See My Words by Melenie Hansen (6)

Chapter Six

SCOTT WOKE SLOWLY, IN INCREMENTS, blinking against the daylight flooding into the room. He stretched, so warm and comfortable he didn’t ever want to get up. Rylan was on his side facing away from him, his breaths deep and even, the sheet pooled low around his hips.

Scott couldn’t help it; he danced his fingers down Rylan’s spine, chuckling at the goose bumps that pebbled his skin. Rylan twitched, mumbling “Stop it” when Scott pressed up to his back and slid one arm around his waist.

“No,” Scott whispered, one fingertip circling a nipple. “Wanna play.”

“Wanna sleep. Lemme alone.” Rylan’s voice was slurred and irritable, and Scott placed an openmouthed kiss on his neck, inhaling deeply of the spicy scent of bodywash and sleep-warmed skin.

“Mmm. Please?” Scott nibbled on Rylan’s earlobe. “Want you.” He rocked his erection against Rylan’s lower back.

Rylan sighed. “If you’re a morning sex person, this relationship will never work.” Despite his words, he kicked the sheet off, lifting his top leg to drape it over Scott’s hip and reaching back with one hand to encourage Scott’s movement.

Scott growled under his breath, snugging his cock into the crease between Rylan’s groin and thigh, beginning a slow, measured thrust against him.

Rylan gasped when the head of Scott’s dick nudged his balls. He rolled halfway to his back and wrapped his arm around Scott’s neck, parting his lips to beg for a kiss. Scott obliged, nipping at his mouth, teasing him with his tongue, enjoying Rylan’s breathy moans.

He spread his palm over Rylan’s belly, pulling him closer, before sliding his hand down to take Rylan’s dick in hand. “So hard for me. So fucking sexy.”

He jacked Rylan with long, slow strokes while he rubbed his own cock against him, the precome running down Rylan’s shaft easing the way for both of them.

“Scott,” Rylan cried out, his voice low and hoarse, the hard column of flesh throbbing in Scott’s hand. “Oh, Scott.”

Rylan arched his back, his nipple so close to Scott’s mouth, so inviting, that Scott just had to suck on it, taking it between his teeth to lash it with his tongue.

“God,” Rylan moaned, and then he was coming, his spunk jetting out onto the sheets and all over Scott’s fingers.

With a hiss, Scott slicked himself up with Rylan’s come, rutting between Rylan’s cheeks and thighs until he exploded with a deep groan.

They rubbed their parted lips together as their breathing calmed, and Rylan pulled away with a gentle kiss to the corner of Scott’s mouth. “Okay, you win. Always wake me up that way.”

He got up and stretched before heading toward the bathroom. Scott wallowed on the bed, admiring the lean muscles of his back, the long legs and tight, round buttocks. Rylan left the door open as he noisily used the toilet, humming under his breath while he shaved and brushed his teeth.

“Hey, we’re almost out of shampoo,” Rylan called out to him. “I’m running to the store later, so be thinking if there’s anything else we need, okay?” The shower came on, and Rylan yelped as he stepped into it a little too soon, probably getting a face full of cold water.

The whole thing was so domestic, so couple-like, that Scott had to smile, contentment making him feel warm inside.

Always wake me up that way.

Always.

Scott could see it. Could see mornings like this with Rylan, one after the other. And days and nights. And months and years…

The sudden intense longing for it took him by surprise. He jackknifed up and wrapped his arms around his knees, hugging them. Did he really dare to dream of a future with Rylan?

But how long until he gets tired of you, though? Scott could almost hear Heather’s sneering voice in the room. Boring, uneducated you. What do you have to fuckin’ offer him, huh? He deserves excitement and adventure, a man like Chris, not a loser who shakes his ass on a stage.

Rylan padded by, naked, damp, and flushed, and he winked at Scott as he headed to his own room to get dressed, unaware of the insecurity roiling in Scott’s gut and threatening to overwhelm him.

I’m a big boy. Stop telling me what I do and don’t deserve. Rylan’s reasonable voice overtook Heather’s in his head, and Scott blew out a shaky breath, scrubbing his hands over his face as he moved to sit on the side of the bed.

He was so caught up in his thoughts he didn’t notice Rylan come back in until he was standing right in front of him, now wearing a loose pair of cargo shorts and a gray T-shirt.

“Still hurting?” His voice and eyes were full of concern, and Scott gave him a reassuring smile.

“No.”

“Good.” Rylan bent down to kiss the top of his head, and Scott couldn’t help it, he wrapped his arms around Rylan’s waist and buried his face against his stomach. Rylan was here simply because he wanted to be. He’d said so, hadn’t he?

Stop overthinking things, Scott scolded himself. It is what it is, remember? Trust him, and take it one day at a time.

“Sure you’re okay?” Rylan threaded his fingers through Scott’s hair, rubbing his temples gently with his thumbs. “Go back to bed if you want.”

“I’m fine,” Scott mumbled, his voice muffled against Rylan’s shirt. “Just not—ready to let you go yet.”

He tensed, wondering what Rylan would say to that, feeling a little foolish and exposed. But all Rylan did was give a warm chuckle and run his hand over the back of Scott’s neck down to his shoulders, where he kneaded them gently.

“Oh, believe me, I could stay in your arms all day,” he whispered, and Scott sighed, relaxing into him. They swayed there for long minutes, not speaking, until Scott heard Rylan’s stomach growl beneath his ear. He pulled back and looked up at him.

“Make you some breakfast?”

“Sure, I’d like that. How’s your omelet game?”

Scott smirked at him. “Strong as fuck. Veggies?”

“And lots of cheese.” Rylan smacked his lips.

“You got it.” Scott gave him a last nuzzle and then pushed him away, getting to his feet.

Rylan sat at the kitchen island with his laptop while Scott busied himself at the stove, the coffeemaker burbling in the background and filling the room with a homey scent.

“Hey,” Rylan said. “Based on what we talked about last night, I’m thinking of emailing the boys about you. Is that all right?”

Scott carefully flipped the omelet in the pan and put the spatula down before leaning against the counter. “Yeah.” He bit his lip. “You really think they’d want to hear from me after all this time?”

“I know they would,” Rylan said quietly. “You left a hole in all our lives, Scott, that never quite closed.” He gave a helpless gesture. “Of course I can’t guarantee how they’ll react, but it won’t hurt to let them know where you are and give them the option of contacting you.”

“Okay. Do it.”

Rylan’s fingers flew over the keys. “I’m giving them your cell number, so they can text or call if they want.”

Scott nodded, turning back to the stove to slide the finished omelet onto a plate. He carried it over and set it down next to Rylan before whipping up a soft scrambled egg for himself.

By the time he was done, Rylan was reading over what he’d written, stroking his chin thoughtfully.

“Did you tell them what I’m doing? I mean for a living?” Scott asked tightly as he walked over to the island, and Rylan glanced at him, eyebrows raised.

“No. Not because I think you should be ashamed of it, but only because any personal details about your life should come from you, not me. I’m telling them I ran into you here in Phoenix by chance a little over a month ago, and that you’re doing fine. That you’d like to hear from them, but you’re leaving that decision totally up to them.”

Scott blew out a breath. “Okay.” He sat down next to Rylan with his plate, surprised when Rylan put his hand on his knee.

“It’ll be all right. Even if it turns out to just be closure for you all, well, that’s not a bad thing.” The smile he gave Scott was a little shaky, and Scott knew he was thinking about his mom.

He reached down and squeezed Rylan’s hand, threading their fingers together. “You’re right. Go ahead and send it.”

He watched as Rylan clicked the Send button, listening to the little swoosh sound as the email disappeared into the ether of cyberspace.

They didn’t say anything more, just sat there and ate their breakfast, still holding hands.

* * *

“Oh my gawd. You’re back and gorgeous as ever.”

Rylan smiled as Sheer Blyss threw herself into Scott’s arms.

Scott laughed. “My face is finally out of its cage,” he teased. “Almost good as new.”

She kissed his cheek. “You’ve been missed, babycakes.”

With a pert wave, she flitted off to resume her duties as cocktail server for Spectrum’s lunchtime crowd. Rylan looked around. The restaurant was bustling, the covered patio seating almost at capacity. It was hot outside, but thin overhead pipes rained down a fine mist from above that kept everyone cool.

The boisterous clientele was an eclectic mix of businessmen, hipsters, straight couples, and groups of women. House go-go boys, clad in tight logo tank tops and jeans, worked behind the bar, flirting and laughing with the patrons gathered there, the whole vibe sexy, fun, and cosmopolitan.

“Every time I come here,” Rylan remarked, “there’s something new to be amazed about. I mean, it’s noon on a Thursday, and the place is packed.”

Scott smiled, crossing his arms over his chest. “Corey is the smartest motherfucker alive, hiring a five-star chef so we can attract the sophisticated dining crowd during off-peak hours.”

“It’s incredible.”

“He has so many plans,” Scott went on. “Like the satellite club in Scottsdale. He wants the doctors and lawyers, trust-fund kids, you know, the big money demographic. Here we get a lot of the ASU students who take the light-rail over from Tempe, the frat boys, out-of-town bar hoppers. But there—”

Rylan smiled, enjoying his enthusiasm.

“There’s gonna be a huge outdoor pool for summertime theme parties and a hot tub and a stone fireplace with conversation pits around it for the colder months.”

Rylan inched closer, letting his fingers brush Scott’s arm. “Oh, I can’t wait. You gonna let me rub oil on you while you’re sunning yourself in some itty-bitty swimsuit?”

He gulped, trying to rein in his body’s reaction to the thought of straddling Scott while he lay stretched out on a lounger in the bright sunshine. Rylan would massage lotion into the muscles of his back, his shoulders, all that mouthwatering golden skin just for him…

When he peeked up at Scott, he didn’t see an answering heat in his eyes, but instead a bleakness that tore at Rylan’s insides.

“I wouldn’t count on any of it,” Scott said quietly. “The MC₂ endorsement was supposed to be our ticket to opening Spectrum II. But since I fucked that up—”

Rylan squeezed his bicep. “I really wish you’d stop taking all the responsibility for Corey’s success on your shoulders. You—”

“I owe him, Rylan,” Scott interrupted. “I owe him. And I let him down.”

“You don’t owe anybody anything except doing your best, and I’m pretty sure he’s had that from you and then some.” Rylan looked him in the eye. “If he doesn’t see and appreciate that, that’s his problem, not yours.”

Scott processed that and dismissed it, giving a careless little shrug. “I just have to try harder from now on, that’s all, make it up to him somehow. I won’t let his dream die because of me.”

He shook Rylan’s hand off his arm and headed toward the club’s conference room.

“Y’all okay?”

Teena’s voice at his shoulder startled Rylan, and he gave a little squeak before turning to face her, the words he was going to say dying right on his lips.

She was wearing a tiny pair of denim cutoff shorts, Daisy Duke style, along with an off-the-shoulder black crop top emblazoned with the words “Wet Dream” written in rainbow glitter. Fishnet stockings and thigh-high boots completed the look, and Rylan couldn’t tear his eyes away from the belly-button ring winking at him as she put her hand on her hip and struck a pose.

“Jesus.” Rylan felt a little guilty for staring so blatantly. “Uh—damn, Teena. You—look so—” He gave up on eloquence and just said helplessly, “You’re hot.”

“Mmm, I love making the cute boys all tongue-tied and shit,” she purred, turning in a languid circle and showing off.

“Well, you steal my breath away. Gorgeous.”

Teena preened for another moment and took a step closer to Rylan, her voice turning serious. “So how is he?”

Rylan sighed. “Physically, he’s fine. Got the wires off yesterday. His jaw is sore, and he still has to eat soft foods, but for the most part, he’s okay. Emotionally, well, he keeps saying he’s letting Corey down, that he ‘owes’ him. Blaming himself for everything.” Rylan pounded his fist on his thigh in frustration. “God, some things never change.”

Teena shook her head, her bangle earrings winking in the light. “It’s complicated, sweetie. Corey took a chance on Scott—on us—and we do owe him. I don’t know where either of us would be today if it wasn’t for him.”

“I get that, Teena, I do. But my question is, how long is he going to have this hold on you? How long until this fucking debt is considered repaid?”

Teena didn’t reply, and Rylan went on, “Scott is fantastic at what he does, and he has every reason to be proud, but this—” He gestured around the club. “—can’t last forever. Shit, what just happened to him should be a goddamn wake-up call, right? And not just for Scott, for Corey, too. Putting all his eggs in Scott’s basket and making him responsible for every success and failure is so unfair I can’t even wrap my mind around it.”

“Rylan—”

“What if Scott, plain and simple, hadn’t gotten the MC₂ endorsement just because they chose someone else? There was no iron-clad guarantee any way you look at it, and Corey implying he’s a failure because of circumstances totally beyond his control is getting my panties in a twist.”

Teena propped her arm on Rylan’s shoulder, leaning against him. “It’s not personal, though. It’s business, baby, and I think what it comes down to, Scott is so amazing, it’s hard for everybody to remember sometimes that he’s human.”

“Fuck business. He’s human, all right, and apparently shit is allowed to happen to everyone but him.” Rylan grimaced. He leaned over and planted a kiss on Teena’s cheek. “Sorry to vent. What doesn’t kill us makes us stronger, right?”

An unfathomable look crossed her face. “No, that’s where you’re wrong, Rylan. Take it from me, and Scott, for that matter. What doesn’t kill us just…doesn’t kill us.” She pulled away from him. “Gotta get back to work. See ya later, love.”

Rylan wandered in search of Scott, spying him standing in the hallway outside the conference room with Corey.

“Pete will stay the host of Fantasy Friday until further notice,” Corey was saying as Rylan approached. “You know you’re not up to standards.”

Rylan saw a muscle tick in Scott’s jaw before he made a visible effort to relax. “Yeah, I know.”

“The weight loss, the lack of muscle tone.” Corey grimaced. “Your skin looks coarse and pasty. Everything about Pete is on point, and he’s packing the house, so I’m keeping him on for now.” Whatever Corey saw on Scott’s face made him put his hand on his shoulder.

“Pete’s just a placeholder. You know that, baby,” Corey said reassuringly. “Take the next few weeks, a month, whatever, to get your ass back in the gym. Work on your base tan, your clean eating, and you’ll be back up to par in no time.”

“Thanks,” Scott murmured, and Corey gave him a gentle pat on the cheek before disappearing into his office. Scott stood there, his fists clenched, staring up at the ceiling.

“He’s right, Rylan.”

Rylan didn’t say anything, and Scott walked over to him, that old telltale whiteness around his lips. “See?” He waved his hand at the promotional posters on the walls. Rylan stared at the larger-than-life images of Scott in the briefest of underwear, his torso lean and ripped, his skin glowing.

“That’s what people expect when they come here,” Scott grated. “That. Not a pasty white eyesore.” He turned and made as if to slam his hand into the wall, pulling his punch at the last moment, instead rapping it lightly with his knuckles. “I’m so fucking useless right now.”

Rylan laid his palm between Scott’s shoulder blades, feeling the tension radiating off him in waves.

“Let’s just go home, Scott.”

Scott gave a terse nod, pushing away from the wall before striding out the door toward the parking lot. Rylan had to trot to keep up with him, and when he got to the car, Scott was already sliding in behind the wheel.

“Gonna drop you at the condo,” Scott grunted, “then hit the gym.”

“Okay.”

Rylan clutched the door handle as Scott drove like a bat out of hell, making short work of the distance to the apartment. He barely came to a stop at the curb, almost pushing Rylan out before screeching away, a horn blaring from somewhere as Scott’s taillights rapidly disappeared into the distance.

Shit. Rylan blew out a breath and trudged through the lobby, waving to George and climbing on the elevator. He stared morosely at the mirrored walls as he made the swift ascent up to the fourteenth floor.

Elizabeth was just pulling her own front door shut when Rylan emerged into the hallway.

“Hi, Rylan!” she called with a cheery wave. “How are you?”

They made small talk for a moment before Elizabeth’s face brightened. “Oh! Scott got his wires off yesterday, right? I have just the thing.” She unlocked her door and hurried inside, reappearing a moment later with a casserole dish covered in foil, which she presented to Rylan.

“Shepherd’s pie,” she said proudly. “Mashed potatoes, ground beef, carrots, and peas. If he smooshes the veggies up with a spoon and mixes it all together real well, he should be able to swallow it easily. Good hearty food to put some meat back on those bones.”

After thanking her profusely, Rylan headed inside to put the casserole dish away before grabbing his laptop and settling at the kitchen island to edit the pictures of the bachelorette and her squad. When he was satisfied with them at last, he emailed them to Corey for final approval.

It was interesting, he thought. In Miami, most of the gay clubs refused to host straight-girl hen parties, especially in the days before marriage equality when a group of people flaunting a right another group of people didn’t have in their own space was downright offensive. Corey had an open-door policy for that sort of thing, apparently.

He put work aside and opened his own Instagram account, chuckling when he saw a few comments from Gabriel on his Camelback Mountain hike pics.

 

Living vicariously through you, man! Take me to the Grand Canyon already, would ya? Not like I’m ever gonna get to Arizona.

 

Rylan typed out a quick reply.

 

You know you’re welcome out here anytime, G. My apartment’s a piece of shit but the couch is all yours! I’d love to show you around.

 

He spent some time on his other social media accounts, until his growling stomach reminded him it was almost dinnertime. Rylan pulled the casserole out of the fridge and popped it into a low-temp oven, and before long, a mouthwatering aroma filled the air. He fixed himself a huge bowl of salad to go with the shepherd’s pie, rinsing off the cutting board and knife just as he heard Scott’s key in the lock.

“Hey, you hungry?” Rylan called to him. “Elizabeth made something delicious for us. I tell you, that woman in a treasure.”

Scott walked up behind him as Rylan pulled the dish from the oven and ceremoniously peeled the foil back. “Shepherd’s pie, the world’s most famous comfort food.”

Scott stared down over his shoulder as Rylan turned his head and breathed deeply of the scent of clean sweat, wanting nothing more than to drop to his knees, yank down Scott’s gym shorts, and bury his face in—

He jumped as Scott snatched up the oven mitts, grabbed the hot dish, and in one swift motion dumped the entire contents in the trash.

“What the actual fuck?” Rylan exclaimed, staring at Scott in utter shock. “That was our dinner!”

“More like a fucking carb nightmare,” Scott growled. “Mashed potatoes, starchy vegetables.” He shuddered. “I can’t eat that shit.” Pulling a bottle of water from the fridge, he guzzled it as he stalked toward his bedroom.

Rylan was right on his heels, sputtering. “Maybe you can’t eat that shit, but I can! Did you even think about that before you dumped my dinner in the trash too? What the fuck, Scott?”

Scott kicked his shorts away and strode naked to the shower. “Sorry,” he grunted, sounding anything but. He gave the faucets a vicious turn and climbed in, groaning as the hot water hit him. “God, that feels good.”

Rylan shook his head in disgust and retreated to the kitchen for the bowl of salad, sprinkling some oil and vinegar on it before he ate it standing up at the counter. A few minutes later, Scott padded in, hair damp and wearing a soft, worn pair of jeans with the top button open, revealing the waistband of his underwear and a small slice of pubic hair that had Rylan’s mouth watering all over again.

“What’re you gonna eat, then?” Rylan demanded, dragging his eyes away. “You can’t chew salad. The shepherd’s pie was fine for now until everything gets back to normal. Jesus.”

Scott yanked the pantry door open and pulled out a blender. “Diet has to be my priority, Rylan, and I have to watch my fucking carbs, okay? I’ll just make a Greek yogurt shake with protein powder and peanut butter.”

Rylan rolled his eyes, stuffing salad into his mouth. Scott grabbed some almond milk from the fridge, saying, “Hey, you know, I’ve been thinking, you should probably move back to your own place before too much longer.”

Rylan forgot all about mapping Scott’s abdomen with his tongue. He put the salad bowl down, his appetite gone.

“You—want me to go?” he asked, trying to keep the hurt out of his voice.

“Well, I’m fine, so there’s no reason for you to stay,” Scott dumped a tub of yogurt in the blender. “You’re paying rent on an apartment you’re not living in. That’s stupid, Ry.”

“It’s not stupid,” Rylan argued. “I was glad to do it, because you needed me.”

Scott turned his back on him, putting the lid on the blender. “See, that’s the thing. I don’t really need you anymore.” His tone was offhand, careless.

Rylan blinked. “Right,” he forced out through stiff lips. “Of course you don’t.”

“I’m busy, you’re busy, so it’s not like we’ll be seeing all that much of each other anyway from now on, right?”

Scott turned the blender on, making further conversation impossible. Rylan spun away and headed to his room, intending to grab his bag so he could pack and get the fuck out, but instead he sank down onto the edge of the bed and stared at the floor with unseeing eyes. Shit.

The blender whirred loudly, followed by an oppressive silence. Rylan heaved a ragged sigh. It was only six p.m., but fuck packing and going back to his place right now. Scott would have to put up with him for one more night, and then tomorrow he’d get out of his hair.

He stood, intending to go put the remainder of his salad away and clean the kitchen, when his phone chimed softly from the nightstand and the lock screen lit up with an email notification. He tapped it, giving a pleased exclamation when he saw the email was from Garrett, his fourteen-year-old stepbrother.

 

Hey, Ry!

 

How’s it going? We’re all fine. Jaxon wanted me to tell you he got his learner’s permit last week. Donna lets him drive a lot when we go somewhere, which is kinda scary, but he does a pretty good job. Gavin’s crushing on a girl in his class, and he made me promise not to tell anyone. You’re cool, tho. I know you won’t make fun of him. Me, not much going on. Over the summer I’m gonna go to the Y and start learning how to be a junior lifeguard. I can’t wait! When I’m 16, maybe they’ll hire me.

 

Rylan smiled, enjoying Garrett’s breezy updates. Then he got to the point.

 

Jaxon got your email about Scott. OMG it’s crazy you ran into him after so long! This makes me sound like a prick, and pls don’t tell Scott I said it, but I’d almost forgotten about him. You know? I just don’t think about him much anymore, and it’s weird cuz I cried so hard when you told me he wasn’t ever coming back.

 

Rylan flinched, remembering that night, all three boys huddled in the bed with him as they each came to terms with the fact Scott was indeed gone for good.

 

Jaxon doesn’t wanna talk to him, Ry. He says it’s ancient history, and he’s moved on, that Scott didn’t care enough about us to stay, so why should Jaxon care anything about him now? Gavin and I are cool with it, if Scott wants to text us or something, say hi. He has to make the first move, tho, cuz we don’t wanna put ourselves out there only to get rejected by him again. It’s okay to give him our numbers.

 

Well, gotta run. Write back when you can, yo.

 

Later, Garrett

 

Rylan read the email through twice more, wincing. He’d been pretty fucking naïve in assuming the boys would blithely welcome Scott back into their lives without a second thought. Back then Heather had refused to talk about his disappearance with them, pleading ignorance, so it had been up to Rylan to try to explain to three confused, grief-stricken kids why their older brother had packed up and left them without so much as a good-bye. Even with the conscious efforts he’d made to avoid bad-mouthing anyone, the boys had obviously come away with the impression Scott hadn’t cared about them at all.

Rylan headed for the kitchen and grabbed the salad bowl. He scraped the half-eaten contents into the trash on top of the congealed shepherd’s pie, grimacing anew at the waste. Well, none of this is your problem. It’s between the boys and Scott to figure out. You’re just the goddamned messenger. Again.

Rylan tied the trash bag closed with swift, angry motions, took it out into the hallway, and dropped it down the chute, letting the metal door slam shut with a satisfying clang. It sucked ass to always be the messenger, but he wouldn’t put himself in the middle, not this time. Scott was on his own, as he’d just made it crystal clear he wanted to be, pushing Rylan away like—

Like he did everyone else.

Rylan’s fury and hurt suddenly dissipated, and he dropped his arms to his sides, slumping. He of all people knew Scott’s capacity for throwing up walls, especially when he felt threatened or rejected. Typical Scott behavior, learned at Heather’s knee and honed to a fine art by the shallow, superficial world he lived in.

Rylan sighed, going back inside the apartment to climb into a hot shower, going over Scott’s statements from earlier.

You should probably move back. There’s no reason for you to stay. I don’t need you.

If Rylan looked at those words through the lens of their shared history instead of his own hurt and disappointment, they took on a whole different meaning.

I’m sure you don’t want to be here. I can’t imagine you’d want to stay.

Rylan closed his eyes.

Let me reject you before you reject me.

He turned the faucets off with a sense of resolve. That shit might work on Lance and the countless other men and women who didn’t bother to look past Scott’s pretty face to recognize the vulnerability that lurked beneath the surface, but it fucking wouldn’t work on him.

Rylan dried off and brushed his teeth, pulling on a pair of black underwear before padding to Scott’s room. There were no lights on, but the TV still flickered, the sound low, almost inaudible. Scott was in bed, awake, his arms crossed behind his head and one knee drawn up, the thin sheet pooled low around his hips.

As Rylan approached, Scott continued to stare at the ceiling, his face impassive, lips tight. Rylan hesitated and then slowly reached down and pulled his side of the covers back. Scott shot him a brief glance, and Rylan wondered if he only imagined the relief that glowed for an instant in his eyes as he slid in next to him.

They lay there, not touching, not speaking, some police procedural droning on and on, until Scott clicked the TV off and turned on his side, facing away.

Rylan’s resolve wavered for an instant, and he bit his lip. Scott was practically vibrating with tension, his shoulders so tight Rylan could see the muscles bunching under the skin. He took a deep breath before scooting up behind him, inching his arm around Scott’s waist until his palm was resting over Scott’s thundering heart.

Rylan pressed a kiss to his shoulder. “I don’t want to go home, okay?”

Scott didn’t reply, but Rylan could feel his body relaxing, little by little, until he was resting fully back against Rylan, his breathing slowing. Rylan buried his face in the side of Scott’s neck, holding him close until they both fell asleep.

* * *

Scott arched his back and stretched, groaning. “What time is it?” he mumbled, scrubbing his hands over his face.

“About seven a.m.” Rylan was propped up on some pillows next to him, his computer on his lap. Scott rolled to his side and watched him type busily for a moment.

“What’re you doing?”

“Editing some photos, returning some emails. I’ve been up for about an hour.” Rylan’s hair was sticking up everywhere, total bedhead, a dark stubble shadowing his jaw, and Scott could see fingerprint smudges on his glasses.

He looked so beautiful it hurt.

Scott cleared his throat. “Any more coffee?” The mouthwatering smell emanating from Rylan’s steaming cup on the nightstand is what had awoken him in the first place. Rylan picked up his mug, took a sip, and went back to his work.

“Mmm-hmm. Fresh pot.”

With another stretch, Scott pushed off the bed and shuffled to the kitchen to get some, and when he walked back into the room, Rylan glanced up from his computer and froze, his mouth dropping open.

Scott stopped midstep. “What?”

“Those—those underwear.” Rylan choked out, and a flush spread from his chest up into his face. “Jesus.”

Scott looked down. After his shower the night before, he’d mindlessly grabbed the first pair his hand landed on, not paying any attention. The tiny briefs were leopard print, in a satiny fabric that outlined everything and left nothing to the imagination.

“Oh.” He shrugged, reaching down to give himself an unnecessary adjustment, enjoying how Rylan’s flush deepened.

“So sexy. And all mine.” Rylan’s voice was low and husky, his eyes glued to every movement of Scott’s hand.

“For now anyway.” Scott had no idea why he said that, and he regretted the words immediately, wishing with all his heart he could take them back as the smile died on Rylan’s lips.

He went back to his computer. “Right.”

Scott hesitated before climbing back into bed and pushing some pillows up behind him. He sipped his coffee once before putting it aside. Rylan typed on, his motions sharp, abrupt.

“Rylan, I—”

“You can stop this anytime, you know,” Rylan interrupted. “I’m on to you.”

Scott stared at him. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about this knee-jerk reaction you have to test me, to push me, see how much I’ll take before I tell you to go fuck yourself and walk out.”

Scott scowled, crossing his arms over his chest like a mutinous child. “I don’t do that.” He threw Rylan a challenging look. “Maybe I really am just a fucking asshole.”

Rylan snorted. “No ‘maybe’ about it.”

“Definitely not boyfriend material.”

“Assholes seldom are.”

“I’m difficult to love.”

“The worst.” Rylan suddenly tossed his computer aside. “Okay, you’ve convinced me. I’m out.”

He made to rise from the bed, and Scott lunged, grabbing him around the waist and pinning Rylan beneath him.

“You’re not going anywhere,” he growled.

Rylan linked his arms around Scott’s neck, looking up at him solemnly. “For now anyway.”

Scott winced, dropping his forehead to Rylan’s shoulder. “Harsh,” he mumbled. “I’m sorry. I’m a total dick.”

Rylan rubbed his back. “That does seem to be your default.” He paused and then went on, his voice gentle, “I’m here because I want to be, Scott, that’s it. Not because I feel sorry for you or to feed my ego by fucking a hot guy or any other bullshit reason you can come up with.”

Scott flushed. “I guess it’s no secret I’m an insecure motherfucker.”

Rylan’s eyes were warm, affectionate. “Nope. And pushing people away first seems to have become a habit for you. What was it you said about Lance? That he was a nice guy and he cared about you?”

“He got clingy,” Scott muttered. “I don’t like having to constantly reassure people. It makes me grumpy.”

“Tell you what. Let’s start as we mean to go on, okay? I’ll try not to ask for more than you’re willing or able to give, and you’ll try to look at our relationship differently than ingrained old habits tell you to. That’s all. We’ll just try.”

“Okay.” Scott felt completely overwhelmed, but the smile that broke across Rylan’s face warmed him from the inside out, and he didn’t resist as Rylan pushed on his shoulders, rolling Scott to his back.

“I’m really curious about something,” Rylan whispered, and Scott could only lie there in a pleasurable haze as Rylan kissed him roughly, biting at his lips, his neck, tonguing his nipples, until Scott was moving his hips restlessly on the bed.

Rylan sat back on his heels, his lips swollen, his breathing fast. “That’s what I thought would happen.” He was staring at Scott’s crotch, and Scott glanced down to see that his excited cock had breached the waistband of his low-slung underwear, the slick purple head just peeking out over the top.

Rylan bent down and trailed his tongue over Scott’s abdomen until he was hovering over the wet tip, his lips parted. “So sexy,” he breathed, not making any further move, which threatened to drive Scott out of his mind.

“Please,” he begged shamelessly, reaching up to thread his fingers through Rylan’s hair.

Rylan smirked at him and licked the head with a broad swipe of his tongue. “Mmm,” he purred. “You taste so fucking good.” He took Scott just inside his mouth, letting him feel the moist inner lining of his lips, his wicked tongue circling, probing, teasing.

“Oh God, suck me, Ry,” Scott whimpered. “Please, baby. It’s all for you. Only for you.”

With a wink, Rylan pulled the front of his underwear down, snugging the waistband just under Scott’s balls, making everything jut out obscenely. Rylan hummed in pleasure at the sight before swallowing Scott to the root, the heat and pressure making Scott arch and cry out.

Rylan pushed him to the edge, again and again, refusing to let him go over. Scott’s pleading moans rang off the ceiling, and Rylan rolled to the side, jacking Scott’s dick leisurely, the saliva coating it giving Rylan a sweet glide. Scott writhed, his hands twisted in the sheets.

“You’re killing me,” he gasped. “I need to come. Let me come for you.”

Rylan released him, crawling up Scott’s body to kiss him. Scott eagerly lapped up the salty tang clinging to his lips, reaching down to take himself in hand, giving a yelp of protest when Rylan pried his fingers off.

“No touching,” he growled. “Mine.”

Scott shoved his underwear the rest of the way off and then lifted and spread his knees. “Please.”

Rylan slid his hand down Scott’s chest and belly, bypassing his cock to tease his tight, aching balls with his fingertips, until Scott was gasping, his hips fucking the air. At last Rylan took pity on him, jerking him hard and fast while he sucked and bit at a sensitive nipple, a groan wrenching from deep in Scott’s chest as he came with pulsing spurts.

With a hiss, Rylan straddled him. “I’m gonna shoot all over you,” he grated, and Scott growled filthy encouragement as Rylan stroked himself to completion, loving the sight of Rylan’s pleasure, the feel of his hot spunk jetting all over Scott’s own wet skin, the sound of his helpless moans.

When Rylan’s spasms finally died away, he collapsed at Scott’s side, chest heaving. Scott hugged him close, roaming his lips over Rylan’s face until their breathing calmed.

With a last gentle kiss, Scott whispered, “Gonna take a shower.” Rylan nodded, and Scott pulled away with reluctance, wanting nothing more than to wallow in bed with him all day.

As the hot water beat down on him, Scott basked in the afterglow, his body still tingling. He soaped himself lazily, enjoying a warm contentment that had nothing to do with his recent orgasm and everything to do with Rylan. There was something strangely comforting in being called out on your shit, especially when it wasn’t by someone looking to criticize or tear you down, but by someone who simply—knew you. Who saw you. Who cared.

He got out of the shower and wrapped a towel around his waist, slapping on some deodorant and brushing his teeth. When he returned to the bedroom, Rylan was sprawled out on his stomach, sound asleep. Scott perched on the edge of the bed and watched him for a moment before brushing Rylan’s hair off his forehead with gentle fingers.

“I’ll be back as soon as I can, okay? Don’t go anywhere.”

A soft snore was his only answer, and Scott moved to his closet to pack his duffle bag. A few hours of lifting in the gym awaited, along with a meeting with his nutritionist, grocery shopping, a cardio session…

He cast a final look of longing toward Rylan before letting himself quietly out the door. His phone chirped while he was on the elevator, the ringtone distinctive.

“Hey, Minh,” he answered with a smile.

“’Sup, ho?” came Minh’s breezy response. “Headed to the gym?”

“Yeah.”

“’Kay, just checking. See ya there.”

Twenty minutes later, Scott strolled into the free-weight area and immediately heard his name being called. He turned to see Minh waving to him from a set of mats laid along one corner of the huge room in front of some floor-to-ceiling mirrors.

“Come stretch with us before you lift!”

Scott walked over and dropped down next to Minh, reclining back on his elbows and watching as Minh went into a wide seated straddle, a woman dressed in a bright-pink sports bra and tiny Lycra shorts leaning on his upper back to press his chest forward into the mat.

“God, that feels good, Alyssa,” Minh gasped, taking a deep breath and relaxing even more into the stretch.

As always, Scott marveled at Minh’s flexibility, admiring how he flowed through a series of ever more demanding stretches, Alyssa using her body weight to make him work even harder for it.

At last, Minh sat up and blew out a breath, his silky black hair damp with sweat, his face gleaming with exertion. He grabbed a nearby towel and mopped up, giving Alyssa a high five.

“Damn, you pole dancers really know how to turn a bitch out.”

Alyssa winked at him before walking over to one of the nearby poles set up for practice, mounting one, and going into some sort of complicated upside-down handstand, her body lithe and graceful.

“Hey, Scotty.” Minh leaned over and gave him a smacking kiss on the lips. “Good to see you. Come on, let’s get you warmed up.”

Scott let Minh walk him through a simpler version of the stretches he’d just gone through, groaning as his muscles protested every move.

“Jesus, how long has it been?” Minh said laughingly. “You’re so tight.”

Scott grunted a laugh through the pain, looking up at Minh, one of his feet braced on Minh’s shoulder as Minh pushed his knee back toward his chest. “Ooh, baby. I love it when you talk dirty to me.”

Minh pretended to gag. “Gross.” He swatted Scott’s knee before letting him go and sinking down into an effortless split.

“Show-off,” Scott muttered, and Minh laughed.

“Gotta keep that flexibility so I can spread these legs for my sugar daddy.” He tossed his head. “Someday. When I meet him.”

“You’re shameless.” Scott let his own legs fall flat, sprawling out. Minh did the same, and they lay there watching the pole dancers work out, the music from the gym loudspeakers throbbing around them. Minh pushed up on one elbow and peered down at him.

“Don’t look now, but Madison just walked in, and she is glaring at you like you wouldn’t believe.” He pursed his lips like a disapproving old aunt. “You two broke up months ago, dude. What the eff did you do?”

Scott glanced over at the woman in question, grimacing. “Oh. Well, that wasn’t exactly my finest hour.” He hesitated, and Minh rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, I guessed that much all by myself, especially from the way she was trashing you on social media right after.” His tone held a thread of curiosity. “Seriously, Scotty, if looks could kill, you’d be taking a dirt nap right about now.”

He paused with an expectant air, and when Scott didn’t say anything, heaved a theatrical sigh. “Fine, don’t kiss and tell.”

“What is there to tell, Minh? I legit fucked up a good thing. Big surprise.”

Minh sat up and crossed his legs, leaning in close. “So why not confide in your ol’ aunty? Get it off your chest.” He gave Scott a reproving look. “You know it won’t go any further.”

“God, I know that.” Scott sat up, too. “It’s just—well, I’m a dick. You think I want to advertise that?”

“Baby, it’s me. I know you better than anyone, except for maybe our sexy little photographer boy.” He leered. “Who I imagine is right now warm and sated in your bed, leaving that delicious silver fox in need of my wide-spread legs, er, I mean, comforting arms.”

“Jesus.” Scott grimaced. “If you can get Chris out of the picture permanently, I’ll love you forever.”

“Hmm.” Minh shot him a speculative look. “On it. As for our gorgeous Madison?” He waved one hand in a get-on-with-it gesture. “Last I heard about her, she was spending almost every weekend at your place, and all of a sudden she’s calling you a ‘douchenozzle’ on Twitter.”

Scott gave an uncomfortable shrug. “She wanted me to meet her parents when they came to visit,” he mumbled, feeling a remembered misery welling up.

“So? You were heading toward getting serious. That’s kind of, you know, the next step.”

Scott stared at him before he spoke slowly and distinctly. “They’re lawyers, Minh. From DC. Sophisticated, proud of Madison, who’s a successful small business owner in her own right.”

“She owns a fitness pole dancing studio, doesn’t she?” At Scott’s nod, Minh went on impatiently, “I still don’t see the problem.”

“What don’t you see?” Scott hissed. “What would we have had in common? What would we possibly have had to talk about? I would have embarrassed the shit out of her, her uneducated loser of a boyfriend.” He swallowed. “I couldn’t deal, so when she asked me to meet them, I laughed and said, ‘Is that really a thing now? Introducing the parents to your latest fuck buddy? Guess I’d better invest in a new suit, I’m gonna have a lot of parents to meet.’”

The look Minh gave him was ineffably sad. “Oh, sweetheart.”

“It wasn’t true. She was the only one.”

“But it worked, and she left hating you.” Minh put his hand on Scott’s arm. “Did it ever occur to you that maybe they wouldn’t have seen a loser, but a man who made their little girl happy and that would have been enough?”

“But maybe not, Minh.”

“And now you’ll never know.” Minh stood and reached down, helping Scott to his feet. “Then came Lance and that shitshow. If I didn’t adore you so much, I’d fucking drive over to your place and warn Rylan away right now, but I have the distinct feeling that sweet boy can take care of himself.”

A fond smile quirked Scott’s lips as he remembered his and Rylan’s conversation from earlier that morning. “He has my number and then some, Minh. He’s not letting me get away with any shit, believe me.”

“Well, good for him. I knew there was a reason I liked him.”

“Me, too.” Suddenly Scott couldn’t wait to see him again. “Fuck working out. I want to take Rylan away somewhere for the weekend.”

Minh’s eyes bugged. “Now there’s a sentence I never thought I’d hear you say, ‘Fuck working out.’” He clutched his chest and collapsed down to the mat again, gasping dramatically for air. “I think the world must be ending.”

Scott laughed. “Shut up. Where should I take him? San Diego? Grand Canyon? He’d probably want to take pictures.”

Minh pursed his lips, looking thoughtful. “Well, if it were me, I’ve always wanted to go up to Sedona, you know? The red rocks? The artists’ community?”

“Sounds perfect.” Scott paused before asking impulsively, “Want to come with us?”

Minh opened and closed his mouth a few times in apparent shock. “God, I’d love to.” He narrowed his eyes. “Unless you’re tryin’ to use me so he won’t think it’s a romantic getaway or something, that it’s a ‘bro trip.’ Fuck that shit.” His tone was belligerent, and Scott laughed, pulling him to his feet and into a huge hug.

“Nope,” he said. “I just thought it’d be fun to spend time with my two favorite people, that’s all.”

Minh’s lips trembled. “Little grasshopper, he can be taught,” he gasped, dropping the act and cracking up when Scott gave him a shove. “Lemme go grab my stuff, and let’s get out of here. I’ll call Corey and tell him I’m taking a couple personal days.”

He flitted off, and Scott headed back to the free-weight section to snag his own duffle from where he’d tossed it in a corner. As he walked toward the entrance, he caught sight of Madison patiently coaxing an older man through some therapeutic yoga stretches. Despite owning her own studio, Scott knew she volunteered a few hours a month here at the gym, helping people suffering from chronic pain who couldn’t afford her boutique rates. She really was a good person. He sighed, remembering the look of devastation on her face as, with a few well-chosen words, Scott had deliberately destroyed what hadn’t even had a chance to get off the ground.

Self-loathing choked him. He hadn’t deserved her, and he sure as hell didn’t deserve Rylan. He shouldn’t be planning a trip with him, what he should be doing was heading home to break up with him, because hurting him a little now was better than hurting him a lot later.

“Stop overthinking things.” Minh’s soft voice at his shoulder made him jump, and he whirled around. “You said it best, Rylan has your number. Relax, be yourself, and try to enjoy what you have with him. You’re not gonna fuck it up.” Minh snorted. “Somehow, I don’t think he’ll let you.”

“But what if I—”

“Stop that shit right now, Scott Ashworth,” Minh said fiercely. “Let’s go get your man, head north, and have the time of our lives. Period. The end.”

He tugged on Scott’s arm, but Scott planted his feet stubbornly. “I need to talk to Madi for a minute. I want to apologize to her.” He stared at Minh, daring him to laugh or make fun of him, but all Minh did was pat Scott on the arm.

“Okay. Meet you at your place in a few.” He moved off.

“Don’t tell him my surprise,” Scott called after him, “or I’ll kick your ass.”

Minh extended his middle finger at him flippantly. “Wouldn’t dream of it, my love. Wouldn’t dream of it.”

* * *

Rylan looked up from his computer as a key sounded in the lock, wondering why Scott would be home so soon. Confusion turned into a surprised pleasure when Minh opened the door and walked into the living room to flop down next to him on the couch.

“Wow, hey,” he said, leaning into Minh’s smacking kiss on the cheek. He set his computer aside. “What’re you doing here?”

Minh winked at him. “Sudden change of plans,” he said cryptically. “You’ll see.” He bounced back up. “Come talk to me while I shower.” He lifted one arm and sniffed his armpit, wrinkling his nose. “Jesus, I stink.”

Minh pulled his tank top over his head and tossed it negligently to the floor, moving off toward the bedroom, stripping as he went. Rylan followed, trying not to stare as Minh, now stark naked, pulled a small toiletry kit out from under Scott’s sink and extracted a razor from it.

“What were you working on so busily?” Minh called to him, turning the water on in the sink, the sound drowning out his next words. Rylan hesitated for a moment, and then, with an internal shrug, went to lean against the doorjamb to the bathroom.

He gulped, letting his eyes wander freely over Minh’s incredible body. He was lean and wiry with a dancer’s slight build, his brown skin smooth and almost hairless, calf muscles defined from spending so much time in high heels. He wasn’t ripped, but instead was sleek and toned, buttocks high and rounded. Rylan cleared his throat, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I couldn’t hear you. What?”

“I asked what you were working on,” Minh repeated, his voice muffled as he contorted his cheek to drag the razor over it. “You looked so intent.”

Rylan shrugged. “Just updating my resume, you know? So I have it ready to go if and when something comes up.”

Minh turned and pointed the razor at him. “You’re never leaving Spectrum, so why bother? You make Teena look way too good, and baby, she’s all about looking good.”

Rylan chuckled. “You should see the pictures I took the other night. Hot.” He made a show of fanning himself, laughing as Minh advanced on him, dripping water and shaving cream everywhere.

“Go get your computer and show me right now!”

“After your shower, oh vain one. Besides, I’m a little too, uh, distracted right now to concentrate.”

Minh smirked at him, tossed his razor into the sink, and moved to turn on the shower. “Fine. You’re such a fuckin’ tease.”

“Takes one to know one.” Rylan didn’t bother to hide his perusal as Minh stepped under the spray and soaped up. He jumped as arms suddenly wrapped around his waist from behind, warm lips nuzzling his neck.

“Enjoying the view?” Scott whispered in his ear, sucking the lobe.

Rylan leaned back against him. “Immensely,” he admitted. He took in Scott’s sparkling eyes, the amused quirk of his lips. “But I like this one much, much more.”

“Mmm. Good answer.” Scott nipped at Rylan’s lower lip, his tongue soothing the little sting. Rylan groaned, turning to wrap his arms around Scott’s neck and lift his face invitingly. Scott kept the kisses light, just brushing Rylan’s lips with his own, chuckling as Rylan clutched at him in frustration.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish,” Scott breathed, “unless you want an audience. Minh likes to watch.”

“Let him.” Rylan licked Scott’s collarbone, sliding his hands down the back of Scott’s shorts to cup his ass before digging his fingers into the tight globes. Scott caught his breath, his eyes darkening, and he bent his head, about to capture Rylan’s mouth when his phone vibrated in his pocket, startling them both.

“Shit.” Scott pulled away and dug the phone out. “I have to take this.”

Rylan collapsed against the wall, his body throbbing, and he gave a loud squeak when Minh suddenly flicked water into his face. “Got a cold shower right here if you need one, lover boy,” he called wickedly, scanning his eyes over the tent in Rylan’s pants. “Or a hot mouth. Get over here and take your pick.”

Rylan groaned, reaching down to adjust himself. “You’re dangerous.” He threw Minh one last rueful glance as he headed after Scott, Minh’s low laughter following him out.

When he got to the kitchen, Scott was leaning against the counter, writing something down on a notepad.

“That sounds perfect,” he was telling the person on the phone. “Yeah, for sure. I’ll let you know how it goes. Thanks, dude.” He hung up and tossed the phone to the counter. Rylan sidled closer to try to get a look at the paper, but Scott flipped it upside down. “No peeking.”

Rylan gave him a mock pout, and Scott grabbed Rylan around the waist to pull him flush against him. “Stick that sexy lower lip out like that again,” he growled, “and you’ll be on your knees with a mouthful of cock so fast it’ll make your head spin.”

Before Rylan could even react to that, or test him on it, Scott gave him a smacking kiss. “And that would be fucking awesome, but totally ruin my surprise.” He let go of him. “Go pack a bag, enough for three days. Jeans, tennis shoes, a light jacket. We can run by your place to get stuff if we need to.”

Rylan blinked. “And Corey’s okay with—”

“All cleared with him,” Scott interrupted, “you and Minh both. Minh’s coming with us, by the way.”

“Wow. Okay, then. Going to, uh, pack.” Mystified but enjoying Scott’s glee, Rylan headed to the guest room and pulled his duffle out from under the bed, stuffing it with clothing, a hoodie, and his travel kit. When he emerged, Minh was out of the shower and dressed in cargo shorts and a T-shirt, guzzling a bottle of water and practically bouncing with excitement.

“Don’t you need to run home and pack?” Rylan asked, curious, and Minh swallowed the last of the water before wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Nah, honey, I keep an itty-bitty suitcase full of essentials in the back of my car at all times. A bitch gotta be prepared for anything, you know.”

Rylan gave a solemn nod. “Clearly.”

“Got your camera shit, Ry?” Scott trotted in, his own bag slung over his shoulder, and Rylan grabbed his backpack and double-checked the contents, giving him a thumbs-up.

Scott flipped off the overhead lights. “Let’s roll.”

“Mr. Ashworth, Mr. Mahoney, Mr. Nguyen.” George nodded at them as they trooped past the concierge desk a few minutes later.

“Hey, Georgie, how’s it hangin’?” Minh called back to him, giving him a wink and doing a little shimmy. “Leaving my car in a visitors’ slot till Monday night, okay?”

“Of course, Mr. Nguyen.” George lifted his hand in a small wave, his face as impassive as ever.

“He wants me,” Minh declared, and when Rylan snorted, gave him a wounded look. “He does! Number one on my list of sugar daddy candidates. Smiled at me once and everything.”

“Don’t forget he tossed out that asshole who called you names,” Scott reminded him.

Minh squealed and shivered in delight. “Ooh, yes! So protective.” He glanced at Rylan as they walked through the parking garage toward Scott’s convertible. “I was meeting Scott here, dressed as Teena, looking fabulous, and some jerk called me—well, let’s just say they were some choice Asian slurs.”

Rylan winced, and Minh went on, “I wasn’t even in the building but on the sidewalk just outside. George came out, and when the guy wouldn’t stop, he had him chased away by a huge, scary security man.” He heaved a theatrical sigh. “Then he turned to me and asked, ‘Are you all right, Ms. Teeze?’ When I said yeah, he said, ‘Very good,’ and escorted me all the way inside to the elevator. My hero.”

Rylan chuckled as he batted his eyelashes and pretended to swoon. “Well, no wonder he’s at the top of your sugar daddy list. I’m sorry I doubted you.”

Scott popped the trunk for them to stow their bags, and when Rylan started to climb into the front passenger seat, Minh grabbed his arm. “Nuh-uh, honey. You’re sitting in the back with me so I don’t feel like such a third wheel on this trip. It’ll be bad enough when y’all canoodling in bed and I’m all by my lonesome.”

Scott rolled his eyes, and Rylan tossed his backpack up front before squeezing into the cramped back seat. Scott powered the top down, and before long, they were on the interstate headed north.

After the traffic thinned out some, Rylan leaned forward and put his lips to Scott’s ear. “So where are we going?”

“Mmm,” Scott said with a smile. “You’ll figure it out soon enough. It’s not too far.”

Rylan rested his chin on Scott’s shoulder for a moment, admiring his strong, tanned arms, his capable hands on the wheel. He breathed in his enticing citrusy scent, not able to resist a quick nuzzle of the soft skin behind his ear.

Scott shivered, his lips parting, and he reached back with one hand and cupped Rylan’s cheek. “Sit back and let me drive, Ry. You’re way too distracting.”

Rylan chuckled and gave him one last kiss before collapsing back into the seat and catching Minh’s disgusted look. “What?”

“You two makin’ me sick, that’s what.” Minh pretended to gag, but his eyes were soft with affection. “I have to say, I never thought I’d get to see my Scotty in love. Pretty fucking awesome.”

Rylan gaped at him. “In love?”

Minh gave a sage nod. “He’s so far gone over you, it ain’t even funny. I doubt he even recognizes it yet.”

Rylan stared at the back of Scott’s head, at his black hair ruffling in the wind, the side of his chiseled jaw, and felt a lump well up in his throat. “You, uh, you know him really well, don’t you?”

“I do.” Minh looked at him for a moment and seemed to make a decision. “Met him in a homeless shelter about, what, five years ago now? Almost six?”

Rylan caught his breath. “Homeless shelter?”

“Yeah.” Minh took one of Rylan’s hands, toying with his fingers. “I’ll never forget it. It was full summer, about 115 degrees, and some do-gooder outfit did a roundup of the usual homeless hangouts, convinced a bunch of people to go to a shelter for the night. Gave us bottles of water and little kits with baby wipes, toothbrushes, that kind of shit. A Bible verse.” He snorted.

“So you were living on the streets?”

“Yeah, for about three months by then. I was totally unprepared for how bad the summer gets when you’re living outside. It ain’t the kind of heat where you can chill out under a tree all day and wait for night to get some relief. Nope. At midnight it’s still way over 100 degrees, and even full shade don’t do shit when the air around you is that hot. People were dyin’ everywhere, of dehydration, of heat exhaustion—seemed like there was one or two every day in this park I hung out in. So even if I had to listen to a Jesus talk first, I was fuckin’ glad to go to the shelter.”

“Did Scott—work there?” Rylan asked, and Minh threw him a look full of sadness.

“No, baby. He’d been sleepin’ in an alley. Homeless just like me.”

Rylan felt tears welling up, and he dashed them away impatiently. “Fuck.”

“When he walked in,” Minh went on, “I could tell he hadn’t been on the streets that long. He didn’t have that, you know, hardness in his eyes yet, that emptiness.” He squeezed Rylan’s fingers. “Shelters can be scary places, too. But because he was young, tall, and strong, nobody fucked with him. Me, on the other hand—”

Rylan slid his arm around Minh’s shoulders. “You don’t have to talk about it, Minh.”

“No, it’s okay. I think, if you’re gonna be with Scott, it’s important for you to know this. He’s the one don’t like talking about it, and I’m not sure he ever would if left up to him.”

Rylan glanced up toward the driver’s seat, noticing Scott had slipped on his mirrored sunglasses and was nodding his head in time to some alternative rock song Rylan could barely make out over the rushing wind.

“So I was curled up on my cot, and it was the middle of the night. For hours I’d listened to a group of guys talking about ‘that flaming gaysian’ and ‘tapping that ass.’” Minh bit his lip. “I was tired, weak with hunger. I had no weapon, nothing to defend myself with.”

“What about the shelter people? I mean, the people who worked there?”

Minh shrugged. “They were nice enough, but they weren’t gonna stand guard over a huge dorm room overflowing with cots and men. I was afraid they’d throw me out if I complained, and God, I just wanted the shower and hot breakfast they promised us. So I lay there, figuring if I relaxed and breathed through it instead of fighting, maybe it wouldn’t hurt too bad.”

“Shit, Minh.” Rylan tightened his arm around him and kissed the top of his head, unable to wrap his mind around being so hungry the threat of assault took a backseat to the promise of food.

“But when they finally came for me, Scott spoke up out of nowhere and said if they touched me, he’d kill them. Those dudes were drug addicts, broken-down drunks, no match for him. I wasn’t worth it, so they slunk off, left me alone.”

Rylan blew out the breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. “Thank Christ.”

“Yeah. He said to get some sleep, that he’d watch to make sure they didn’t come back. I slept like a baby, first time in a long time. The next day at breakfast, I asked him why he bothered defendin’ a skinny queer boy like me, a stranger. He gave me this sad smile, said I reminded him a little bit of someone.”

Now a few tears did escape, and they slid down Rylan’s cheeks, dried almost immediately by the hot wind. “We didn’t know where he was, Minh,” he choked, “me or the rest of his family and friends. He left one night and—”

Minh squeezed his hand again. “I know. He’s never really talked about what happened at home, just told me he made a choice and had to live with it.”

“Why were you on the streets?” Rylan asked, stroking his thumb over Minh’s fingers.

Minh flapped his free hand. “Oh, you know, that tired old story of boy meets man of his dreams, man promises boy the world, so boy gives up everything for him, but when their love is discovered, man acts like boy doesn’t even exist.”

Despite Minh’s offhand tone, his face was tight with remembered anguish, and Rylan didn’t try to reply, just hugged him close. Minh took a deep breath. “Enough about my epic stupidity. So after Scott saved my ass, literally, I sort of returned the favor the next night, when he forgot the number-one rule for surviving a shelter—never ever let your shit out of your sight.”

“Oh, no. What happened?”

Minh grimaced. “He took his shoes off, stuck ’em under his cot, and fell asleep. It wasn’t long before some dude tried to jack ’em, and when I saw, I raised hell. Scott woke up and almost took the guy’s head off.”

“Shoes?” Rylan’s heart started to pound. “Bright-blue Nikes?”

Minh looked up at him curiously. “Yeah, I think that’s what they were. He was beside himself at almost losing them, said they reminded him of the happiest time in his life.”

Rylan tightened his grip on Minh’s hand until he squeaked. “My father gave him those shoes, Minh. They were a welcome-to-the-family gift.”

“Well, there you go. No wonder he was so upset. I don’t think I ever saw him take them off after that.”

Rylan thought of the battered old shoes on Scott’s bookshelf in his room and felt his lips tremble. Minh gave him a minute to collect himself, his eyes soft with understanding. Then he continued his story. “Scott and me stayed at the shelter for three more days, and when he left, I went with him.”

“Back to the streets?”

“Yeah. We fell into a sort of partnership, you know? When I was with a trick, he watched out for me, made sure no one robbed me or beat me up. Pretty soon a few other kids, gay kids, trans kids, started hanging out with us too. We formed this—I don’t know what to call it—a support group?” He gave a mirthless chuckle. “We all shared what we had, and Scott used his advantages to help us.”

“What advantages?”

“He’s white,” Minh said flatly. “So people didn’t flinch and lock their doors when they saw him coming, or automatically run him off. If he panhandled, he usually made money instead of people screaming at him to stop being lazy, get a real job. Like the rest of us, he didn’t have a birth certificate or any sort of ID, but he sometimes got offered day labor, cash under the table by people who didn’t want Mexicans or blacks anywhere near their property.” His face twisted into a sneer.

“Jesus.”

“He talked different restaurant owners into giving us their leftover food instead of throwing it away,” Minh continued. “One lady let us use the spigot behind her building to wash up and cool off, as long as we didn’t piss in the alley or bring tricks back there.”

“Sounds like you all did the best you could.”

“A couple of our group hated what he represented, ’cause they didn’t want no white savior. But the reality? He is white and passes as straight to boot. His privilege made some things easier, and livin’ on the street at the mercy of bigots and assholes, he was a good dude to have around, like it or not.”

He lapsed into silence after that, and Rylan pulled him close, kissing his temple. “Thanks for telling me all this, Minh. I want so badly to understand him.” He glanced up just in time to see Scott watching them in the rearview mirror.

Rylan gave him a tremulous smile, and soon Rylan could feel the car slowing as Scott took the next exit toward a rest stop, pulling into a slot in front of the squat brick building that held the restrooms.

He and Minh climbed out of the back, stretching, and Minh headed in the direction of the men’s room, lighting up a cigarette as he went. Scott stuffed his hands in his front pockets and wandered off down a wooded trail leading toward some picnic tables set a little ways back from the parking lot. After a moment’s hesitation, Rylan followed, catching up to him easily and slipping his hand into the crook of Scott’s elbow.

“You two looked pretty cozy back there,” Scott remarked, his voice studiedly casual, though Rylan could feel the tension in the arm he held, could see the whiteness around his lips.

Rylan shrugged. “Just talking.”

“About what? Ancient history?”

“Yeah. Some dusty old ghosts.”

“They coming back to haunt me?”

Rylan rubbed his cheek against Scott’s shoulder before murmuring, “Nah. Dead and buried.”

They reached the picnic tables, and Rylan perched on the end of one, delighted when Scott, instead of sitting next to him, moved closer, insinuating himself between Rylan’s legs. Rylan hummed in pleasure, sliding his hands onto Scott’s hips. Scott pushed his sunglasses to the top of his head, scanning Rylan’s face with wary green eyes as if searching for traces of judgment, pity, disgust.

“It is what it is, Rylan,” he said at last.

Rylan smiled. “I know. You did what you had to do, and all I’ll say about it is I’m so glad you and Minh had each other.”

Scott visibly relaxed, a little smile of his own curving his lips. Rylan threaded his fingers through his belt loops and tugged him a little closer. “So you gonna tell me where we’re going?” he cajoled, smoothing his palms up Scott’s chest, pursing his lips in disappointment when Scott shook his head.

“You’ll find out soon enough, and you can give me that sexy fucking pout all you want, but I’m not telling you now.”

Rylan heaved a languid sigh, linking his arms around Scott’s neck and lifting his face invitingly. “Well, if my sexy pout won’t work, how about a kiss?” He bit his lower lip and then ran his tongue over it, making it glisten.

Scott’s low groan sounded tortured. “Fuck, are you trying to kill me?” He rested his thumb at the corner of Rylan’s mouth. “I can’t get enough of you.”

“And that’s a bad thing?”

Scott kissed him gently, sweetly. “Never.” His words were little more than puffs of air against Rylan’s lips. “Only frustrating because all I want is to be inside you, right here, right now.”

It was Rylan’s turn to groan, and he cupped Scott through his pants, tracing his fingers over the ridged column pressing against the fabric. “Mmm. Yes.” He slid his hand down farther and fondled Scott’s tight, heavy balls. “Why don’t you let Minh drive? Sit in the backseat with me.”

Scott’s eyes grew heavy-lidded, and his voice dropped to a hoarse growl. “And what, exactly, would you do to me there?”

Rylan squeezed him. “Well, I thought maybe I’d undo your pants—” He traced his fingertips over Scott’s bulging zipper. “—lean down—” He rubbed the tip of his cock roughly with his thumb, reveling in Scott’s gasp. “—and suck you until you come down my throat.” The last words were swallowed by Scott’s mouth as Scott kissed him almost brutally, his tongue driving deep.

Rylan arched his back, winding his legs around Scott’s waist as he opened for the onslaught, letting Scott eat at his lips, the little stinging pain a sexy contrast with the hot, wet velvet of his tongue.

“Wow, I really hope we don’t have adjoining rooms, ’cause I ain’t getting any sleep otherwise.”

Scott and Rylan broke apart, startled, and Scott’s voice was guttural as he snarled, “Go away, Minh. Now.”

Minh propped his hip on the table next to them, his arms crossed over his chest, smirking. “Believe me, I would, if I was your only audience. But I’m not.” He waved his hand toward the parking lot. “Way to scandalize the grandmas, you two.”

Rylan peeked over Scott’s shoulder to see a couple of elderly women standing next to their car, gesturing in their direction, the disgust on their faces visible even from a distance.

“Aww, shit.” Scott moved back, and Rylan let his legs drop. “Nosy old biddies.”

“You know I’m a big fan of voyeurism myself,” Minh remarked. “But not when it ends in arrests for public indecency.”

Rylan grimaced, seeing that one of the women had her flip phone out and was brandishing it threateningly. “Let’s go.”

Scott helped him off the table and slid his arm around Rylan’s waist, pulling him in close to his side. Rylan stuck his hand in Scott’s back pocket, and they ambled slowly back toward the car, Minh following along behind, still smirking.

When they reached the convertible, Scott let go of Rylan reluctantly. “I need to hit the restroom. Be right back.” He brushed his lips across Rylan’s, and Rylan gave his ass a smack.

“Hurry,” he called after him, and he and Minh slouched against the side of the car, staring down the two women, who were muttering back and forth between themselves, glaring.

Minh’s eyes flashed mischievously. “How ’bout we give them something to really titter about?” Before Rylan could ask what he had in mind, Minh hooked him around the neck, hauling him in close and mashing their lips together.

A moment of surprise before the feel of Minh’s hot mouth on his own caused renewed arousal to spike. Rylan wrapped his arms around Minh’s waist, swept him up, and dipped him dramatically toward the ground, deepening the kiss. Minh clutched at his shoulders and returned it passionately.

“Damn, you’re sweet,” Rylan mumbled, pulling Minh up to standing and letting him go, running the back of his hand over his lips. The women were outraged at the display, their loud exclamations of “disgusting perverts” and “sex fiends” clearly reaching their ears.

“Oh, a sex fiend is the only way to be,” Minh called to them, laughing openly. “And I can guarantee we’re having way more fun than you!”

Rylan ignored them all, too busy watching Scott stalk back toward the car, a pleasurable trepidation shivering through him at the look in his eyes. Minh settled his hands on Rylan’s hips from behind, and he put his chin down on Rylan’s shoulder.

“I can tell you that in all the years I’ve known Scott, I ain’t never seen that man jealous before. Not gonna lie, the sight of it now is absolutely delicious.” Minh gave a little wiggle and let go of Rylan, leaping over the doorframe and into the backseat with a whoop as Scott stomped up.

“You”—Scott pointed at Rylan—“get that luscious ass into the front seat. And you”—he pointed at Minh—“stop it.”

“Stop what?” was Minh’s innocent inquiry, and Scott snorted, climbing into the driver’s side before reaching over and cupping the back of Rylan’s head, giving him a short, hard kiss.

“You’re killing me,” he whispered, and Rylan rubbed his thumb over Scott’s lower lip.

“You. Inside me. Later,” he whispered back.

Scott’s eyes flashed with heat, and he put the car in gear, reversing out of the space with a whine of the engine. Rylan could see in the mirror Minh was blowing kisses at the women as they passed, to their everlasting disgust.

The shout of “Degenerates!” followed them out of the parking lot, and all three of them burst into laughter, their middle fingers held high as they sped away.

* * *

A loud whoop off in the distance broke Rylan’s concentration, and he lowered his camera, surprised to see how far he’d wandered. The scenery was certainly awe-inspiring, towering cliffs and buttes eroded into breathtaking red and white striations, the greenery of the forest below a spectacular contrast.

Landscape photography had never been his primary interest, though, and he decided he’d had enough of it, picking his way back along the slippery rocks next to the rushing water of Oak Creek, cursing as he almost slipped a few times.

Scott and Minh were just around the bend, and Rylan smiled as he drew closer and saw them playing like little boys while they waded in the water, skipping stones and splashing each other. They looked carefree and happy, faces open and beaming, and Rylan took a few rapid-fire shots, pleased with the way the camera’s high-speed setting caught the water droplets arcing in a shimmering rainbow around them.

“Shit!” Minh lost the battle with his balance and sat down hard in the creek, submerged up to his waist. Scott bent over and braced his hands on his knees, his loud guffaws echoing off the sandstone cliffs.

“Help me up, Scotty,” Minh entreated, holding a hand out, and Scott danced back out of the way.

“Nope. I know you want to pull me down.” He gave another loud whoop as he almost slipped, too, windmilling his arms in order to stay upright.

Minh glared at him. “I hurt my ass,” he declared, “on a fucking rock. Help me up.”

Scott relented and hauled Minh to his feet, reaching around to rub Minh’s ass cheek before giving it a pat. “Better?”

Minh responded by scooping up a double handful of icy-cold creek water and flinging it in Scott’s face before turning to run with a yelp of glee as Scott lunged for him. They splashed noisily through the water, Rylan capturing every moment, trying to hold in his laughter at their antics.

When they reached the shore, comprised of a series of large flat rocks, they stripped their T-shirts off, hanging them from nearby branches before finding a patch of dappled sunlight and sinking down to lie on their backs with loud groans of pleasure.

By the time Rylan caught up to them, they seemed utterly relaxed, eyes closed, and Rylan stood over them, unable to resist taking a few photos of Scott, tousled and wet, his chest glittering with droplets and streaked lightly with reddish mud, a slight smile quirking his lips. Scott dragged his eyes open as the camera whirred, the sparkling green vivid against the backdrop of the crimson rocks. “Hey.” He stretched leisurely and then crossed his arms behind his head. “Have a good walk?”

Rylan swallowed hard as the motion made Scott’s biceps bulge, the sexy tufts of hair in his armpits drawing the eye. His brown nipples were pebbled from the cold, and his wet cargo shorts molded his thighs and lovingly outlined what was between them.

“Yeah,” Rylan said, clearing his throat. “I did. This was an awesome idea. It’s so gorgeous here.”

Scott pulled one knee up and waved it lazily back and forth. “Oak Creek Canyon is one of my favorite hiking spots in the entire state.”

“Reminds me a little of the Grand Canyon,” Minh remarked, his voice slurred from relaxation.

“It’s the second most popular tourist destination after the Canyon,” Scott replied. “Goes to show Arizona is a state full of contrasts. Desert, dust storms, and hellacious heat in the Valley, but mountains, hiking, and skiing only two hours north. I love it here.”

Rylan dropped to the rock to sit cross-legged between Minh and Scott, each knee touching one of their sides. Scott moved his hand to rest it on Rylan’s bare thigh, tracing lazy circles with his thumb, making Rylan shiver.

“I come up here whenever I can, but I still remember the first time I saw it. The Grand Canyon is amazing, but Oak Creek—there’s just something about it that relaxes me, makes me feel—I guess at peace.”

“It’s probably the vortex effect,” Minh intoned, waggling his fingers in the air and making a long drawn out “oooh” sound like a ghost. Scott raised his hand to flip him a halfhearted bird and went back to stroking Rylan’s leg.

“What’s the vortex effect?” Rylan asked huskily, his eyes locked on Scott’s sleepy ones.

“Some New Age-y shit,” Minh said, yawning. “Crystals, psychic woo-woo, and stuff like that.”

Scott rolled his head to look at Minh. “More like spiritual and metaphysical energy. The whole area is like a conduit for it, stronger in certain spots.” He shivered. “It’s almost tangible.”

Rylan was intrigued, and he carefully set his camera down before lying on his side. He propped himself up on his elbow, facing Scott, his back to Minh. “Really? You’ve actually felt it?”

“Yeah, many times.” Scott nodded, narrowing his eyes as Minh rolled over to his own side behind Rylan and draped his arm over Rylan’s waist so he could peer at Scott.

“You never told me you felt the woo-woo,” Minh said, resting his chin on Rylan’s upper arm. “What’s it like?”

Scott tilted his face toward the sky, silent for a moment. “The best way to describe it is like a—like a tingling in the nape of your neck and between your shoulder blades.”

“Oooh, sounds scary.” Minh buried his face in Rylan’s neck as if trying to hide, slipping his hand oh-so-casually just underneath Rylan’s T-shirt and splaying his fingers across Rylan’s bare belly. Rylan bit his lip, goose bumps springing up everywhere, exacerbated by Minh’s warm breath against his skin.

“It’s not,” Scott said, his voice dreamy, his knee idly waving. “It’s peaceful, calming. It’s like being in tune with a higher power or a different spiritual plane. Awareness. I don’t even know how to describe it. It’s impossible unless you’ve experienced it for yourself.”

“Mmmm.” Minh’s interest was obviously feigned as he was much more involved in drifting his lips up and down the side of Rylan’s throat and nuzzling his nose behind his ear. When he sucked on the lobe, Rylan couldn’t help but gasp, biting his lip again as Scott’s eyes cut over to them, taking in what was happening in an instant.

Rylan held his breath, but Scott didn’t say a word, just rolled to face them, reaching out to cup Rylan’s cheek, tracing his thumb over his lips. Rylan parted them helplessly, and Scott slipped his thumb inside, rubbing the rough pad along Rylan’s tongue, catching his breath as Rylan nipped sharply at the tip before soothing it with a gentle suck.

“Jesus.” Scott leaned down to take his mouth in a rough, wet kiss, tangling his fingers in Rylan’s hair. Minh pulled the neck of Rylan’s T-shirt aside and nibbled along the crook of his shoulder, sinking his teeth lightly into the muscle.

Rylan moaned, helpless against the onslaught of sensation, trapped between two hot, aroused bodies. He slid his knee in between Scott’s legs, exulting at the hard column of flesh he found there. He circled his thigh against Scott’s balls, taking Scott’s hoarse cry into his mouth.

Minh fisted Rylan’s T-shirt and dragged it up, flicking the button of Rylan’s shorts open and sliding his zipper down to reach inside, the sound of barking dogs breaking into the haze of pleasure…

“Shit!” Minh suddenly exclaimed, rolling away from Rylan and sitting up, hugging his knees and hunching over. “People coming.”

“Fuck,” Scott grated, sitting up too. Rylan rolled to his back and lay there in a fog of interrupted arousal, his tented shorts hanging half-open, his chest heaving. Scott lunged to the side and snagged his wet T-shirt from the nearby branch, throwing the cold, clammy material over Rylan’s lap just as a group of hikers burst into view, their two dogs gamboling up to plunge into the creek and shake, spraying the three of them with yet more water.

“Well, there’s our cold shower,” Minh muttered, blowing out a breath, dropping his head down to his knees. Scott laughed, the husky sound doing nothing to calm Rylan’s aching erection.

Two gray-haired couples appeared next on the trail, athletic with tanned, weathered skin, all carrying well-used walking sticks.

“Hey, folks,” one of the women called, waving. “Gorgeous day for a hike!”

The three of them waved back, and before long, the other four were sprawled out next to them, drinking from canteens and munching on granola bars. They made small talk, laughing at the dogs’ antics, Minh even getting up to find a stick and play a rousing game of fetch with them.

Scott sat close to Rylan as they chatted, at one point sliding his arm around Rylan’s shoulders, stroking his thumb over Rylan’s upper arm. When Minh slipped and fell into the water yet again, he buried his face in Rylan’s hair in mock secondhand embarrassment, giving him a kiss on the cheek as he pulled back.

Rylan was enjoying the open display of affection, and he put his hand on Scott’s thigh, leaning against him. Unlike the old ladies at the rest stop, these two couples didn’t bat an eyelash, continuing to talk easily with them, recommending places to go and things to see in Sedona.

“Oh, that Mexican restaurant in Tlaquepaque is so romantic,” one of the women said. “If you go, be sure to get patio seating. The twinkly lights, the view of Bell Rock—just incredible.”

“If you’re celebrating an anniversary,” the other woman added, “or are on your honeymoon, the mariachi band will even come and serenade you.”

“You two celebrating anything special?” the first woman asked, her gaze open and friendly.

Scott shook his head. “Nope. Just enjoying spending some time together after a hectic couple of months. Thought I’d treat him to a weekend away.” He kissed Rylan again.

It turned out both couples had been married more than forty years, been friends with each other nearly as long, and every year took a big trip together.

“We’re leaving for New Zealand next week,” the second woman said. “Two weeks hiking, rafting, and eating.” She grinned. “We can’t wait!”

The four stood to take their leave, whistling for their dogs and calling their good-byes to Minh before turning to Scott and Rylan with wishes for a good weekend, tramping off deeper into the forest with exuberant waves.

“What nice people.”

Rylan turned his head to press a kiss to Scott’s shoulder. “They are.” He heaved a wistful sigh. “Don’t you want that someday? Exotic travel, lifelong friends…that would be amazing.”

Scott put gentle fingers under Rylan’s chin and tilted it up, giving him a kiss that was aching in its tenderness. “You deserve all that and more.”

He stood, pulling Rylan to his feet before leaning down to pick up his camera and hand it to him. Minh danced his way back over to them, giving Rylan a quick slap to the ass, informing them how hungry he was and demanding lunch before heading off down the trail in the direction of the trailhead parking lot.

Rylan started to follow, and Scott grabbed his arm to stop him. “What happened earlier, I swear I didn’t invite Minh along for…that. He’s pretty wild, if you haven’t already figured that out, and if you give him an inch, he’ll take a mile. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable or think I expect—”

Rylan flashed him his best wicked smile. “Mmm. Well, after my last threesome, I felt like I was cleaning spunk out of my ears for a week.” He enjoyed Scott’s look of openmouthed shock, stretching up on tiptoe to give him a smack on the lips. “I’m not an innocent sixteen-year-old anymore, Scott,” he reminded him. “I’m an adult, and I love sex, in all its forms. If this weekend leads to that—” He shrugged. “—I for one intend to enjoy it to the fullest.”

Scott’s face suddenly took on a pinched look. “I should have been your first,” he burst out, clenching his fists at his sides. “I wanted to be. I intended to be. God, Rylan, I—”

Rylan took a step closer and put his hand on Scott’s shoulder. “I know. I wanted you to be, more than anything.”

Scott bit his lip, and Rylan cupped his cheek. “But it didn’t happen, and everything that did led us to this moment right here. We can dwell on the regrets of the past, or we can enjoy the present. I know what I’d rather do.”

“Start as we mean to go on,” Scott murmured, scrubbing the back of his hand over his eyes.

“It is what it is,” Rylan echoed back to him, and they gave each other watery smiles.

“Come on, bitches!” Minh’s whine echoed back through the trees. “I’m hungry!”

With a laugh, Scott reached out and twined his fingers with Rylan’s, and they ambled in Minh’s direction, their clasped hands swinging between them.