Page 71 of Hot Streak

“Let’s not.” Jackson put his toothbrush away, eyeing how Connor’s toiletry kit was about to do the same thing to the countertop that his clothes were doing to the bedroom floor.

“Guess you’re worried you wouldn’t be able to resist me if we did,” Connor said, leaning in and waggling his eyebrows.

“And this,” Jackson said dryly, putting a hand on his shoulder, “is exactly what makes it easier. So thanks for that.”

“Ugh,” Connor cried as Jackson exited the bathroom. “Why are you so stubborn?”

“Get used to it,” Jackson said.

Chapter 12

“And then you came back to the room and took your shirt off, even, and nothing? Nothing?” Tristan asked incredulously. So incredulously that might have been enough to boost Connor’s mood, but it wasn’t working today.

Nothing had made sense since Jackson had pushed him away.

“Yes,” Connor said testily.

“Well, do it again then. Having seen your bare chest plenty of times, I can attest that it’s tempting,” Tristan said, his voice echoing. “Where is he right now?”

“I don’t know. He left the room this morning and hasn’t come back. He’s probably working out like a crazy person, again.”

“Not that we mind,” Tristan pointed out. Then added thoughtfully, “Could be sexual tension he’s working out, too?”

“Or he’s just avoiding me,” Connor said heavily. “He didn’t even ask me if I was hungover. Which, of course, I wasn’t. I didn’t have that much to drink.”

“Listen, you’re a child. You don’t get hungover. Hang on to that, and nurture it,” Tristan said and then paused. “Have you considered just . . .letting it go?”

“Like forgetting about it? Forgetting about him?” Connor had. He’d tried. For a full twenty-four hours after Jackson’s rejection, he’d tried to go back to the way he’d been before. Ignorant. Still convinced he was as straight as the day was long. But the problem with opening Pandora’s box was that everything had spilled out of it and it wouldn’t all fit back in, no matter how Connor tried to rationalize it.

“Yes, that’s what I’m trying to say,” Tristan said impatiently. “Just find another guy. Yes, this one’s hot, but there’s a lot of hot guys in the sea, Connor.”

On day two, it had occurred to Connor that maybe there was no shoving his attraction back in the box and slamming the lid closed because he’d been thinking about Jackson in these terms from the very beginning. There was nothing to return to; there was only this. Especially not now that Jackson had admitted that this wasn’t easy for him, either.

When Connor had first called Tristan, the morning after his big confession, Tristan’s first bit of advice had been, “if it’s meant to happen, it will,”—and his second, was to, in Tristan’s words, “use what God gave you and convince him to change his mind.”

So far, all his clumsy seduction attempts had done were drive Jackson away. And last night he’d practically laughed at him once they’d gotten back to the room. He’d been so sure he could make it happen in private, after what they’d been close enough to doing on a public sidewalk.

But no dice.

“Yeah, lots of hot guys I’ve never wanted anything to do with,” Connor said morosely. “What is it about this one?”

“Maybe it’s that he’s unavailable. Or that hooking up with him might be a potentially monumentally bad decision. You like those.”

“I do not,” Connor retorted. But yes, certainly. He had leaned into these kind of choices before. Had still made them, even while knowing they were wrong.

“You definitely do. It’s cute, but also a little catastrophic,” Tristan said.

Connor flopped down on his bed. Eyed the one next to it—even though it was early in the morning when he’d escaped, Jackson had still made it perfectly. “You’re the worst,” he said.

“You ever think about why that might be?” Tristan asked cautiously.

Connor definitely did not want to talk about it. Tristan was supposed to be giving him seduction tips, not psychoanalyzing him.

“No.”

“Come on, you’re not an idiot, even though you enjoy acting like one sometimes,” Tristan cajoled. “I know you’ve thought about it.”

Actually, he’d tried not to think about it. Not that that was some kind of magical solution, because even Connor knew it wasn’t, but it got him by, day to day.

---