Page 70 of Hot Streak

Maybe even years to come.

“No,” Jackson said.

Connor chuckled wryly. “Maybe you aren’t attracted to me. I was so sure.”

Jackson was going to one hundred percent regret this confession, but he made it anyway. “Like that, you’re easy to resist. Like this, it’s gonna take everything I have in me to go back to the room with you and not pull you into my bed.”

Connor’s eyes glazed over, like he wanted nothing else.

“I thought . . .” Connor hesitated, licked his lips. And yeah, it wasn’t like Jackson hadn’t considered kissing him. He’d thought about it. Once. Twice. A thousand times. “I thought you didn’t like me.”

“You are absolutely a pain in my ass. But you’re not . . .unlikeable. That doesn’t change anything, though.”

“Doesn’t it?”

“Not for me,” Jackson said firmly, and even though it nearly killed him, he took a step back. The hardest challenge would be when they got back to the room. Because no doubt Connor was already planning to throw himself at him.

“You’re a very frustrating man,” Connor said, no judgment in his tone, as they started walking again towards the hotel.

“Heard that before,” Jackson said.

Connor laughed.

“You’re gonna regret this, tomorrow, when you throw that simulated game,” Jackson observed a minute later.

“Maybe,” Connor said. “I’m not nearly as drunk as Ro worried I was.”

“I know,” Jackson admitted.

Connor nudged him. It was a casual touch, without any of the seductive intent of the last few days.

That made it better. And also worse.

Maybe in another situation—another whole fucking universe—they might’ve been friends.

And more, Jackson’s uncooperative brain added.

They got to the hotel and took the elevator up to their floor.

Jackson found himself bracing for what Connor would say—what he would do—when they were finally in the room, but to his surprise, once the door closed behind them, Connor didn’t even take his shirt off. Just sat on the edge of the mattress and asked a question instead.

“You really thought I had what . . .like a whole string of very manly hookups under my belt? Really? Do I give that vibe?”

“You seem, uh . . .very confident,” Jackson said. He figured that was the best way he could describe it. He definitely did not want to tell the guy how much more it meant that it was him. How much harder it was going to make resisting him, because if he did confess that particular truth, Connor might not let up.

“Is that really it?” Connor asked skeptically.

Well, shit.

Jackson decided this would be a good time to head to the bathroom. Get ready for bed. Hopefully cut Connor off before he got too close to the truth.

“Are you running away again?” Connor asked, trailing after him and standing in the doorway as he brushed his teeth. He’d removed his shirt. Because of course he had. “You’ve spent an awfully long time in this bathroom recently.”

Jackson spit into the sink and ran water to rinse it down the drain. Something he was fairly certain Connor wasn’t doing. That was definitely going to be a lesson for another day—how to be a respectful roommate during a three-week-long road trip, so the guy who was stuck with you didn’t want to murder you in your bed.

“Maybe I’m just trying to avoid the pile of clothes on the floor that looks like it’s about to take over all the available floor space.”

Connor made a face. “Are you calling me a slob now? What happened to the stuff about you inviting me to your bed? Let’s talk about that instead.”

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