Page 12 of Mitch

“Yeah, well, you don’t have over three thousand images to cull for editing either,” I snapped back.

Weston took a sip of his drink before wrapping his arm around Cadeagain,for like the fifth time since they’d arrived only an hour ago, which was also irritating me.

Fuck, maybe I just need to get shitfaced to forget about this weird ass day... Go home and work on some photos.

“No, that’s not it,” Weston mulled, his tone accusatory.

I shot him a glare.

Since he’d started dating Cade, he made it his business to knoweverythingabout our little group.

Who was crushing on who, what social gala was I photographing next, was everyone free for Poker on Sunday?

It was nice to have someone in the group to take over organizing shit, but it also got on my nerves.

Aside from my jobs, I didn’t schedule shit. I liked the spontaneity of life andnotknowing what was going to happen or where I was going to end up.

I looked at my friends, canoodling with their boyfriends like some gay version of the Stepford Wives, and it only pissed me off even more.

“Weston’s right, something else is on your mind. I can tell.” Dawson poked me in the ribs again, and I smacked his hand.

“Come on, Mitch, let it out. I promise you’ll feel better,” Dawson teased.

Nolan rolled his eyes. “If he doesn’t want to talk about it, leave the guy alone.”

I shot an appreciative glance at Nolan, the newest addition to the group. A part of me had to give the guy props, for being Dawson’s other half couldn’t have been easy.

And from what I’d seen, Nolan might be the only person on the planet who could actually get Dawson tostopand sit still, to be quiet, with just a damnlook.

Knowing Dawson, it was probably some sort of sex role-play thing, but I liked to think underneath all of that steam, it was more than that.

I saw the way helookedat the pencil pusher.

I’d give my left nut for some pretty boy to look at me like that.

Pretty Boy...

I sighed, figuring fighting the truth was moot.

Besides, I was on my second beer of the night, and I hadn’t even gotten to karaoke yet.

“Nothing. I just have, like, the worst gaydar on the planet sometimes.”

A resounding, “Oh,” followed from Dawson, louder than it should have been.

“Rejected by a straight man?” Weston nonchalantly drawled.

“Worse,” I admitted as Nolan pushed Dawson in the chest, the two of them play-fighting over something.

“Worse?” Cade asked, his eyebrows furrowing as his baby blues fixated their concerned gaze on me.

“I think I have a fucking awakening on my hands.”

Nolan let out a, “Fuck,” while Weston only shrugged.

“I don’t see the problem,” Weston said as I took another sip of my own drink.

“Yeah, well, you may be the type to just roll in and command shit, Wes, but some of us actually have to play by the rules. Especially when it involves our jobs,” I snarled.

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