I barely recognized myself when I was around Scottie. There was something about him that brought out my protective streak. When I’d hit on him at the vet’s office, that had been purely about physical attraction. But since that day, my feelings toward him had become way more complicated. I still wanted him physically. Just the feel of his hard hip against mine and his arm around my waist had my cock perking with interest. But I wasn’t going to act on that. I’d promised him I’d behave, and I meant it.
My doorman Tom looked curious when I led Scottie past him. He nodded and said hello cheerfully like usual, but he must have noticed I was practically propping Scottie up. By the time we reached my apartment, Scottie seemed better. He was able to stand on his own without looking as white as a sheet of paper.
I pointed to the big tan couch and he headed in that direction, plopping down with a grunt. I put the food on the counter and grabbed two ice-cold beers from the fridge. I walked over and handed him one and went back to get napkins, utensils, and the food.
“Sorry about all the drama at the restaurant.” He held his beer between his thighs.
I handed him his Styrofoam container of food. “No problem. I doubt you planned it.”
He gave a stiff laugh. “No.”
We ate in silence for a few minutes. He started off just picking at his food, but soon he was chowing down as eagerly as me. I was pleased to see him eating, since he could use a little weight on his thin frame. He had me try his dish, and when we finished our beers I went and grabbed two more. He didn’t complain, just smiled and kept eating.
Eventually we both slowed down, and he groaned and set his mostly empty container on the coffee table. “I’m going to explode.” He patted his belly. “Those portions are way too big.”
I avoided letting my gaze linger too long on his lean body. The last thing I needed was to spook him all over again. “You were right. That was the best Italian food I’ve had in ages.”
“And it’s reasonably priced too.” He scanned my living room, taking in the enormous mahogany entertainment center and oil paintings on the walls. “Not that I get the feeling you care about that.”
“I’ve been lucky. I’m good at my job and I make nice money.” I shrugged. “And the tips are amazing.”
“Sure. Because you’re so charming.” His cheek curved in a smile.
“I am at work.”
He turned his head and gave me an appraising look. “You’re different than I thought.”
“So are you.” I toed off my shoes.
He sat up when he noticed me getting comfortable. “Maybe I should go and let you relax and enjoy your evening.”
I frowned. “I’m just taking my shoes off. That wasn’t a hint or anything. I don’t want you to go.”
His expression was wary and his posture stiff.
I couldn’t help it and I laughed. “I’m not going to pounce on you.” I shook my head.
“Why do you want me to stay?”
“Because I don’t want to sit here alone with my big-screen TV.”
He gnawed his lower lip as he watched me.
I sighed. “Stay. Take pity on me and take off your shoes.”
His shoulders relaxed and he grinned suddenly. “I’m taking pity on you by keeping my shoes on.”
His unwary smile made me breathless, and I was once again surprised by how his vulnerability moved me. I had the oddest desire to shelter him from the harshness of life. I knew that wasn’t my place, and he’d most likely kick me in the balls and run screaming if I articulated any of that. But those strange emotions rose in me whenever he showed an unguarded part of himself.
“What could it hurt to spend a little more time with each other?” I kept my tone casual.
He stared at his clasped hands. “I guess I’m still not sold on the idea of us forging a friendship.”
I sighed. “Why?”
“We run in very different circles.” He winced. “I don’t even have an actual circle.”
“Isn’t there anyone you hang out with?”
He seemed to think about my question. “Sometimes Dr. Hazelton invites me to parties at his home. Not just me, I mean the whole office. He’s married and he has a five-year-old son.”
“That’s nice. See, you have friends.”
“I mostly stand in the corner and people watch.” He twisted his lips. “Dr. Hazelton has a great relationship with his husband, Alex. They look so happy sometimes it makes me depressed.”
“Why?” I frowned.
“I don’t know really.” His voice was hushed. “Perhaps because it shoves home how truly distant I am from most people. I can’t imagine having the kind of relationship those two have.”
“You’re distant by choice.”
“Sure.”
“If you want those things you can have those things.” I spoke firmly. “How old are you?”
“Twenty-five.”
“You have plenty of time to figure out what you want.”
He lowered his chin like he sometimes did if he seemed self-conscious about his scar. “It doesn’t matter.”
I knew he wanted to drop the subject so I obliged. “Well, unless you have pressing plans, I’d like you to stay longer.”
He narrowed his gaze in that suspicious little way he had. “What would we do?”
“We could watch a movie. That’s perfectly harmless, right?”
He nodded. “I guess.”
“Then let’s do that. What could be safer than watching a movie together?”
“Going home.”
I grimaced. “Well, you’re not my prisoner. You do what you need to do.” Since when did I have to beg a guy to hang out with me? And I wasn’t even trying to get him into bed.
He watched me silently for a bit, and then he settled against the back of the couch, stretching out his lean body. “Okay. I’ll stay for a movie.”
“Yeah?”
He smiled timidly and put his hands behind his head. “I could go stare at weirdos on the subway, or I could enjoy a movie here with you. I’ll watch the movie with you.”
“I think that was a compliment.”
His lips twitched.
My eyes roamed over his flat stomach and muscled thighs, and I swallowed against the rush of lust that rose in me. He’s my friend. We’re pals. Stop ogling him. I got up and grabbed the remote, and I could feel his eyes on me. When I turned to face him, he looked away quickly. “Do you like drama? Or comedy?”
“I like anything.”
“You’re easy.” I flicked through the menus.
“You of all people know that’s not true.” He smirked.
Once I sat, I put my legs up on the couch and my feet were only about an inch from his thigh. “Yeah, you shot me down pretty good.”
He hesitated, and then he asked, “What would make you hit on a guy you barely know?”
I snorted. “Seriously?”
He frowned. “Yeah.”
“Haven’t you ever had a one-night stand?” That was hard to believe, especially in this day and age.
His cheeks were pink. “No.”
I bugged my eyes. “How is that even possible?”
He lifted his chin. “It’s possible.”
I could tell he was getting tense again so I decided to take the attention off him. “Well, I didn’t used to be a fan of the one-night stand either.” I cleared my throat. “But I had a rough breakup a couple of years ago, and I decided fucking guys without strings was the way to go. Now that I say that out loud, I can hear how stupid it is.”
He surprised me when he laughed and then took off his shoes. He moved to put his head on the opposite arm of the couch, and he stretched his legs out toward me, careful not to touch me. “Tell me more.”
I fake scowled. “No. It’s too embarrassing.” I liked that he was making himself more at home, but I was careful not to react in any way so he didn’t get self-conscious.
“You already told me the worst part.” His smile was coaxing. “Why would having a sucky boyfriend turn you into a sex machine?”
I grinned. “My logic might have been flawed.”
He watched me quietly, as different emotions flashed across his face. I felt like he wanted to tell me stuff, but something held him back. “You were hurt.” It wasn’t a question.
My face warmed. “Yeah. I was devastated.” His expression was so gentle, I didn’t really mind being open with him.
“Did he… did he cheat on you?”
I nodded. “Anything you can think of that makes a guy bad news, he did it.” I sighed and rubbed my eyes. “I was different then.”
“More trusting?”
“Yeah.”
Again he got that look on his face like he wanted to share but was afraid to. He clenched his jaw and looked to the ceiling. At that angle the line of his scar was very obvious. It ran from under his chin all along his jaw. My stomach hurt looking at it. He looked down and caught me staring. His face flushed red, and he slapped his hand to his jaw like he often did when he seemed to feel insecure.
I didn’t speak. I just held his surly gaze.
“Yeah, I know it’s ugly.” His voice was hard, and it trembled slightly. “Why are you always fucking staring at it?”
“I’m not staring.”
“Bullshit.” He curled his lip. “Everyone stares.”
I sat up and leaned toward him. “Do you want me to pretend you don’t have a scar? Wouldn’t that be even weirder?”
He looked taken aback. “What?”
I waved toward his chin. “It’s a big scar. It’s noticeable. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with noticing it.”
“Fuck you.”
I scowled. “Why?”
He opened his mouth, but nothing came out.
“So you have a scar. So fucking what?” I huffed. “You know, when I look at it I’m not thinking how disgusting it is. I’m thinking I wonder what happened. And if someone hurt you, I’d like to kick their ass. Okay?” I shook my head and lay flat again. “You’re too damn sensitive about it.”
I could literally feel his shock hanging in the air. He shifted impatiently, and I thought for a minute maybe he was going to get up and leave. But he didn’t. He sat in silence for a moment, and then he touched my leg.
I glanced up and his expression was soft and confused. “It doesn’t repulse you?”
I scowled. “No. Of course not.”
He exhaled a big puff of air. “I find it disgusting,” he growled. “And I can never escape it. I get tired of people gawking at me.”
“Scottie, if I had a scar on my face, you’d look too. It’s just how it is.” His hand was still on my leg, and it was getting hard to ignore how nice his touch felt. I was embarrassed because I could feel my cock swelling in my briefs and I didn’t want him to notice.
When he scooted closer, I was surprised but certainly not displeased. “You’re very blunt.”
“I don’t see why I shouldn’t be honest.” He stared at me in silence until I finally had to say something. “Are you mad at me?”
“No,” he whispered. He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. He moved his hand slowly from my calf to my knee, as he continued to watch me.
His touch felt so good, and I had to work hard not to show how much I liked his hand on me. Something told me he’d pull back if I showed that I enjoyed his touch. “I can’t tell what you’re thinking,” I said softly.
“I don’t even know what I’m thinking.” He slipped his palm over my knee to my thigh. “You have a nice body.” He tensed his jaw. “I noticed that the first time you came in the clinic.”
My heart began to bang in my chest. What was he doing? Was he flirting with me? I was afraid to do anything in case I scared him off, or misread what was happening. “Scottie, I don’t understand.”
He licked his lips. “Did you bring me here to have sex?”
I shook my head. “No. I told you I wouldn’t do anything.”
“People say all kinds of shit they don’t mean.” His voice was hard.
“I’m not like that.”
“How would I know?” He sounded almost lost.
“You can’t.” I thought about how thoroughly Paul had tricked me. “But in the long run, it doesn’t really matter if you get deceived. My ex made a fool of me. But I survived.” I’d acted like a self-centered infant afterward, but I’d survived.
He cocked his head.
“I know somebody wounded you, and I think that’s why you avoid people.” He didn’t argue with me so I kept talking. “But just because someone hurts you, that doesn’t mean your life ends. You pick up the pieces and you move on.”
He didn’t look convinced. “That’s like something a shrink would say.”
“Doesn’t make it wrong.”
“I disagree with how easy you make it sound. There are degrees of… betrayal.”
“I know. But you have to go on.”
“You don’t have to.”
I lifted my chin. “I’m not letting some asshole sideline my whole life. Not anymore.”
“I want to move forward.” A deep line appeared between his brows.
“Good.”
“But…” His swallow was loud in the room. “It’s not as easy as it sounds.”
“No. It isn’t. But I’m stubborn.”
“Me too.” His gaze was intense.
I laughed. “That’s something else we have in common.”
He gave a gentle smile. “We’re up to three things.”
“We like food, dogs, and we’re both stubborn. I mean, it sounds like a lifelong friendship in the making.” I knew I was rambling, but his heated glance and hand on my leg was affecting me more than I wanted.
He had a funny look on his face. “You confuse me.”
“I don’t mean to.”
He ran his gaze over my body. “Sometimes you make me want things I haven’t wanted in a while.”
“I… I do?”
“Yes.”
“What kind of things?” I asked breathlessly.
“Just stuff.” He inched his hand along the inside of my thigh until it was almost brushing my swollen cock. “But it’s been so long, I’ve forgotten how to play the game.”
“Scottie. That’s not why I brought you here.” God, it took a lot to say that. My cock was painfully constricted by my underwear, and I didn’t really want to behave.
“I haven’t had full-on sex with anyone since I got… cut.” He winced.
“We can just watch a movie.” I sounded flustered.
“I might not be in the mood for a movie anymore.”
“Is that right?” I said in a strangled voice.
“Yeah.”
I hissed when he stroked my cock through my jeans, and I bit my bottom lip. “That’s not fair.”
He laughed softly. “I know.”
Sweat broke out on my forehead. “I’m trying really hard to be a gentleman.”
“I can tell.” He squeezed my shaft and I moaned. “I like it when you make those noises.”
I licked my lips. “You’re killing me here.”
He moved closer still, and his fingers went to my belt buckle, making me feel like my heart was going to punch through my chest wall. He undid the clasp and slowly unzipped my pants.
“Careful what you start, Scottie,” I warned, but he just bit his lower lip and reached inside my underwear. As his warm hand touched my cock, I arched my back and gave a chest-deep groan.
He sighed and pulled my cock through the slit of my underwear. “You’re a big fucker.”
“Thank you,” I hissed as he swept his thumb over the slick head of my dick.
“I’m not sure what’s come over me.”
“Yeah, I’m kind of wondering that myself,” I said weakly.
“Promise you didn’t just plan this?”
I lifted my head and stared at his flushed face like he was crazy. “Me? You’re the one with your hands in my pants.”
He grinned and his dimples made my heart clench with emotions I’d given up long ago. I didn’t understand him at all, but I wanted him. And I wanted him to want me.
He looked nervous but aroused. “Yeah, let’s skip the movie.”
I kept my hands at my sides. “I wasn’t kidding. It’s not too late. If you want to stop, we can stop.” I deserved an award for how honorable I was being. I meant every word too, but it wasn’t easy forcing myself to say them.
He crawled up my body and he hovered over me, his handsome face a foot above mine. He turned so I could see his scar clearly. “Promise it doesn’t gross you out?”
“Not even a little.”
“Are you sure?”
He was driving me nuts with his warm body pressed to mine. “Scottie, please.”
“Please what?” he whispered.
I gave up trying to be the good guy. I reached up and I pulled his head down. Then I licked a line along his scar, while pushing my cock against his hand. I kissed his puckered skin and then looked in his eyes. “Let’s go in my bedroom.”
He tensed. “What if I told you there are more scars?”
A chill went through me, not because I was repulsed, but because that meant he’d endured even more pain. “Are there?”
His eyes teared up as he nodded, and I could see he thought I was going to reject him.
“I don’t care.”
His lip trembled. “You’re just saying that.”
“Let’s go in the bedroom, now.” I rolled my hips, and my cock rubbed his jean-covered bulge.
Pleasure rolled across his tense features. “I’m scared.”
That same protective compulsion from before surged through me. I pulled his mouth to mine, and his full lips and taste almost made me come right then and there. He whimpered against my mouth, and I probed his tongue with mine. I needed him more than I’d ever needed a man. My heart ached for what he must have suffered, and I pulled my mouth from his and whispered, “Either we go in my bedroom now, or I’m fucking you right here. You turn me on, Scottie.”
He gave a soft laugh. “I guess that’s four things we have in common.”