Page 23 of 10 Ways to Accidentally Fall in Love

“Yeah?” he says again, slower.

I let out a breath, a small laugh escaping with it. “He wanted me to piss on him, Brad. You know…watersports?”

His eyes ping wide. “Oh, my god. Is that… Oh, no. I owe Belinda the biggest apology.Dude, I didn’t realize.” He cringes. “I take it you didn’t want to piss on him?”

“No,” I say plainly, huffing another laugh. “I did not.”

Although the ridiculous thing is, if Brad asked me to piss onhim? I’d probably agree. Hell, I might even be into it. Just theidea of him standing in the shower, water dripping down his back and ass stuck out as he waits for me to mark—

Nope. No, no. Shut it down.

“Damn,” Brad says, sounding bummed. “That’s too bad. Poor Lewis.”

“Uh-huh,” I mutter, scrubbing my face for what feels like the hundredth time today. “Poor Lewis.”

“Oh, man, no,” Brad says, stepping closer and rubbing my arms in a soothing manner. “Joey, we’ll find you your guy. This was just the first attempt. A blank shot, if you will. Don’t…don’t worry. Next time, it won’t be a dry run.”

I let my arms drop. Brad is smiling at me encouragingly, and it’s all I can do not to kiss him. Not to take his face in my hands and just…kiss him for every goddamn thing I’m worth.

Instead, I ask, “Can I see the picture you posted of me?”

“Sure,” he says, pulling out his phone. He flips the screen my way after a minute of tapping.

The shot is taken from behind. I’m in the middle of a sumo squat, a barbell resting on my shoulders, my gym shorts clinging obscenely to my ass, and my thighs straining with the move.

Good grief. I suppose it could be worse. Somehow.

When I look up, Brad is still smiling at me.

“When did you take this?” I ask, although it must have been when we worked out together.

“The other day at the gym!” he answers. “Look at your form, man. Beautiful.”

My heart thumps painfully.

“Hey, Brad? Think we could grab some dinner?”

Before I faint.

“Oh, sure, dude! Yeah, you’re probably hungry. Sorry again about Lewis. The next one will be better, I promise. I’ll switch that whole watersports thing to motorboating. No way to confuse that.”

As Brad grabs my arm, leading me around the corner and in the opposite direction of the Mediterranean restaurant, I wonder what it is I’m doing. Iggy is right. This is bound to go badly for me. Yet I can’t make myself stop.

Don’t even want to.

“Thai?” Brad asks, stopping in front of a takeout place.

I nod in agreement, and he opens the door, waving me in with a grin. Brad and I order our food and get in my truck to head to his apartment. It’s a little surreal stepping through his door, considering the last time I was here I was striking out with a straight man.

This time, I follow Brad inside. His place is neater than I expected it to be. Maybe it was a poor assumption on my part, but based on Brad’s chaotic energy, I figured his home would reflect the same sort of mayhem. He does have a couple controllers out on the couch and more than one coffee mug sitting on the low table in front of it. But, otherwise, everything is clean and tidy.

Brad swings into his kitchen. “Drink?” he calls.

“Water?”

He returns with two bottles, our food hanging off his arm. Brad bypasses the dining table, so I follow him into the living room, taking a seat next to him on the couch.

“How’d you get into construction?” Brad asks, setting our drinks and food down on the coffee table. I have no clue what he ended up doing with the lube, but I’m afraid to ask.

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