Chapter Two

THE AFTERNOON went by in a blur. Scott and Phin were so gracious—Scott signing and answering questions for longer than he’d agreed to stay. But things got awkward when Forrester caught Kyle’s gaze during the reading.

“…and he pressed a languid kiss against my mouth, nipping my lower lip and making me shudder. Then he tasted my jaw and trailed his moist tongue down to where my pulse pounded….”

The audience had been enraptured. Sitting in the front row, Kyle had given Forrester a sly smile that left him flushed. He immediately hurried into the back room to compose himself. He returned to the reading before it finished, his mind and body under control, pretending he’d left to get a bottle of water for Scott.

Holly didn’t buy the subterfuge and raised her brows knowingly. When no one was watching, he flipped her a quick one-fingered Italian hello, and she just laughed.

After Scott packed up, Forrester got lost checking out customers and was startled when Kyle stood before him, books in hand.

“Oh, you’re still here.”

“Stayed for the whole thing.” Along with the new S.D. Howe book, he placed a hardcover on the counter. One of Forrester’s favorites—Kevin Anderson’s fourth book in The Saga of the Seven Suns.

“Excellent series.”

“Thanks for turning me on to it.”

You’re turning me on…. He cleared his throat. “No problem.”

“Not that I need any more books,” Kyle said with an awkward laugh. “When I finished unpacking, I found a lot of duplicates.”

“You do know this is a used bookstore and we take trade-ins?”

“You’d probably love to get your hands on my books,” he teased.

The double entendre warmed Forrester clear to the middle, but he managed to flirt back. “You know I would.”

Jeez, my voice sounds so rough!

Shorter than Forrester, maybe five ten in his motorcycle boots, Kyle gave him a grin. “And I have everything you could possibly want.”

I want you….

“So, Forrester.” Kyle said his name in a way that never ceased to send shockwaves down his back and straight to his cock. “How does one go about trading in books around here?”

He pressed his groin closer to the back of the checkout counter, not wanting his thin khakis to reveal what Kyle’s voice did to him. He knew it wasn’t an accent anymore, but the soft way Kyle spoke lured him in like a siren’s song.

Since no one else waited to check out, Forrester took a moment to soak in those gorgeous hazel eyes, then smiled impishly. “First you have to bring them in.”

“That would be helpful.” Kyle’s generous mouth cracked a grin.

He tried his damnedest not to picture those downright kissable lips wrapped around his cock while he ran his fingers through Kyle’s sun-streaked hair.

He’d always had a thing for blonds.

He plucked up one of the flyers from the counter. Somehow he managed to sound professional, educated even, when he handed it over. “Our policy is we only take gently used books.”

“Mine are in great shape.”

“I bet they are,” Forrester drawled.

“They’re like new,” he insisted. “No folded corners, never dropped one in a tub either.”

“Good to hear. I hate it when people ruin a good book.” Dammit, now I’m picturing Kyle in a bathtub!

“Me too.” Kyle folded the flyer and tucked it into his pocket.

“For every book you trade in, we give 15 percent off the purchase of a new book or 25 percent off a used one. And for every three books, you get a free used book or half off a new one.”

Kyle flashed those pearly whites, making his eyes crinkle and his dimples deepen so much Forrester longed to flick his tongue inside them. “Guess I got some free books coming.”

“I guess you do,” he quipped. “Do you want to buy these today or wait till you do the trade?”

Kyle withdrew his card. “Nah, I’ll buy them now. I’ve been dying to see what happens since you got me hooked on this series. And Scott already signed this one.”

Forrester offered him a sideways smile. “I’ll just give you 15 percent off on good faith.”

“Gosh, you don’t have to do that.”

Good Lord, the guy said gosh. Could he be more adorable?

When Forrester noticed Holly watching them, he resisted the urge to stick his tongue out at her. Instead, he shrugged off Kyle’s modesty and entered the discount into his computer. “No problem. Just make sure you bring me some good stuff, capisci?”

“Will do. Thanks a lot.”

Forrester swiped his card, then offered Kyle another inviting smile. The one Ma called his suck-up smile. “Can I get you anything else? Answer any more of your questions?”

Kyle kept smiling. “No. You’ve been pretty thorough, as usual.”

“You sure?” he prompted, unable to stop flirting so shamelessly. “You don’t need to know anything else? What’s on the bestseller list? Today’s weather? The meaning of life?”

“Forty-two.”

Official report: Forrester was in love with Kyle Benson.

Or at least in serious lust.

His grin widened so big he swore his face might crack. “A Hitchhiker fan. I should’ve known.” He tore off the receipt and slid it forward for Kyle to sign.

“Hells yeah.” Kyle laughed.

Forrester bagged the books. “Receipt with you or in the bag?”

“Bag’s fine.” He accepted his purchases, then cleared his throat and fiddled with the bag. “All right, um, thank you, Forrester. Always a pleasure.” He extended a hand and Forrester took it, electric jolts running through his blood at the feel of those lightly calloused fingers.

“No problem,” he managed, not letting go.

Kyle kept his gaze locked on Forrester, blinking and glancing from his eyes to his mouth. Warming, Forrester ran his thumb across the back of his hand. He couldn’t believe his forwardness, but Kyle had some kind of tractor beam sucking him in. Powerless against its pull, he stroked the soft skin once more with a nervous, light touch, pulses of heat and desire stirring inside him.

Forrester let go and cleared his throat. “Um, Kyle?”

“Yeah?”

The phone rang, shattering the moment.

Sighing, he snagged it on the third ring. “Thank you for calling A Novel Idea. This is Forrester, how may I help you?”

“Hey, it’s me.”

Only real friends or family could answer a phone with an “it’s me.” Lucas Beale was the former. Though totally weird, and he hated sports of all kinds, Lucas was Forrester’s “boy best friend”—Holly having the honor of being his “girl best friend.” He didn’t know what he would do without either of them.

“Hey, Lucas, what’s up?” He tried not to sound annoyed at the telephone cockblock.

Kyle waved goodbye. “I guess I’ll see ya later, Forrester.”

“Can’t wait.”

“Can’t wait for what?” Lucas asked in confusion.

He covered the receiver, hoping he didn’t sound lame to Kyle. “I mean… uh, I can’t wait to read that book together?” His entire body froze in one breath of anticipation.

Kyle cocked his head to the side, then smiled. “Absolutely.”

Still grinning, Kyle turned and walked away.

Ignoring Lucas as he started talking again, Forrester watched Kyle’s spectacular ass as he headed to the door. A woman was coming in and, like a perfect gentleman, Kyle held the door for her. Outside, Kyle slid on and strapped his helmet. Then he threw his leg over and straddled the chrome-and-black Sportster parked out front.

I got something he can straddle and ride…. Forrester’s skin flushed all the way to his toes. Was Kyle a top or a bottom? Being versatile, he really didn’t care. As long as there was manly skin touching his, lots of kissing, and he got to come, Forrester was a happy camper. But the prospect of finding out what Kyle liked made his entire body warm.

He watched Kyle put his bike into gear and walk it back out of the space. As it did every time Kyle left, a deep ache settled in his stomach.

God, I just need to marry him.

“Forrester!” Lucas shouted from the phone.

Shaking his head at his silly thoughts, Forrester said, “Sorry, what did you say, Lucas?”

“I asked if you have a game tonight.”

Forrester played on a baseball team for Smitty’s Pizzeria, a favorite joint back home in Shiloh. He glanced out the front of his store, where long gray shadows had swallowed sunny afternoon. “Not sure. It’s supposed to rain pretty bad tonight, so if there’s lightning at the rec, then no.”

“You wanna go to the Flames?”

Forrester frowned. “Not really. We just went out.”

“We only went to Reverends,” Lucas argued.

“What’s wrong with that?” Until six months ago, the only gay-friendly joint within a two-hour radius of Gilead had been the tiny bar, Reverends. Dad pointed it out once when they drove by as kids, warning Forrester and his brothers the owner had AIDS and to never get lured in there.

Yeah, like gay guys were setting traps to lure straight boys into bars.

Reverends was a hole-in-the-wall, and the owner didn’t have HIV. He was just an old biker dude from the seventies who didn’t care if people in conservative Shiloh didn’t like that he was gay. The bar had been there as long as Forrester remembered and never had a problem with guys like Forrester coming in the back door.

“I wanna go to the Flames, get loaded, dance, and find some dude with a ten-inch dick to fuck me till I can’t walk straight,” Lucas was saying. “Preferably in that order.”

That got a chuckle out of him. “You do, eh?”

“Yes,” Lucas said. “Mom and Munny are making me go to Disney World, and they got that condo on the beach, remember?”

“Oh, I forgot.” In order to keep things clear, Lucas’s lesbian mothers, Bunny and Karla, referred to Bunny as Munny. Their idea of Mecca was Disney, and Lucas went with them every year for an absurdly long vacation. He pretended to hate it, but Forrester knew he frigging loved every second of it.

“It’ll be all jumbo turkey legs, Mickey Mouse, lame-ass rides, and character breakfasts,” Lucas complained. “I won’t get to have any fun at all. Munny will see to that. She’s really ragging on me about drinking again. Now she says alcohol causes throat cancer. And I keep finding AA pamphlets in my bathroom.” He had his moms’ entire basement set up like an apartment, complete with a kitchenette and bathroom. “Come party with me. I’ll be gone a whole month.”

“I don’t know, babe. I’m really tired.” Forrester wasn’t in the mood to drive back to Shiloh if it rained, then be squished inside a club like cattle, jostling and pushing to attract the shirtless bartender’s attention for a drink before going back out on the dance floor to gyrate and dry-hump with the rest of the squirrels looking for nuts. Though, after Scott’s sexy reading and all the flirting with Kyle, Forrester was horny. But just not for any ol’ guy.

He was horny for Kyle.

“Why don’t you drag Holly along?” Forrester suggested. “We’ll go get dinner or something before you go.”

“Ugh, fine, party pooper. Is she there with you? Ask her if she wants to go.”

“Lucas wants to know if you wanna go out tonight?” he asked Holly.

“Already planning on it. Rachel’s friend is having a birthday. We’re meeting up at Reverends, then going to the Flames.” She raised her arms up and did a quick dance move. Rachel was Holly’s roommate, and they were always up for a party.

He chuckled and shook his head. Never in all his life would Forrester have expected a gay nightclub to open in Shiloh. But with the university students, it actually drew quite a crowd. The Flames wasn’t a big place, not like clubs in Columbus’s Short North. It was just an old laundromat across the street from Reverends, converted into a dance club, with male strippers every Thursday night and drag shows on weekends.

“Holly said she’ll be there,” he told Lucas.

“You sure you don’t wanna come?”

“I’m sure. If the game is canceled, I’d rather stay here, get some takeout, and be by myself for a few hours. You know I don’t get any peace and quiet at home.”

“Yeah, I do. Well, if you change your mind, you know where I’ll be. Laters.”

A crack of lightning cut across the sky, confirming his decision. Being here in his store while it stormed—by himself—with a cup of tea and a good book?

Now that sounded like an amazing night.

He’d been excited about the Flames opening—at first.

A new gay club could give a closeted guy in BFE better dating options than hookup apps and a tiny dive bar. But it had simply been more of the same. He’d be twenty-six in two weeks. Time and life had tarnished the glitter of the scene. Yes, the dancing was always fun, but the meat-market atmosphere of clubs just felt so disingenuous. Even before he left Columbus, his youthful exuberance for nonstop drinks, guys, and parties had faded into more mature desires.

Forrester wanted a real boyfriend, not just another hookup.

He always imagined he would meet the love of his life in college. They would move back to his hometown, come out and face the drama with la famiglia together, then open a quaint bookstore in Gilead and live happily ever after.

Well, two out of three ain’t bad.