I give my boss a shy smile. “Thanks, Saint.”
“Sorry,” Tate says, rubbing my leg and the other guys join in with apologies.
When Jude returns, he flops down on the couch, grabs me around the waist and pulls me down to kiss on my neck. The gesture shocks me, but not as much as my hardening cock does. He takes the shot glass I’m still holding and drags his tongue inside of it before flicking his tongue across my lips. His eyes shift to a shocked Tate with a look that says, ‘how you like me now.’
“Yep, you guys are gonna be fine,” Tate murmurs.
The rest of the night is a wild ride. We dance, drink more shots than should be allowed, and Jude lays on the affection, holding my hand, keeping me on his lap, rubbing my back. More than once, he brushes his lips on some part of me—my hand, my neck, my cheek. If I knew it wasn’t a game, I would be elated. What’s really clear: don’t challenge Jude Mancuso to shit. He will always win.
Stumbling into the apartment, we both make it to the kitchen for some much-needed water. Jude takes two bottles from the fridge and hands me one while I grab the ibuprofen from the cabinet. We each take two and guzzle the water.
“Man, have I been missing out,” Jude says, shaking his head as he leans on the island.
“In what way?”
“Hanging out with you and your friends. Wait.” He sways or maybe that’s me. “You were missing out too. They’re fun.”
I laugh softly. “Yeah, they are.”
“You’re fun too.”
“So are you.”
He exhales slowly, a dreamy drunk look on his face. “I guess we should go to bed.”
“Yeah.”
Jude straightens, then moves until he’s pressed against me. He’s so close it’s hard to meet his eyes. “You’re fun to kiss too, Bri.” He presses his lips to mine one more time, lingering as he gently sucks my bottom lip, his arms on either side of me as he grips the counter’s edge. “Night.”
“Night,” I murmur as Jude leaves me.
It’s a game, I tell myself. He’s drunk. I squeeze my eyes shut. Fuck. I’m drunk too. I make my way to my bedroom, strip down, and fall into bed.
Drunk or not, that kiss was fire.
Jude
When I open my eyes I immediately groan. Oh yeah. This is why I don’t party until two in the morning, doing shots like I’m twenty-five again. I rub my forehead. Ouch. Forcing myself out of bed takes about ten minutes and only happens because my bladder is being a dick. I pad across the hall realizing that Briar is in the shower. I can’t hold it any longer, so I step inside carefully, making sure he’s safely behind the curtain. He takes long showers so it’s not the first time I’ve snuck in to take a quick pee while he showers. I throw my head back, stretching as the pressure leaves my body. I need to eat something spicy and greasy stat. I wonder if we can do brunch. I’m starting to really enjoy this new tradition.
As I’m emptying out, my thoughts shift back to last night. I kissed Briar. Really kissed him. I just wish I remember what it felt like. The water shuts off and the curtain pulls open so fast I can’t react. My head turns toward Briar, his body soaking wet and naked and then it hits me I’m naked too. Instead of panicking like I thought he would, he calmly grabs the towel from the bar and wraps it around himself. That’s my cue to grab the washcloth on the sink and cover my junk. I flush the toilet, smiling sheepishly.
“Sorry. I couldn’t wait.”
“Surprised it hasn’t happened sooner.” He shrugs with a smile. “No biggie. It’s not like you’ve never seen a dick before.”
“Right.” It’s just that I’ve never seen his, and it looked…kind of nice. “You’re bigger than I expected.” My eyes widen. “Did I just fucking say that out loud?”
Briar laughs, stepping out of the tub. “You did indeed say that out loud. And thanks, I guess. You thought I wasn’t packing anything?”
“I have no idea what I thought.” Or why I was thinking about his dick at all. “Um, anyway, if you’re done, I’ll take the shower now.”
“By all means. Just gonna brush my teeth.”
“Cool.” I look around the steamy bathroom. “I guess I could come back in a minute.”
“Or you could just get in the shower, Jude. It’s not like I haven’t seen a dick before.”
I laugh, but it comes out sounding about as nervous as I feel. “Yeah, it’s nothing. We’re friends. We can be naked in front of each other.”
“We are naked.”
“Yeah.”
I brush past him, clinging to the washcloth covering my dick with all my will, afraid it will fall off and Briar will notice I’m feeling some kind of way about him right now. Since when am I attracted to men? Not men. Briar. How the fuck did this happen?
I turn the shower back on while Briar spreads toothpaste on his brush. The bathroom isn’t big enough to give each other too much space, so after I notice Briar brushes his teeth about as fast as he showers, I drop the cloth and step inside the tub.
Once I’m under the water, I close my eyes letting it wash over me, replaying last night and this morning. I kissed Briar a bunch of times. At least five or six times. I didn’t hate it. In fact, I’m pretty sure I liked it since I kept going back for more. He’s easy to kiss. He’s nice to kiss. He smells good and feels good in my arms. I told myself it was to lend authenticity, but that doesn’t mean I can’t like it. I mean, I should like it. Briar’s great, and he’s my best friend. Just because he’s a guy doesn’t mean anything. Right?
As I wash shampoo out of my hair, I think one thing I shouldn’t do a lot more of is kiss him though. At least not on the mouth. That felt too…good. Kissing is so intimate it would be easy to blur lines. We can hold hands and hug, but no mouth kissing. Not until the wedding just to show up that piece of shit ex of his. I nod, convincing myself of my plan.
When a swoosh of cold air hits me I realize Briar left and just as quickly wish he hadn’t. I’m not sure what’s going on with me, but I need to put a little distance between me and Briar. Physically. There’s too much at stake here for me to give into this newfound curiosity. And I know me. I suck at boundaries and relationships in general. Briar is too important to me to fuck it up because I’m suddenly interested in what guys do together in bed.
After my shower, I throw on my shorts and walk out to the living room to find Briar curled up on the couch watching a baking show. It’s adorable how much he gets into these shows. I sit on the other end of the couch and lift his legs to put them across my lap. He smiles but keeps his eyes on the TV.
“What time is it?” I ask.
“Ten-ish.”
“Want to go out and get some food? We could brunch or wait a little bit and do lunch.”
He shifts so he’s facing me. “You want to go out?”
“Yeah.” I massage his foot. “You’ve made me get used to this brunch stuff after a night out.”
“I could call the guys and see what they have planned.”
“I don’t want to go out with the guys. I want to go eat with you.”