Page 5 of Crossed Lines

Luke chose that moment to walk in on me getting the worst blowjob of my life from some guy who bolted at the sight of him. I guess he thought Luke was my boyfriend, or something.

He was more like an angel sent down to torment me. Wearing a cropped band T-shirt that showed off that slim waist, hisbrown skin tinged blue under the party lights—I wanted him almost immediately, and I told him that.

It’s the one and only time I hit on him, and after a swift rejection I never tried again. Now, I only flirt as a joke.

Luke clears his throat and, sensing an opportunity, I glide in between his legs, kicking the water softly. His mouth drops open, a furrow appearing between his eyebrows.

He’s always said he’s straight, but sometimes… sometimes he looks at me like he does right now. His brown eyes dark and appraising, mouth twisting like it does when he’s thinking about something, fingers clutching the hem of his little shorts.

I pause, brain stuttering.

He’s not usually half hard.

Those shorts hide nothing, accentuating the outline of his dick. Luke notices at the same time I do, his eyes going wide for a split second before he scrambles to his feet so fast, he almost slips and knocks himself out on the wet tiles.

He mumbles an incoherent excuse, tugging down his sweater to cover his crotch as he backs away. The triumph I feel at winning pales in comparison to the pleasant hum of arousal running through my body.

Trying to distract myself, I flash my cockiest smile. “Guess I won, sweetheart.”

“It wasn’t a contest.”

Liar. We both know everything between us is a contest when we’re not on the pitch.

I don’t bother answering, watching him squirm until the silence gets to him and he stalks out of the room, head tucked down and hand cupping his crotch.

When I’m finally alone, I work through more therapist-mandated breathing exercises to get myself back under control. Don’t want to blind some poor worker when climbing out of the pool.

Chuckling softly, I shake my head and make my way to the shower area.

1-0 to Spencer.

Even if I had a shot with Luke, I wouldn’t take it. The guy’s not only as straight as an arrow, but a secret romantic.

He’ll deny it, but I’ve seen him go crazy for those Hallmark Christmas movies, the ones where the couple falls in love and lives happily-ever-after. It’s a cute dream, but it ain’t mine. Relationships end in nothing but disaster and pain, a fact I learned after the last douche my mom kicked out.

Plus, I have a rule; don’t shit where you eat. Messing around with my best friend would ruin everything we’ve built. I couldn’t survive without him.

These little games between us, the bets, all the joke flirting—we’re skirting the edge of lines best left untouched.

But I can’t help that it’s so easy to want him.

3

Luke

I can barely look Spencer in the eye the next day. It’s like my mind tries to forget but my body—and most importantly, my dick—isn’t getting the memo.

Groaning around a mouthful of toothpaste, I scrub a hand over my face. My reflection stares back out at me with wide eyes, doped up on so many cups of coffee I’m practically buzzing. I need to hurry up. Junseo’s party is in half an hour and we’re not even dressed yet.

Somebody bangs on the bathroom door. “How long does it take to get ready?”

“Go away,” I say, ignoring the way my heart jumps at the sound of Spencer’s voice.

Of course, he doesn’t listen. Before I can say anything, the door swings open and in steps a very shirtless Spencer, a flimsy towel draped over the sharp cut of his hips.

I swallow past the lump in my throat. It’s not fair that he gets to look like that.

“We’re gonna be late if we don’t share.” He gestures to the shower. “You don’t mind, do you?”

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