Page 57 of First Puck

Brad and I gasped, close enough for our breaths to meld as my attention fled from him.

Even up against the glass, I still flinched back as I met Lance’s curiosity.

My heart in my throat, my pulse strong in my ears, his lips were moving, but I couldn’t make out what he was saying.

Lance tilted his head, silently asking me if everything was okay.

Brad moved back from me, releasing his grip on my arm, and taking the tension with him as a dark look I’d never seen before crossed his face.

I’d seen Brad angry, but not so much that he looked like he might snap if Lance said the wrong thing.

I didn’t know how to reply to Lance. There was no way I was okay when I thought I was going to explode.

Half-thankful to Lance for not letting us go any further on a busy bus, half-frustrated with him for interrupting us, I found my voice again.

“Sorry, what?” I asked numbly, blinking hard to get rid of the haze Brad had created.

Brad swung around instantly, probably to glare at Lance again. With his back to me, I could finally breathe again.

“I said, do you still have my phone? You put it in your pocket earlier.”

I cocked my head. There was no reason for it to be there.

“You put it in your bag, remember?” I said, but the second Lance’s chin dipped, I could already guess what had happened.

I slipped my hand into my left jacket pocket to check and narrowed my eyes at Lance as I found it easily—way too easily.

Now the hug he gave me earlier didn’t seem so spontaneous after all.

Lance reached over the aisle, extending his hand as I extracted it from my pocket.

But Lance was exactly far enough away that I had to stretch to give it to him.

And press hard into Brad as I did.

Suddenly, it wasn’t just the nervous tremor at the potential of his touch; it was the heat of his body, the firmness of my chest against his shoulder, the way both of us stiffened as I pressed even closer. My lips almost brushed his neck, and I nearly dropped Lance’s phone.

We hugged each other all the time; he never blinked at taking my hand or stroking me, but pressing into him from behind was a whole other flavor.

“Thank you,” Lance purred as he pinched the phone, deftly removing it before it clattered to the ground.

Brad exhaled as Lance gave me an appreciative once over, finishing with a smirk before he leaned back into his seat and turned to Tommy, much to Tommy’s joy.

Which just left me and Brad, and my body molding to his with every passing second.

How would he react if I wrapped my arms around him? What would he do if I pressed my lips to his neck? Would he like it if I reached around, sweeping my hand up his thigh to cup him, and finally touch his cock?

I was so close to groaning and my cock hardening. Which meant I had to get away from him before I did something stupid.

As soon as I shot back to my seat, his tenseness dissolved, and Brad instantly looked around. I hoped his scowl was because of Lance and not me.

There was another moment, another wash of time where Brad watched me while he adjusted himself on his seat so his knee just nudged mine.

My throat closed up and I folded my arms, like it would somehow stop my deep need to hold him and be held by him.

“Just don’t do it again, yeah?” I said, pushing down all the mixed up pieces of hurt which had tumbled free since last night.

“Yeah, of course!” he said, his shoulders easing as his face brightened. “You know I’d never do anything to upset you.”

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