Page 24 of Mitch

“It’s not that simple,” I refuted.

Archie shrugged as he set to making a fresh batch of cinnamon rolls, the first item on today’s calendar prep.

“Don’t believe me, watch some porn. You’ll figure it out pretty quick.”

I huffed in annoyance. “Are you serious? I don’t watch porn, like, at all.”

Archie snickered. “Then what do you have to lose? Consider it research. If you find yourself all keyed up over tits and ass and tight pussy, then by all means, I will leave you alone about this forever. I’ll take your steamy drunk dude make out to my fucking grave,” Archie said.

I turned to look at him with a raised eyebrow of my own. “Promise?”

Archie held his hand over his heart. “Promise. But I have a feeling you aren’t as straight as you think,” he said, turning to roll out the dough, and leaving me to my own devices, just as my parents came in through the door.

What the hell?

They never come in this early anymore.

“Hey, Mom, Dad... Is everything okay?” I asked, suddenly alarmed.

“We need to talk about last night,” my dad said, his voice stern, and gruff.

“What?” The blood in my veins ran as cold as a frozen croissant.

A part of me was worried they’d heard us talking, or worse someone might have said something to them. That they might have somehow seen me and my suddenly shifting morals, and that I’d somehow embarrassed not just myself, but my family.

“Well, it’s not often you come home so late, and youdidleave all the lights on,” my mom said with a smile as she headed over to grab an apron while my dad settled his arms on the counter.

“The event last night must have been quite a night,” he said with a grin, winking at me.

My cheeks reddened again as I stammered.

“Oh, I can assure you, Mr. Baker, it was,” Archie said with a giggle.

I shot him a glare. I watched as mymother rolled the dough smoothly, passing it to Archie to cut and roll.

“What time is the photographer coming today?” she asked, and once again my blood chilled.

I was a popsicle of fear, embarrassment, and curious desire.

It was Monday.

Mitchell would be coming intoday.

Today, the day after I stupidly got drunk and...

Kissed him.

I kissed a boy, and I?—

My cock twitched as the memory filled my brain. Of his warm, soft lips moving hungrily against my own, of the way my entire body—especially my damn cock—responded to his mouth, the sounds he was making.

The hardness I vaguely remember in my pants.

“Um, uh, I think...” I tried to focus on my words, but I felt like I was slowly slipping beneath choppy waves. “I think Mr. DeVille is arriving around noon,” I finally said.

Archie snickered in the background, and I turned away.

“Splendid!” My mother said withexcitement.

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