Page 17 of Nothing Left to Lose

He laughed and sipped his drink. I took a healthy swallow, clearly needing more courage than he did.

He put his free hand on my waist and leaned his hip against mine, his body fitting perfectly against me. It always had. We’d always slotted together so well... but now it was doing things to me.

I was suddenly hyperaware of his angles, his body heat, and how my hand felt on the swell of his ass.

How he leaned in to speak over the noise, how his stubble brushed mine, and for the first time in my entire fucking life, a jolt of pure electricity zinged through my whole body.

Stubble, for fuck’s sake.

What the hell?

“Did you want to play?” Miller asked.

Yes.

Yes, I did.

. . .

Wait.

“Play what?”

He pulled back with a wicked smile and a spark in his eyes. “The slots. Why? What did you think I was talking about?”

“Blackjack,” I lied.

He laughed, his body still pressed against me. I liked it in ways he was about to be able to feel.

“We can gamble tomorrow,” he said. “I’m ready to head upstairs.”

Oh boy.

“Yeah, same,” I said, totally casual and cool. “I’m tired.”

His eyes glittered when he chuckled, as if he knew I was full of shit but wouldn’t call me out on it. He downed the rest of hisdrink, not moving away an inch, and I got a real close-up view of his lips on the glass and his throat when he swallowed.

Sweet mother of god.

My body was a tightwire, my head was a mess, and my heterosexuality was officially in fucking tatters.

I was going to go upstairs and make out with Miller.

I was going to kiss my best friend, and so help me, I was going to love it. It was going to change my life and everything I thought I knew about myself.

I was going to kiss him for real this time. As practice. And I could tell myself it wasn’t real, but it was very fucking real for me.

“You ready?” he asked, looking at my not-empty glass.

I downed it quickly, swallowing the last trace of trepidation with it.

“As I’ll ever be.”

My stomach was a ball of knots as we got into the elevator. I was grateful other people rode it with us, and I avoided all eye contact in the mirrors. Mine, but mostly Miller’s. He seemed to find something funny, and when we finally pushed through the door to our suite, he burst out laughing.

“Your face,” he said. “Oh my god. Are you okay? You look like you’re about to take a live landmine test. It’s just kissing practice. We can do stage kissing if you want, so our lips don’t even touch. Get the angles right, that kind of thing.”

Before I lost my nerve, before he could back out, and before my heart stopped altogether, I strode over to him, took his face in my hands, and kissed him.

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