Page 156 of Best Served Cold

I chuckled. “Because I never expected to share it with someone. I’ll get a bigger one after we get paid.”

“Here’s hoping we don’t fall out of it before then.”

“Just stay close and we’ll be fine.”

“I can do that.” He kissed the nape of my neck. “Night, Zane.”

“Night, Noah.” I snuggled against him. “Love you.”

“I love you, too.”

Closing my eyes, I smiled into the pillow.

When we’d started this game of gay chicken, I never could have imagined I’d get more than my first kiss out of it. Now I had my first boyfriend, and I was in love with the most incredible man who amazingly loved me too.

We might have started this thing not understanding the pull between us, but now that I’d had a taste of him, I knew I’d never let him go.

Noah was mine, and I was his.

Always.

EPILOGUE

Zane

3 years later

“What if I did a—”

Reaching over, I shushed Noah with my finger on his lips.

He shot me an exasperated look but didn’t move away.

I replaced my finger with my mouth, gave him a quick kiss, then settled in the chair. “I already told you I want you to freehand it.”

“Freehand what?”

“Whatever you want.”

“You’re impossible.”

“You love it.”

His exasperation melted into soft affection. “No clue why.”

“Samesies.”

“You guys are so cute it’s actually annoying,” River said from where he was sprawled in a chair. “Whoda thunk my big bros’ love languages are sniping at each other and making each other scream in the bedroom. Or the woods, the pantry, the library, the club, the parking lot behind—”

“We get the picture.” Noah stood and went to the sink. “You do realize I’m at work, right? Probably not the most professional conversation to have.”

“Pshhh, it’s only Ben.” River waved at the reception desk, where our friend and the owner of the tattoo shop sat, his head bent over a sketchbook. “And he’s in the zone.”

“Sure am,” Ben called back, his pencil scratching against the page.

“Do you want it to match the rest…” Noah started, grabbing a towel to dry his hands.

“Not gonna answer that,” I sing-songed, just to be extra irritating.

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