Page 94 of Man On

“Get some rest,” I say before laying back on my pillow, smiling that he let me do that. He rolls onto his back and closes his eyes.

I watch him for a few minutes, wondering what will come next. I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t know how to help him, or what he wants me to be to him. Am I his boyfriend now?

Rolling the word around in my mind, it feels silly, but I don’t hate it. I definitely like it better than stepbrother.

Without opening his eyes, Lane reaches for my arm and pulls me onto his chest, like I’m nothing more than a blanket. It makes me chuckle, and I can see his lips turn up before his face relaxes and his breaths even out.

Whatever this is, whatever he needs, we’ll figure it out.

CHAPTER 30

LANE

Despite, or maybe because of, all the stress of yesterday, I sleep so hard I don’t hear my alarm. It’s so late I have no chance of making it to my first class of the day. Noah is still passed out, his face is shoved in my armpit, and his arm and leg are wrapped around me. My phone is on the nightstand, and I can just barely reach with my free hand to grab it.

I open my campus app to send a message to my professor to apologize for missing class, but there’s already a response from her, plus messages from my other professors and Coach Carr. They all say to rest and feel better, and that notes and any makeup work will be posted by the end of the day.

What?

I feel, rather than see, Noah watching me.

“What did you do?” I ask him, voice gravelly from sleep.

“I told everyone we have the stomach flu so we can stay home. And I also turned off your alarm while you were in the shower yesterday.”

I put down my phone and run a hand over my face. “Why did you do that?” I’m exhausted and feeling strung out from everything that happened yesterday, but I hate missing class even if I’m actually sick. Playing hooky is not my thing.

“Because you needed a day off, and you wouldn’t take one unless I forced you.”

My cheeks heat. He really must think I’m so weak. I ignore the impulse to get up and leave, rolling to my side to look at him. “Look, Noah, I know what you must think?—”

“I don’t think anything, Lane. I just wanted to keep you to myself for a day, okay?”

“For what?”

Noah pushes himself up onto his elbows and leans forward to press his lips against mine. “I’ve been waiting a long time to get to do this again,” he whispers against my mouth. “I plan on taking full advantage.”

I part my lips to reply, but Noah does exactly what he said he would and takes full advantage. He locks his lips against mine, our mouths moving against each other. I follow his lead, losing myself in the way his kiss sends awareness to every nerve ending. It’s both familiar and not. Because although the sparks I was afraid of are certainly there, the fear is not as potent.

When he opens his mouth, I follow him, gasping at the spark of electricity when our tongues touch. I greedily open wider, and he rolls himself over my body.

“There it is,” he murmurs. “Come on baby, give it to me again.”

Baby.

I don’t know what he’s talking about, but if he keeps kissing me this way, I’ll give him whatever he wants.

Noah rolls his hips against me, rubbing the length of his erection against mine as the kiss grows deeper and hungrier.

I lose track of time, forgetting about school and practice. All I can think is that I need more of this. My fingers dig into his ass, pressing him harder against my body as I thrust up against him.

We’re nothing but a panting, gasping, writhing pile of limbs until neither of us can stand it anymore. Our shorts come off and keep going, kissing and stroking each other until we’re covered in each other’s release. We keep kissing long after we come, until our bladders and growling stomachs force us out of bed.

The rest of the day is spent eating, lying in bed making out, and watching a movie that Noah chose just for me. We watch Across The Universe, and then lay in bed listening to the soundtrack, and making out some more.

For someone who was so adamant about not kissing, I’m starving for it now. He can barely get any words out, because as soon as his mouth moves, my eyes are locked and my mouth follows. The number of times I’ve interrupted a conversation just to kiss him is honestly beyond rude, but I can’t seem to help myself. And Noah doesn’t seem to mind, although he keeps insisting we need to talk, usually while his hand is wrapped around my dick.

I don’t want to talk. I just want to bask in this. The connection between us blocks out all the worry and pain. But I know avoidance can only get me so far, especially as the deposition and potential trial loom in my future.

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