Page 57 of Fair Catch

Both of us are panting, attempting to catch our breath as we stare at each other.

Neither of us move, neither of us do more than breathe.

My gaze shifts, flashing to the mirror behind him, and I’m shocked to find my reflection in a similar state to his, and it’s a bucket of cold water.

What is happening?

Wordlessly, I take a step back; away from him and the relentless urge to haul his mouth back to mine, consequences be damned. And mark my words, there’s likely to be a fuckton of them. To the point where I might’ve just fucked everything up all over again.

An eternity passes before Kason lets out a sigh of…exasperation? Confusion? Uncertainty? I can’t be sure.

“What—” He pauses. Shakes his head. Clears his throat. “Hayes…”

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Fear of misreading the situation has me taking another step back, then another. I keep moving toward the door and away from the embarrassment that’s sure to come from this massive fucking mistake I’ve just made.

“I—I’ll see you at home,” I pant, hand on the door handle.

Then I yank the damn thing open and bolt like my life depends on it.

Fourteen

Kason

I’m left staring after Hayes long after the restroom door swings closed, attempting to process what kind of mental breakdown caused the scene he just made in the restaurant, let alone here in the bathroom. Yet, try as I might, there’s no explanation for his interruption, and definitely not for the way he just kissed me like a man starved of oxygen.

What the hell is going on?

I don’t have time to figure it out, though, because despite being hard, confused, and a little bit irritated, I still have to go back out there and finish the rest of this date with Madden.

Fuck,Madden.

He’s probably wondering where the hell I’ve run off to, or worse, left while I was in here thinking I was ducking out on our date.

Equally flustered and furious, I glance in the mirror to fix the hair Hayes must’ve mussed up with his fingers, then do my best to hide the tent in my pants before heading back to my dinner companion. If he’s still there.

Luck is on my side, at least, because my date smiles when I arrive at the table looking none the wiser. If he notices anything is off with me the rest of our meal, I’m glad he doesn’t comment on it. I’m mortified enough from Hayes’ rude interruption, and I don’t want to make matters worse by—as Hayes so aptly put it—acting like a bumbling fool.

And there he is again, worming right into the front of my mind when he shouldn’t be.

Goddamnit.

It doesn’t help that whenever there’s the briefest silence between Madden and I, my brain immediately zones back in on that kiss, on Hayes’ tall, lean body pushing me into the bathroom sink, the ridge of his cock pressing into mine.

It’s fucking torture, and every time it happens, it only makes me more irritated.

So irritated, that by the time the date is over—ending with my telling Madden we’d be better off as friends, thanks to the confusion I have over Hayes—I’m fucking pissed.

Seething, actually, when I shove open the front door of the apartment.

The living room is dark when I get inside, the only light coming from down the hall beneath Hayes’ door. I let the front door slam closed behind me, not a care in the world about the noise I make, and storm toward the source. Without knocking, I shove that open too and march across the room to where he’s sitting, headset on, at his desk playing a game on his PC.

His back is to me, so he doesn’t notice my presence until I grab his headphones and yank them off his head, dropping them to the desk with a clatter.

“What—”

Hayes wheels around, those cobalteyes wide when he spots me glaring down at him, and I don’t give him the chance to speak before I hiss out a harsh, “What the fuck, Hayes? What was that at the restaurant?”

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