Page 63 of A Minute More
“A hot guy. Any hot guy with a big dick.”
My eyes widen at that, and I chuckle as I take another sip of my beer. If that doesn’t seem gay, I don’t know what does. But then again, who am I to judge? I’m currently wrapped around another dude’s finger.
“Oh, that guy is checking you out,” Jude drawls and then lifts his drink in a salute. Suddenly, my skin feels clammy and my nerves tick up. The guy who is eyeing us is thin and leggy, with a sheer top and what looks like eyeliner lining his eyes.
He’s nothing like Simon. The complete opposite actually. And my dick is more nervous than anything. I’m not sure I want to be here.
I swallow down my beer and then set it aside, only finishing half of it.
“I dunno, man. I don’t think…I’m not sure this is my thing.”
Jude bobs his head even more, his red hair flopping over his forehead. Then he wets his lips, not listening to me. His eyes are focused on a big man in the corner of the club, his muscles protruding from his button-down shirt, his tie hanging loosely around his neck.
“You know him?” I ask when the man’s eyes travel down Jude’s body.
Jude ignores me and just walks forward, leaving me alone. It’s like he’s pulled by some invisible tether that no one can see or feel but him. I watch him disappear between the throngs of people and the chasm of loneliness threatens to overwhelm me.
Suddenly, the thin guy who was eyeing me earlier approaches and he smells sweet, like honey. Nothing like Simon. No one is like him. No, everything about this guy is all wrong.
He smiles at me, so open and friendly, and I miss the way Simon peeks up at me, the way his eyes slide over to mine when he thinks I’m not looking. He’s closed off and guarded, and I like it more than I probably should. Probably more than is healthy.
“Hey,” the guy says and tucks his hair behind his ear. He’s not shy. Not guarded. He’s not who I want.
Leaning forward, I say, “I’m sorry, I have to go.”
And without looking back, I escape, running to my car and pulling out of the parking lot with a screech, the Bronco nearly dying when I forget to push the clutch in all the way. My arms are shaking and my chest hurts. Thirty minutes later, I find myself at Simon’s apartment door, my fist gently knocking before I can even second-guess myself. And fuck, I won’t question this.
No. He and I…this is what’s meant to be.
Simon opens his door, standing before me like a dream in baggy sweats and nothing else. My eyes rake over his bare chest, and I swallow, my cock plumping up between my legs. This. This is what I was missing. Him.
“You’ve been ignoring me,” I blurt, and Simon’s eyelashes flutter, his hand grabbing on to the door handle so tightly I can see the white of his knuckles.
“Wesley,” he rasps, and I reach up and grab on to the door frame, my shirt riding up. If I don’t ground myself, I’ll barrel in and kiss him, and the look on his face tells me he’s not ready.
Simon’s eyes move away from mine and ogle the sliver of skin showing, his Adam’s apple bobbing.
“Why haven’t you called? Nothing. You’ve given me nothing. You haven’t even shown up at work. Why?” I ask.
“I…I’m going to quit.”
My eyebrows rise at that. “You’re going to quit? Why?”
That means I’ll see him even less. Fuck, my chest pinches at the thought of not finding him at the counter in those stuffy clothes of his, his hair perfectly combed, the scent of him overtaking me.
“This…these feelings I have for you are unhealthy.”
“But everything unhealthy is fun,” I counter, and Simon’s lips twitch slightly.
“Yeah. They’re so fucking fun,” he whispers, his eyes dropping to my mouth.
I grip the wood above me so hard that I swear it starts to crack.
“Let me in,” I say. “Let me in. We could have so much fun.”
Simon’s eyes darken as he lets out a shaky exhale. “You were at a club tonight. I saw your Instagram pics. You could have had anyone you wanted.”
I lean forward and his entire body trembles. “I could have, but I don’t want anyone but you.”