Page 64 of Except You
“Fine, but I will find out one day. One day someone will tell me.”
Beau scoffs and then tosses a piece of cheese at Coop. It hits his chest and falls to his lap.
“No throwing food,” Coop says with a scowl. “This is my fourth nicest suit. It’s Peter Millar.”
“Don’t know who that is. Do you, Max?” Beau asks.
I shake my head. “Never heard of Pete.”
Coop looks about ready to combust. “Do not call him Pete, you fools. This is a luxury brand.”
“Pete sounds like the guy who shines shoes down the street from me.”
“Oh, is that so?” Beau asks. “I do need my boots shined.”
“I can take you sometime,” I say, and Beau beams at me.
Coop is scowling at us, his lips twitching as he watches the two of us banter.
“You are both disgusting, and I am completely jealous.” He crumples the paper up and sets it on the counter. “But I approve of you, Max. You seem like a decent fellow. Do not make me hunt you down and cut out your eyeballs.”
“No plans of that. Promise.”
He gives me a thumbs up as another round of food and drinks are brought to our table. As we eat and drink, Beau and Coop tell stories of their time in college, and I listen with rapt attention.
They’re funny together. I can see why they’re friends. When the plates are cleared, my head is a little foggy from all the drinks, but I don’t mind it at all. I’m very relaxed. Beau seems to be in the same state. He’s practically on my lap when the drag queens come out on stage, their brightly colored dresses and makeup making me more delighted than anything.
“Oh, this is so good,” Beau says, wiggling on my lap.
I grab on to him, and pull him back so he’s pressed against me, and then rest my hands on his stomach.
He sighs, his face turning into my neck. He smells like peaches and some kind of flower I can’t put a name to.
“You’re going to love this. They’re so damn talented. Harlotte Monroe is my fave. Maybe one day I can introduce you to her.”
“Sounds good,” I say, though I’m barely paying attention to the stage as the drag queens begin their performance. No, I’m more focused on the way Beau feels against me.
It’s doing crazy things to my chest, to my balls.
To my dick.
It’s hard, and I’m not sure if that’s because I’m a bit drunk or because he’s on top of me. And I kind of want to watch him get off again.
I really want that.
That thought continues to sit in my mind, festering and growing roots until I’m so turned-on I can’t fucking think. Doesn’t help that Beau smells so damn good, leaning against me, his ass pressed right up against my dick. I mean, any guy would end up with a hard-on with someone like Bow-tie in their lap.
“Come to the bathroom with me,” I say when there’s a lull in the music.
Beau turns his head, his cheeks pink, that blond hair of his falling over one eye.
“Why, Max?”
I pull him further up on my lap so he can feel my dick pressed against him.
“Oh. Okay,” he says with a small grin. “Come on.”
He stands, adjusting himself slightly, and holds out his hand. I link my fingers with his, and he pulls me through the crowd.