Page 66 of Best Served Cold

Gray: glad to help

I put my phone on my coffee table. “He’s not into guys.”

“What do you mean?” River asked.

“Noah told me he’s not into guys.”

“Was this before or after he put your dick in his mouth?”

“Before. But it’s not the first time he’s said it.”

“Do you believe him?”

“Yeah? He wasn’t faking his reactions. He has no clue why we’re doing this, either.”

River’s mouth pursed thoughtfully.

“What?”

“Maybe he’s confused because he’s never felt this either. He could be bi or even bi curious and only realizing it now.”

“And if he’s not?”

“Then he’s really committed to this gay chicken game.” River grinned.

“Competitive fucker.”

“Gee, I wonder who he reminds me of.” He pinched my thigh, which had been our preferred way of bugging each other at the dinner table as kids. A slap or punch made noise; a pinch was silent.

I batted his hand away, smiling at his antics.

River had a knack for breaking me free from my bad moods.

“So what has the council decided?” he asked, straightening.

“That it doesn’t matter if I’m attracted to him or not.”

River threw me an exasperated look.

“This whole thing is just an extended version of the dare,” I reasoned. “Two competitive and impulsive idiots who can’t let the other win. Right now, we’re even. When I win, the thrill will be gone and he’ll be over it and we’ll go back to being coworkers who aggravate the fuck out of each other.”

“So that’s the plan? Keep messing around with him until one of you wins this competition neither of you understands or even decided to start?”

“Yup.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“Nope.”

He pinned me with a look.

“Want to hit the gym?”

His stare dissolved into a smile. “Cheater. You distracted me.”

“Yup.” I stood and held out my hand to him.

“Mason’s having another party on Sunday,” River said.

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