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ADAM
An hour later, as I head for the airport and my flight to Miami, I call Devon and listen to his lengthy apology for the stunt that his ex-boyfriend pulled earlier.
“I’m sorry it happened, but you know that I have a soft spot in my heart for Blake,” he says. “If anyone’s to blame for the little elevator fiasco, it’s Beau Hollister. That stupid knob doesn’t have a patient bone in his body.”
I laugh. “But isn’t that what he likes?” I tease. “Bones being put in his body.”
Devon makes an exaggerated choking sound on the other end. “Please don’t put that image in my head. Beau and I have been friends forever, and I do not want to think of him having sex.” He stops to issue a playful laugh. “On the other hand, I definitely want to hear all about your new boy. Was he as hot in bed as he looked?”
“I don’t want to kiss and tell,” I reply.
Devon snorts. “Since fucking when?”
“Since right this second,” I say. “I know that you may not believe this, but there was something magical about my time with Nick.”
He groans loudly. “Oh, holy fuck! Something magical? It’s called hot sex, Adam. It’s called much-needed relief. After being out of circulation for the past few months, you go all gooey over the first sweet young thing that gives you a second glance?”
My pulse quickens at the accusation. Few people in my life challenge or question my motives and intentions. For some reason, Devon has always assumed that he can toss allegations at me with complete disregard for how they might resonate on my end.
“I resent that,” I say. “I felt something different when I was with him.”
“Oh, sure,” Devon replies. “You can feign all the resentment you’d like, but you know that I’m right, Adam. You also know that you can’t get away with that game. Not after everything that we’ve been through together.”
“I’m not trying to get away with anything,” I tell him. “I simply want to keep this one under wraps while I…”
While I what? Figure out how I feel? Until I see him for a second time? Until my cock is once again buried deep in his—
Devon’s voice interrupts the rush of frenetic thoughts about Nick.
“Well?” he snaps. “Are you?”
“Am I what?”
He groans. “I didn’t think you were listening! I asked if you were planning to see him again.”
I laugh. “That’s a great question. And another reason that I don’t want to talk about him too much. I left my business card and a note for Nick, but completely forgot to get his number.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?”
“Afraid not,” I reply. “Between the amazing night and the rush to leave for my trip, it somehow slipped my mind.”
“You’re a piece of work, Adam. You finally meet a boy that you like, but then you allegedly forget to ask for his number. Are you trying to sabotage another potential relationship?”
“Would you fucking drop that routine,” I say as sharply as possible. “You’re not my shrink.”
“But I am your friend,” Devon replies after a long silence.
“I know that, buddy. And I’m grateful for that fact every day of the week.”
He heaves a sigh. “But?”
“But I don’t need a babysitter.”
Devon snickers. “True. You need a fucking heart surgeon to go in and see if that particular piece of equipment was somehow eviscerated by that self-centered asshole.”
“Which one?” I ask with a weary laugh. “There have been so many over the years.”
“You little shit,” he says. “I’m talking about Brent. Unless there’s an even more recent ex-boyfriend that I haven’t heard about.”
I know that Devon’s concern is genuine. He’s been my friend longer than anyone that I know. And although he can be the biggest pain in the ass, he’s also helped me navigate some dicey periods in the past: the death of my parents; the time my business almost went under when the accountant embezzled nearly a million bucks; and, my youngest brother’s suicide. But the boyfriend stuff I can handle on my own.
“I’ll tell you what,” I say. “I appreciate you inviting me tonight, but I can manage that part of my life on my own.”
He snorts a laugh into the phone. “Since when?”
“Since right now,” I say. “And I love you like a brother, okay. I truly appreciate you looking out for me.”
“Alright,” he says. “But I feel obligated to make the offer one more time. Do you want me to get Nick’s number before he leaves?”
“Is he really still there? I thought he was only being polite when he agreed to stay and enjoy the suite.”
Devon’s laugh is high and bright. “You wore out the poor boy, Mr. Fuck Machine. The last time I walked by that suite, the Do Not Disturb sign was still on the doorknob.”
“Maybe he forgot to remove it,” I say.
“No,” Devon says. “He’s still here. I let myself into the room a half hour ago just to make sure everything was okay. Your beautiful boy was fast asleep. He looked even more scrumptious than I remembered from earlier in the evening.”
I feel my cheeks growing warm. “Don’t you fucking touch him,” I warn my friend. “He’s too good for a strumpet like you, Devon.”
“Well, isn’t that rich? If I’m a strumpet, honey, what does that make you?”
“I’ve changed,” I say, wondering if it’s true. “I don’t want to sleep with every boy that comes into my line of sight. I did that after my last breakup.”
“Yes, you did,” Devon comments. “And what did it get you? I mean, besides a lot of sleepless nights and some truly kinky sex.”
“It’s how I met Brent,” I answer. “And I seem to recall that you met Blake during that same period.”
“True enough,” Devon says. “So maybe this is our second time, huh? We both met someone new tonight. Now we just have to see if there’s anything substantial beneath all the humping and grunting and being balls deep in a tight, hot hole.”
I laugh. “You’re so poetic, Dev. Like the voice of an angel reciting the words of Shakespeare.”
“Or like an angel taking it up the—”
“Alrighty then!” I say quickly. “Looks like traffic’s lighter than expected. My car is arriving at Teterboro ahead of schedule.”
“When are you back in town?” he asks.
“It’s a short trip,” I reply. “If things go well, I should be home tomorrow. If not, it might be Tuesday or Wednesday. This client is either exceptionally fast with her decisions or she needs an inordinate amount of handholding.”
“So you and she are perfectly matched,” Devon says with a snarky giggle.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
He laughs again. “Don’t worry about it. Let me know how it goes with the new boy when you’re back in town.”
“I don’t know about that,” I say.
“Excuse me?” Devon scoffs. “What was that text you sent earlier? Didn’t you say it was the best fun you’ve ever had in bed?”
“It was,” I tell him. “But I’m not expecting anything more than just one night of bliss. I mean, how often do we meet someone and it’s better than perfect?”