I wake up feeling like I’m in an oven. I throw my covers off and feel someone shift beside me. I glance over my shoulder to see Brewer slowly rousing from his sleep as well. No wonder I was about to die of heat stroke; I left the blinds open last night, and the morning sun was baking us. Add that to my large comforter, and Brewer’s hot body taking up half my bed, and I’m sweating my ass off.

When Brewer moved in, I never thought he’d end up sleeping in my bed every night. Not that I’m complaining. In fact, one thing I always miss when I’m single is the feeling of someone next to me when I sleep.

“Sorry, I was laying all over you, making you sweaty,” Brewer apologizes, rubbing his eyes and yawning.

I wave him off and haul myself out of bed, wincing at the tender ache in my ass from the shoot yesterday.

Shaggy jumps up out of his doggy bed and starts dancing around by my feet. I reach down and pat his head, assuring him I’ll take him outside in a few minutes.

“Want coffee?” I ask Brewer.

“Sure, thanks, teddy bear.”

I shake my head at the dumb nickname, but a little warmth also zips through me. I don’t know why, but I like it when he sees me as a teddy bear instead of a mean old grizzly.

“How’d you feel about the scene yesterday?” Brewer asks, climbing out of bed and following me to the kitchen, as unconcerned with his nakedness as I am. I didn’t think about it when I got up, but when I realize we’re both standing in the kitchen with our soft dicks swinging in the breeze, it feels weirdly intimate and overly familiar with each other.

“Good. Weird, but good. I’m sure it’ll turn out to be a viewer favorite, you finally having a go at me.”

“Hell, yeah, even I’m going to watch it over and over until I die,” Brewer chuckles, and I growl without any heat behind it. The thought of Brewer jerking off to one of our scenes sometime in the distant future heats me to my core. “Thanks for making breakfast,” Brewer says.

I nod and start coffee and then head back to my dresser to pull on a pair of boxers.

“Can I ask you something?” Brewer asks, perching himself on my bed, still naked as the day he was born, looking at me with a hint of insecurity in his eyes.

“Sure,” I agree hesitantly.

“It’s been on my mind a lot, and I’m just wondering…”

“Spit it out already,” I prompt.

His eyes light up with the obvious double entendre he’s about to make, but I fix him with a stern look, and he slumps down a little. He opens and closes his mouth a few times before finally blurting it out.

“Why do you hate me?”

My stomach twists at the sadness in his tone and the vulnerability in his expression. “I don’t hate you.”

I didn’t think that was something I’d ever say to Brewer, but over the past few weeks, things have changed between us. He’s let me see past the slutty facade. And he’s seen me in ways no one else ever has.

“But you did,” Brewer presses. “I don’t know why I care, but it’s been bothering me.”

I blow out a long breath and turn my back to Brewer, pretending to look for something in my dresser so I don’t have to look at him while I admit this.

“The first time we met, when I started at Ballsy, you took one look at me and completely dismissed me. I guess that sort of hit a deep-seated insecurity. Then the more I got to know you, I saw how opposite we were, and it grated on me. I didn’t know it was all a front. I figured you were just an entitled prick.”

I jump at the feel of Brewer’s hands on my back.

“I’m sorry I was an asshole when we met. You weren’t wrong; I acted like a complete asshole. Sometimes, I think I forget where Brewer ends and Micah begins.”

I turn around and put a hand on his lower back, pulling him against me.

“That’s easy. Brewer is an obnoxious fuckboy. Micah is a brilliant, funny, slightly insecure man who is actually pretty awesome to spend time with.”

“Aw, if I didn’t know any better, teddy bear, I’d think you have a little crush on me,” he teases.

“Unfortunately, both Micah and Brewer are conceited little shits,” I chuckle and then grab the back of his neck and drag him in for a kiss. His lips open to me without hesitation, his tongue eagerly meeting mine.

“I was totally right, you hated me because you wanted me,” Brewer brags between kisses.

“Knock it off, or I’ll have to shut you up the only way I know how,” I threaten, nipping at his bottom lip.

“Ooo, I’m shaking. Big bad Tank is going to shove his cock down my throat. You don’t scare me, because I know Peter just like you know Micah. And Peter is more of a pussy cat than a big ol’ bear.”

“You have anything planned today?” I ask, clearly surprising him.

“Just studying, why?”

“I thought we could go do something fun. Have you ever been to the Santa Monica Pier?”

“No.” Brewer shakes his head, a smile tugging at his lips.

“That’s where we’re going today.”

“Okay,” he agrees, his eyes now dancing with excitement.

* * *

“How have I never been here?” Brewer asks, his eyes lighting with excitement as he looks around at all the games, food stands, and the Ferris wheel in the distance.

“I’m guessing because you’ve been too busy working yourself into the ground to take time for something pointless and fun like this.”

“Uh, yeah, I think you’re right,” Brewer agrees sheepishly.

On a whim, I link my fingers through his, telling myself this is in case any of our fans happen to spot us.

“Oh, this is perfect for an Instagram moment, hold on.” Brewer pulls his phone out and turns so we have the Ferris wheel in the background. I put my arm around his shoulders and lean in for the picture. “That looks great. Rebel will be happy with us at least.”

“Yup, gotta earn that paycheck.”

The paycheck, that’s what we’re here for. It’s all about the fat check Bear wrote us. I remind myself over and over as we walk down the pier hand in hand.

“God that smells like heaven, what is that?” Brewer asks, sniffing the air.

“I’m guessing fried dough— funnel cake or something.”

“I’ve never had one,” he admits.

“Really? They have them at every carnival and basically any amusement park.”

“I’ve never been to one.”

“A carnival or an amusement park?” I ask incredulously. Not that my family was big on fun and games, but we went to the county fair every year at least.

“Neither. We didn’t really do anything like that when I was a kid, and I guess I’ve just never thought about it as an adult.” Brewer shrugs, but there’s an unshakeable sadness in his eyes that inexplicably makes me want to take him to Disney World on every continent.

“Come on, let’s get you a funnel cake.” I tug him to the first booth I see advertising funnel cake. I order two and pass one to him.

“Thank you,” he says with a hint of surprise in his voice like my failure to act like a dick for five minutes is shocking. I guess I deserve that.

We sit down, and Brewer snaps a few pics of our food and posts that to Instagram as well with a thousand or so hashtags.

“I guess you’ve never been on a Ferris wheel, either?”

“Nope.” he shakes his head, eyeing the ride in the distance.

“Come on, something to check off your bucket list.”

“Believe it or not, being a thousand feet up in the air isn’t on my bucket list.”

“It’s no more than two hundred feet,” I argue, eyeing the ride for my best estimate.

“Still, I don’t want to,” Brewer says, shaking his head as he looks at the ride.

I step close and tug Brewer against me, wrapping my arms around his waist and brushing my lips against his ear. “What if I hold your hand and keep you safe?”

Brewer shivers and relaxes in my arms. “You promise to keep me safe?” he asks skeptically. “You’re not trying to lure me up there just so you can toss me off and make it look like an accident?”

I chuckle and nip at Brewer’s ear, making him gasp. “Don’t worry, if I decide to kill you, I have a much better plan than tossing you off a Ferris wheel.”

“That makes me feel so much better,” Brewer says sarcastically, squirming in my arms.

“Come on, please?” I ask one more time.

“Fine, but if I freak out, you’d better not make fun of me.”

“Never.” I press my lips to his and then release him. I notice a strange look in Brewer’s eyes after I let him go. I can’t blame him. I’m acting weird and I don’t understand it any more than he does.

We head down the pier with the crowd jostling around us.

“Oh my god, Tank and Brewer?” a cute little twink asks excitedly as we pass him. Brewer tugs me to a stop, and I growl quietly. I get that our fans are the reason we get a paycheck, but that doesn’t mean I enjoy the attention.

“Hi, it’s always nice to meet a fan,” Brewer greets him with a flirty smile. I bristle a little remembering all the times Brewer disappeared from the club with a fan.

“I can’t believe I’m meeting you guys! This is so cool. Would you mind if I take a picture to post on Instagram?”

“Of course not,” Brewer agrees. He reaches for me, and when I resist for a second, he fixes with me a clear play nice glare. “Don’t mind Tank, he hasn’t been properly socialized. He’s basically a feral animal.”

“Very funny,” I grumble, taking a place for the photo with the kid between the two of us.

“Thank you so much, this made my day.”

“Anytime, cupcake.” Brewer gives him a kiss on the cheek, and I swear the kid nearly creams his pants as his face turns bright red, and he stutters out another thank you.

He finally wanders off, and I snatch Brewer’s hand again.

“What has you so grouchy?”

“I’m always grouchy,” I point out.

“This is extra grouchy, and you were fine before that kid recognized us. Is this you not wanting to be seen with me in public or something?”

“I don’t mind being seen with you in public. I was just kissing you in public for christ's sake.”

“Then what?” Brewer demands, tugging me to a stop again.

“Nothing, I guess I’m just wondering if you’re bummed you couldn’t fuck that kid. I know you like hooking up with fans.”

“First of all, fuck you.” Brewer shoves my shoulder hard enough to make me stumble.

I wait with quiet contrition to find out what second of all might be, but it’s clear he’s not going to make this easy on me as he stands glaring at me like he’s considering punching me in the face. I think we both know the only thing he’s likely to accomplish is breaking his own hand, but I doubt that’ll stop him from trying.

“Is there a second of all?” I finally ask.

“Yeah, second of all, fuck you.”

“I think that was first of all,” I point out, trying to keep a straight face in light of Brewer clearly wanting to kick me in the balls.

“Yeah, and third of all, fuck you.” He turns and starts to stalk off, but I grab his arm to stop him.

“I’m sorry, that was an asshole thing for me to say. Can I try again?” I ask. Brewer’s jaw remains clenched for several seconds before he finally nods.

“What I meant to ask was, has it been difficult for you to be stuck with only me lately when you’re used to more variety?”

His stance finally softens, and I let go of my hold on him. “I thought it would be, but it hasn’t been bad. It’s probably because I’m too busy and too tired to go out to the club all the time to pull.”

“Yeah,” I agree. “Forgive me?”

“I guess,” Brewer shrugs, but it’s clear he’s not ready to get back to the fun we were having before I put my foot in my mouth.

Out of the corner of my eye, I notice one of those games where you use the mallet to hit the gong to win a prize.

“Come on,” I grab his hand again and tug him toward the game.

I fork over my five dollars, confident I can win this easily. I raise the wooden mallet over my head and bring it down with all my strength, the bell at the top ringing out loudly.

When the game operator hands over a little brown teddy bear, I offer it immediately to Brewer.

“What’s this?” Brewer asks, fighting a smile.

“A teddy bear of your very own to play with,” I crack a half smile.

“I already have a teddy bear of my own to play with,” he teases, cocking an eyebrow at me, daring me to argue.

I just shake my head, not raising to the bait for a change.

“Come on, face your fear of heights with me and I’ll buy you lunch.”

Brewer sighs, running his index finger over the little bear’s nose and then offers me his free hand. The line for the Ferris wheel moves slowly, but we’re content to people watch and enjoy the beautiful day while we wait. We talk about our classes and what movie we should watch during our next movie night.

I don’t understand how this happened, but Brewer has become one of the few constants in my life. He’s something I count on. How the hell did that sneak up on me?

When it’s finally our turn, Brewer is starting to tremble beside me, chewing his bottom lip as he tilts his head to look up at the ride again.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” I check. I know I teased him and pushed him into it, but the last thing I want is for Brewer to feel like I’m not giving him a choice.

“I do. I won’t do it on my own, and I don’t think I’d trust anyone else to keep me safe, so it’s now or never.”

I let those words wash over me. I don’t think I’d trust anyone else.

We settle into our seats, and Brewer reaches for my hand, giving it a hard squeeze as the metal bar is lowered over our laps. We start to move, and Brewer lets out a funny little squeak, squeezing his eyes closed.

“It’s no fun if you don’t see the view,” I tell him, giving his hand an encouraging squeeze back. “Come on, open your eyes.”

He peeks one eye open and then closes it again in a hurry. He tries a few more times, making hilarious noises every time the ride moves to let the next couple board. When we reach the top, I lean closer to Brewer, my breath ruffling through his hair.

“Open your eyes, fuckboy,” I whisper against his ear.

“Nuh-uh,” he disagrees, shaking his head and clutching me tighter.

“Open,” I repeat.

This time he slowly opens one eye, and then he gasps. “Fuck, we’re high up.”

“Forget about that. Look at the view; it’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

“I guess,” he agrees.

“You’re impossible,” I chuckle.

“You basically called me easy earlier, so I’ll take impossible now.”

I shake my head and pull Brewer a little closer to enjoy the feel of him against my side as I enjoy the view at least.