Page 3 of Inevitable

Finally, after what seemed like hours, the man shrugged.

“Fine.”

Drew was still busy trying to catch up to what was happening when the guy—now standing at the opening of the street—gave him another one of his piercing gazes.

“Having second thoughts? Did you decide a measly dishwasher is too poor of a choice for your tastes?”

“Are you always this ornery?”

“Might be the shitty night I’m having.” The man cocked his head to the side. “Or might be that I’m just a moody bastard.”

“Yeah, I seem to draw them to my person,” Drew mumbled more to himself than to anybody else. It was the truth, though. In fact, he had a prime example of a mercurial asshole at home, sleeping across the hall from him.

“Lucky for you, you don’t have to deal with me for too long.” The comment was made offhandedly, but Drew couldn’t help but feel like there was something deeper there.

He didn’t have time to dig into it, though. Switching gears, the guy stepped closer once again and pressed their bodies together. His lanky form against Drew’s only added to the excitement already raging inside Drew.

“Ezra,” the man said. Drew raised his brows in question, hardly able to think with something so tempting in his personal space.

“My name. It’s Ezra,” the guy said with a slightly mocking lilt to his tone. Drew didn’t give a fuck that he was clearly being laughed at.

“Drew.” His voice was husky. There was no way he could play it cool and hide how much he wanted Ezra.

Ezra. He tested out the name in his mind. It suited the other man.

“We should get out of here.” Another curveball. Ezra dragged his palm over the front of Drew’s dress shirt, moving lower until he stopped just above the waistband.

Think. Where do you live? What’s the fucking address? Something. Anything.

Drew stopped himself. He couldn’t take Ezra to his apartment. What was he thinking? Well, that was easy. He wasn’t. For a crazy moment, he wished he could take Ezra to his own bed. He pushed the wish down. This was just for the night. Temporary. Fleeting. The last thing he wanted was for Bas to see Ezra walk out of his bedroom in the morning.

“My car’s just around the corner.”

“Let’s go, then.”

* * *

Drew opened the hotel room door and motioned Ezra to go in before him, inhaling as subtly as he could when the man passed him. The faint smell of cigarettes and the cold night air filled Drew’s lungs.

Want made sparks dance in his brain, drowning out all other thoughts except Ezra. Their elbows touched as they removed their shoes in the narrow hallway.

Ezra gave a low whistle as he walked in.

“Nice,” he said as he shrugged out of his jacket.

Drew had no idea what he was talking about. All he could see was Ezra. Their surroundings didn’t matter at all.

“We never got that drink,” Drew said. “Do you want one?”

“How about we skip all the bullshit and just get to the good stuff?” Ezra was still walking around. Exploring. He stopped in front of the window, taking a glance outside into the darkness.

“The good stuff?” Drew asked. The sparks in his brain were crackling loudly, making his ears ring.

Ezra turned toward him and rolled his eyes yet again. “Fucking. Isn’t that why you brought me here?” He slid his palm over the windowsill. Drew wished it were his skin instead.

Drew moved closer. Fingertips trailed over the back of Ezra’s hand, the sparks he’d felt earlier growing more intense by the second. He stilled his hand but didn’t move it away from Ezra’s skin, enjoying the heat and the feel of him. Ezra leaned into the touch. Stopped. Gave a huff. Pulled back a bit. God, the man was like an alley cat, starved for affection but so damn prickly that he probably scared away most people who came into contact with him.

Ezra kept his gaze on their connected hands for a moment before he looked up again. Apprehension sharpened Ezra’s features. But below it, rapidly hurtling toward the surface, there was also desire.