Hot water cascades over my face until I tilt my head back and run my hands through my hair. There’s nothing like a shower after working up a sweat on set. People often ask what the worst thing about prison is and to me it was a toss-up between the food and the communal showers. Although the beds really sucked too. It was all shitty, to be honest. But the first thing I did when I got out was take a scalding hot, forty-five-minute shower.

I rinse the last of the soap from my body, and then I shut off the water. I pull back the curtain and grumble when I realize I forgot to grab a towel. Nudity obviously isn’t a big concern here, but it’s chilly back here, and I don’t relish walking around soaking wet, all the way to the lockers to grab a towel.

Like a little wish granting sprite, Pixie saunters over with a towel in his outstretched hand.

“I noticed you didn’t have a towel.”

“Thanks, Pix.” I take the towel and drop a quick kiss on his cheek.

I dry off and then sling the towel over my shoulder and head to my locker to get dressed. Pixie seems to have left, but Campy is still there. Come to think of it, I’m not sure what Pixie was even doing hanging around today. As far as I know, he didn’t have any filming scheduled.

Campy glances over at me and then averts his gaze quickly.

“Look all you want, you just had your cock up my ass.”

He chuckles and tugs his pants up. “This is a weird job, right?”

“I guess so,” I shrug.

I’ve never made money from anything other than sex, so for me it’s not so strange. But I guess I can see where other people might feel uncomfortable sometimes. I pull my clothes out and start putting them on, watching Campy dress as well and realizing how little I know about him.

“Hey, you wouldn’t want to grab lunch or anything, would you?”

He looks surprised by my offer, his eyebrows scrunching and his lips parting. “Uh…um…yeah, sure.”

We finish dressing and head out.

“This is going to sound odd after we just spent the morning fucking, but I don’t think you and I have ever had a one on one conversation.”

“Huh, yeah I guess not. You don’t make it to a lot of the events we have to do, and I don’t come out for a lot of the socializing, so I guess it makes sense.”

We decide on the Mexican place we all love right down the street from Ballsy. As soon as we’re seated, I wonder if this was a mistake. I can’t ask someone to hang out to get to know them better when there’s so much of my past I’m not willing to share.

“I’m surprised you’re not hanging out with Mason this afternoon. You two have been joined at the hip for months it seems,” Campy says, and my gut twists.

Ever since Mason got that date for this weekend, I’ve been feeling…weird. It’s a hot, uncomfortable feeling in the pit of my stomach I just can’t place.

For some reason I’m not just obsessing about Mason’s date, but it has me wondering if Lucky dates. If I had to guess, I’d say he’s not a hook-up guy. But is he single or does he have a partner? Is he as uptight in a relationship as he comes off, or does he have a softer side? And why the fuck am I thinking about Lucky’s love life? At least I can explain my obsession with Mason’s date as concern for my sweet, fragile friend.

“Yeah, he’s got class and then he said he has some coding to work on this afternoon.”

Campy nods and shoves a salsa covered chip in his mouth.

“How’s it going with your new roommate? Decent guy so far?”

A light blush creeps into Campy’s cheeks. “Yeah, he’s cool,” he answers gruffly. “Tank and Brewer’s scene the other day was pretty intense, huh?” he segues.

“Yeah, I’m not surprised it nearly crashed the server with all the views. Who would’ve guessed those two would have so much chemistry?”

“I think it’s a fine line between love and hate kind of a thing. I bet they’ve wanted each other all along but couldn’t admit it until Rebel put them together and the sparks flew. Watch, they’ll be dating and declaring their love any day now.”

“Yeah, I could see that,” I agree.

“That would be three of us paired off. Think Pixie will be next after that?” he muses.

“Well, it sure as shit won’t be me,” I vow. “I don’t do relationships, they’re nothing but trouble and heartache.”

“Yeah, I don’t have time to date. Plus…”

“Plus what?”

Campy turns his head away quickly, a look of panic on his face for a few seconds before he schools his features. “Nothing, I didn’t mean to say that.”

“No worries.” Who am I to begrudge a man his secrets?

All this talk of dating has my stomach doing that horrible twisting thing again. For some reason, all I want is to find Mason and prove to myself that his going on a date with someone doesn’t change anything.

We stay on easy topics the rest of the meal—movies, books, the other guys. And when we finish eating, my one-track mind is still stuck on Mason.

Heart: I know you’re busy, but mind if I swing by for a few?

Mason: yeah, sure. I’m already making myself cross-eyed with code, a short break couldn’t hurt

My stomach unknots a fraction, and when I part from Campy, I head toward Mason’s apartment instead of my own.

After he buzzes me in, I jog up the stairs and find his door slightly ajar like usual. I push it open and stand for a second, caught in the strangely appealing sight of Mason’s face fixed in rapt concentration, his fingers flying over the computer keys. The tip of his tongue is sticking out between his teeth, and his curly hair is sticking up everywhere, reminding me of how he looked after we fooled around the other day.

I kick off my shoes and shut the door behind me. Mason finally looks up from his computer, and the lines in his forehead smooth out as he smiles.

“Hey.” He sets his computer on the coffee table, and before I can think about it, I’m on him.

I grab his legs and swing them up onto the couch and then blanket his body with mine. He gasps in surprise but his smile doesn’t wane.

“What are you—”

I cut his question off with my lips. It only takes him a second to catch up with my intention, and his tongue darts out to lick my lip ring. I take the opportunity to shove my tongue into his mouth, licking and sucking, savoring his flavor on my tongue. His body is warm and pliant under mine, making my dick hard as granite as I swallow all of his whimpers and moans. I’m tempted to make my way south and suck something else instead of his tongue.

There haven’t been many sexual encounters in my life that were for no reason other than wanting, but Mason makes me crave it, and that’s scary as fuck.

I yank my lips from his, my heart hammering and too many emotions swirling through me.

“I can’t hang around; I just wanted to stop over and say hi on my way home,” I explain as I heave myself off him.

“Oh…um, okay. Did I do something or…?”

“Not a chance, you’re perfect,” I assure him with one more quick peck on his now damp lips. “Let’s hang out this weekend. You free Friday night?”

Mason pales a little and squirms in his seat. “That’s when I have that date I mentioned.”

My damn stomach does the irritating twisting thing once more, and I force a smile. “Of course. Well, call me and tell me how it goes, and we’ll hang out next week, okay?”

“Yeah,” he agrees eagerly.

“Have fun, and if this guy isn’t nice to you, tell me so I can tear off his dick and choke him with it.”

He giggles and nods. “Thanks, Heart.”

“Any time, babe.”