Chapter Nineteen
Emmet
I don’t know how we got here, but here we are at some downtown bar, drunk off our asses.
One minute we were having breakfast, then he was showing me around town, and we stopped for lunch.
I got more of a tour, then it was dinner, and suddenly dark.
Neither of us wanted to go home, so we ended up at a bar, and now…
we’re playing pool against two college kids who are kicking our asses.
We’ve already bought them two rounds of drinks because of losing, yet we keep coming back for more. We’re determined, if nothing else.
“Adam. Hey,” I say gripping his face and holding it still. I blink a few times to clear my vision, then laugh. He’s looking at me so seriously. “We have to win this one.”
“Yeah,” he says with a firm nod, swaying from side to side—or maybe that’s me. “We’re going to win.”
I watch his mouth as he speaks, and it takes everything in me to not smash my lips to his.
I so badly want to. I miss him, and I want to show him how amazing he is physically.
Things with Adam and I were always so physical, and I miss that.
And fuck, all this alcohol and him bending over the pool table is making me horny.
I’ve never been attracted to someone the way I am to him. The years between us did nothing to tamp that down.
“Yo, hello! It’s your turn!” one of the guys yells.
I shake out of it and gesture for Adam to take his turn.
“Stripes, Adam!” I shout when I see him aiming for the solid green ball.
He barks out a laugh. “Right, sorry.”
He shoots toward the yellow striped ball and gets it in, in some wild turn of events because in no way should that thing have gone into the pocket. He pumps a fist into the air, then takes another turn and misses—badly. That makes more sense.
We lose this game, just like all the others, and do the walk of shame together to the bar to get the guys another round of drinks.
“I’m tired of losing,” he complains as we wait for the guys’ beers.
“Same.” The bartender hands us the drinks and we bring them over to the guys and let them know we’re done for the night. “We could go back to my place and play video games,” I suggest.
Adam smiles around his glass as he takes a sip. “Mortal Kombat?”
I roll my eyes. “Obviously.”
“We’ll need to call for a ride.”
I pull out my phone and pull up the app. “It’ll be here in twelve minutes.”
We suck down our drinks and head to the bathroom. It’s a single-person bathroom, so we make a line in the narrow hallway to wait for the occupant to finish up.
A woman comes out of the girl’s bathroom across the hall, and I tug on Adam so he gets out of the way.
He stumbles, falling into me, his body pressing against mine. His gaze falls to my lips, and his tongue drags along his bottom one. My grip on his arm tightens, and I can’t stop myself. I lean in, needing to taste his lips. It’s been so long, and I can’t take it anymore.
The men’s door is yanked open so hard it slams against the wall and snaps me out of my daze. I jerk away and hurry into the bathroom. It’s only when I’m closing the door that I realize he snuck in here with me.
“What are you doing?” I ask carefully, my heart beating a little faster.
Adam slips between me and the door. The lock snapping shut echoes through the small space. He doesn’t say a word, just watches me. His breathing grows heavier, or maybe that’s mine. Then, his hand is on my hip, searing my skin through my shirt.
“Adam…”
His gaze darts to my lips again. “Emmet.”
“What are you doing?” I repeat, this time slower, breathier.
Every part of me wants this, but there’s something in the back of my brain saying not now; not like this.
We’ve both been drinking, and I don’t think my heart can take an excuse, come tomorrow morning. I know him well enough to know that’s what I’ll get.
He’s still staring at my lips, eager for something I have to offer.
As the seconds pass, his gaze darkens, until he looks like an animal ready to pounce.
His hand comes up, fingers brushing along my throat, his thumb dragging along my bottom lip.
I suck in a sharp breath, all the blood in my body flooding to my dick and making me dizzy.
“They’re still so soft,” he whispers in awe.
I’m not breathing. I can’t. My heart is pounding and my body is trembling, but I can’t fucking breathe. I’m terrified to move, to break this spell, to make him stop doing this, as much as I know he should.
He leans in, his lips less than an inch from mine, so close I can feel his breath, and then someone bangs on the door, startling us both.
I step back as his eyes fall closed, and he sighs.
I walk to the urinal to piss, then wash my hands.
When he doesn’t move to use the bathroom, I unlock the door and pull it open.
“What the fuck?” some guy says when we both walk out.
“I was sick, asshole,” I grumble, shoving past him and heading to the front.
Adam and I wait under the awning for the car to pick us up, neither one of us mentioning what happened in the bathroom.
So, what? I’m just supposed to bring him to my house and kick his ass in Mortal Kombat after that? How is that possible?
Whatever happened between us in the bathroom faded away during the car ride. We didn’t say a word to each other, and the driver hardly spoke, but the tension bled away. Maybe we just needed a moment to breathe. I let us into my house and go right to the kitchen to grab a bottle of water.
“Do you want one?” I ask him.
“I thought we’d keep drinking.” He grins.
That’s dangerous.
“If you want to.”
“As long as you want to,” he says carefully.
“I’m fine with it. Drunk video-gaming? Hell yeah,” I say confidently, though I’m not so sure it’s a great idea.
He walks over to the counter where I keep the bottles of alcohol while I grab us some glasses. Adam picks up a bottle of whiskey, and we take it into the living room. I set up the video game while he pours us drinks.
“Wow. These graphics are way better than I remember,” Adam says as he goes through the characters.
“When’s the last time you played?”
He shrugs. “The last time we played.”
“Jesus,” I mutter. “Do you ever have fun?”
It was meant to be a joke, but the look on his face tells me it hit hard.
“Sorry,” I say. “I was trying to be funny.”
“It’s okay. It’s not your fault. I… never have fun,” he says carefully, clicking on Johnny Cage. I’ve already selected my favorite—Sub-Zero. “Tonight is the most fun I’ve had in years.”
“Come on. That can’t be true. You have fun with your kids all the time.”
“Yeah, but that’s different.” He sounds almost sad, and I hate it.
We fall into silence as we play the game. He loses, over and over again, until I decide to take it easy on him. The excitement on his face when he kills my character is unbelievable. His eyes light up like a kid on Christmas morning.
“Did you let me win?” he asks, his grin falling.
I shake my head. “No.”
His eyes narrow. “You’re lying.”
“I am not. You beat me fair and square.”
I reach for my drink, unable to hold his gaze, but I feel him staring at me still. Finally, he lets it go and we play another match. This time, I try a little harder, but he beats me again.
“Guess you’re just getting better. I haven’t played in a while.”
That’s a lie. I play this game all the time. It’s basically what I spend my time doing when I’m home, other than sleeping.
After four more matches, Adam says, “I’m starving.”
I glance at the clock by the TV. “Nothing delivers at this time.”
“You don’t have any food here?” he asks.
“Uh… no. Not really.”
He groans, falling back into the couch and staring at the ceiling before turning his head toward me. “We could go to my house.”
I try not to look into this too much. He’s asking me over at nearly three am to eat, nothing more. I could tell him to go on by himself because it’s late, but I don’t want to. So I agree, and then we’re ordering a car to get to his house.