Page 25 of Men in Shorts

Then Brodie let go and pulled back, his expression tense. “Did I ruin things?”

Not trusting himself to speak, Duncan merely held up a finger as he bent over and set his full mug of tea on the floor, balancing his breakfast sandwich atop it. Then, with both hands free, he reached out for Brodie and kissed him.

Brodie’s moan echoed Duncan’s own relief. Resting his hands atop Duncan’s knees, he leaned forward into the kiss. Their lips parted slightly, freeing their tongues to offer tentative, exploring, hopeful caresses.

Duncan slipped an arm about his waist, and the warmth of Brodie’s skin through his shirt flooded him with an uncontainable heat. This was everything he remembered, yet much more. And now they’d nothing to blame it on but their own desire.

Brodie broke away again, his breath coming hard and shallow. “I, erm…I need to lie down.”

Duncan pulled him forward into his lap, then lowered them onto the bed, curled into each other. “Better?”

“Mm.” Brodie kissed him again, with twice the confidence as before.

Duncan stroked Brodie’s back, sliding his palm over the sharp contours of his shoulder blades and the gentle slope of his waist, strumming his ribs with his thumb. For three and a half weeks, Brodie’s body had been but a hazy memory. Now Duncan wanted to memorize each inch of him before moving on to the next. There was so much to explore, and all the time in the world.

To show he understood this fully, he took Brodie’s hand and said, “I know you’re not ready for much, being ill and all.”

“That sounds like a challenge.” Brodie gently pulled on Duncan’s lower lip with his teeth.

Duncan groaned, wanting to strip them both naked now nownow. He nestled his hips against Brodie’s, pleased at the way they fit together—and even more pleased at their matching hard-ons. “Check you. Seems you can get it up for me after all.”

Brodie’s spine went rigid. He gave Duncan a look of pure horror, like he’d suddenly seen him for a serial killer.

“What’s wrong?” Duncan asked, his heart thumping with worry as much as excitement.

“That night before vacation. When we were drunk.” Brodie pulled his own arm back into his chest, folding into himself. “You laughed at me.”

Shit.It was just as he’d feared. “No, I was laughing at myself, and at the situation. I was never laughing at you.” He touched Brodie’s cheek, his own face flaming with shame. “Is that why you ran away that night?”

“Of course. I was humiliated.”

“Brodie…” He kissed him softly. “I’m sorry I hurt your feelings. And I wish we’d not been so hammered.”

“Me too.” Brodie relaxed a bit. “Then again, if it weren’t for Lorna’s mad drink recipe, we might not’ve hooked up at all. I never would’ve had the courage to touch you sober.”

“Oh, that’d make a lovely public information film. ‘Hey, kids, got someone you fancy but too scared to say so? A wee dram will get your happy-ever-after, or at least a sloppy shag. So get it doon ye!’”

Brodie’s laugh faded into a dreamy smile. He pulled his left arm up to rest his head upon it, then used that hand to stroke Duncan’s hair. “Did you fancy me, then? Before Oblivionator?”

“Honestly?” Duncan paused, just to see relief replace the anxiety in Brodie’s eyes when he added, “Aye, I did.”

“Really?”

“I didn’t think you liked me, though. You hate football and you think athletes are stupid.”

“That’s not true.”

“It is. I could tell by the way you talked to me in study group.”

Brodie frowned. “I’m sorry. If we’re being honest, then you’re right—I didn’t truly like you until this week. I didn’t know you were so clever, or so kind. I didn’t so much fancy you aswantyou.” His eyes narrowed. “I didn’twantto want you, because aye, I hate footballers, but I couldn’t stop picturing you naked. Worst of all, I picturedusnaked together and imagined how inferior I would look next to you.”

“Inferior? Are you mad? You’re b—” The word stuck in his throat. It sounded too romantic, too extreme, toomuch.

“What, ‘bonnie’?” Brodie said sharply. “Like a wee lassie?”

He had to say it now. “No, you’re beautiful. Like a man.”

Brodie’s hand went still on Duncan’s head. He stared at him for a moment, then looked at the wall, blinking rapidly. “I’ve never heard that before. I’ve never really felt like a man.”

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