Page 149 of Hot Streak

“He’s threatened to make me sleep on the couch if I don’t at least give him a shot at my schedule.”

He’d told Connor he wasn’t going to be as worried about who knew about them, leaving it entirely up to Connor’s discretion, but Connor supposed he hadn’t really believed it til Jackson had actually started being more demonstrative.

Clearly, he wasn’t ever going to be one who enjoyed loads of PDA, but nobody looking at them together, Jackson standing next to him, would think they were just buddies.

“You’ve come a long way, Connor,” Charlie said with an approving nod. “Keep listenin’ to this guy, yeah?”

“Plan to,” Connor said, taking another long drink of his beer. He was nearly done with it. And the way Jackson’s hand brushed his back, just above the chair back, told him he’d noticed.

That he was more than ready to cut the small talk and head out, too.

“Think we got one more game in us?” Deke asked, as he stopped by their table.

“Absolutely,” Jackson said.

“And one more homer, too, I’d bet,” Deke teased.

“You know it,” Connor said, giving Jackson a little nudge as he stood, finishing the rest of his beer. “Come on, old man,” he said to Jackson. “Let’s go home and get you some beauty sleep for tomorrow.”

Deke’s cackle echoed after them. “Yeah, you’re not gonna be doing any sleeping,” he called out as they exited the bar.

“You know,” Jackson teased as they headed down the street towards his place, “maybe Deke’s right. Maybe sleep isn’t what I need.”

“No?” Connor was trying to pretend like his pulse wasn’t already accelerating.

“I know I’m not tired.”

As they climbed the stairs to Jackson’s place, Connor suddenly wished that he’d not taken this step. Maybe Jackson wouldn’t like it. Maybe it would be weird. Maybe it would . . .

“What’s wrong?” Jackson asked, unlocking the door and ushering Connor inside.

“Nothing,” Connor insisted, arousal warring with potential embarrassment inside him.

Why had he thought this was such a good idea?

Yeah, it turned him on. And he thought it would turn Jackson on, but he wasn’t sure . . .not really. Not as sure as he wanted to be, before he pulled his shorts down.

“You’re lying now. Seriously, what is it?” Jackson put a hand on his shoulder. “You know we don’t have to have sex, not if you don’t want to. I didn’t—”

“I’m wearing the underwear,” Connor blurted out.

Jackson’s eyes grew wide.

“I thought you wore them to start,” Jackson said slowly. He didn’t seem disgusted at all. In fact he seemed . . .okay, he seemed intrigued.

“I did. But I . . .uh . . .bought a few extra pairs. You know . . .for uh . . .entertainment purposes.”

Jackson’s eyebrows skidded up. “So you’re wearing them? Right now?”

Connor nodded wordlessly, but even, he, with his sudden flare of anxiety over doing this, could admit that Jackson appeared to be pleased by his revelation.

“Well, then take these shorts off. Slowly. I wanna see.” Jackson walked over to the bed and sat on the edge, legs spread, face suddenly as flushed as Connor’s felt.

Connor knew he was hot. He’d known it since sixteen, when he’d finally passed the gangly, pimply stage of his early teenage years. But he’d still never felt as unsure about his looks as he did now. Even when he’d been attempting to entice Jackson into bed and failing, he’d still known that Jackson found him attractive.

“Come on,” Jackson coaxed as Connor came to stand in front of him, fingers knotted in the waistband of his shorts. “Let me see.”

He toed off his sneakers. Then his socks. Then tugged his T-shirt off. That was easy enough. He knew he looked good. The flare of heat in Jackson’s eyes proved it.

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