me?”
“No,” I answer quickly, and I swear his entire face drops. “Oakley, you’re not gay.” I feel like I need to remind him of that.
His big shoulder just shrugs up and then down. “So?”
“So?” I turn my body now so I’m facing him more directly. “So? That’s a big deal.”
He actually shrugs again. “Come on, Travis. You don’t think I’m even a little hot?” He flexes his bicep, and goddammit, I actually watch him do it. My mouth waters at the thought of licking over every protruding vein in his hard, defined muscle. “I mean that Ryan guy doesn’t look like he could even bench press an iPhone.”
I frown at his mention of Ryan, who I’m pretty sure is becoming annoyed that I’m not willing to meet up yet. But I just can’t. I need to at least be enrolled in some courses first. “I don’t need him to bench press anything.”
I huff and turn away from Oakley, settling into the couch and hoping he’ll jump to the next topic. It’s pretty typical of him to do that, but no such luck.
“Look, I think it’s messed up, growing up in Kensley, that you didn’t get any gay sex experience.”
I groan and turn to look at him. “How do you even know that?”
“I’m guessing. I mean, you’re wound tight, Trav. No way you’d be so wound up if you were getting laid.” He turns to look straight ahead too, but his big arm brushes mine, and then he nudges me. “I mean, did you get any experience at all?”
I’m not having this conversation with Oakley.
The one fucked-up kiss with Jameson runs through my mind, when Garrison caught us going at it in the woods for anyone to see. It wasn’t really about attraction. I mean, yeah, Jameson is good-looking, but it was like kissing my brother.