Page 17 of The History Between Us

Heaving a sigh, he unbuckles his belt. “For fuck’s sake. I’m going to regret asking, aren’t I?”

“Probably.”

9

Colt Bishop

“You didwhat?” Whit’s eyes widen behind his thick-framed glasses.

We’re each a few beers deep, a buzz barely going, but it’s enough for me to spill thetea, so to speak. My chest rumbles with a chuckle at the absolute aghast look on his face. I’ve never seen Whit look so scandalized.

“It was only one time,” I murmur. “And it was, like, two years ago. It’s not a big deal.”

“Colt, he is yourfather’s best friend.” His voice is nothing more than a whisper-yell. “That isnot, ‘not a big deal.’”

“Okay, maybe it was abigdeal.” I hold my hands a decent length apart from one other, wagging my brows at Whit suggestively.

Whit scoffs. “You know what, Colt, I could’ve gone my entire life not knowing that little piece of information.”

“Not little,” I chirp.

“You know what I mean,” he hisses. “Will is close with Conrad, and when we were married, I got to know him pretty well, and I donotneed to picture the size of hispenis every time I see him.”

“It’s a nice penis to picture, though.”

“I swear to God, you’re as bad as Shooter,” he grumbles. “How is there two of you?”

Puckering my lips, I blow him an air kiss before chuckling and tossing back another gulp of beer.

Whit miraculously had a dolly in his garage that he used to bring the giant box inside. He’s got it opened up, and all of the parts sprawled all over in his living room as he scans the directions with a furrow in his brow.

“Do you want some help?” I offer, setting my beer down on the coaster on the table.

“No,” he snaps. “You can’t help. I’m not going to be responsible for you injuring yourself more.”

“Whit, I’ve got an injured shoulder and wrist. My eyes still work,” I deadpan, ripping the sheet of directions out of his hand. “Let me help.”

“How did this even happen?” he asks after he finally gets himself squared away. “What were you doing in Seattle in the first place?”

“A buddy of mine from high school lives out there now, and it was his twenty-first birthday. He invited me out, and I had nothing better to do, so I went.”

“Okay, and?” Whit makes a ‘get on with it’ gesture with his hand. “How did that lead to sleeping with Will?”

“I’d booked my hotel for two nights,” I tell him. “The birthday party was the first night I was there, and my plans were wide open the next night. I’ve always heard how great the queer nightlife is in Seattle, so I decided to check it out for myself. William was at the bar I went to.”

“By himself?”

“Yup.”

“And then what?”

“I wasn’t a hundred percent sure it was him at first. It had been quite a while since I’d seen him; he moved out of Copper Lake when I was in, like, middle school. I tossed back a few shots, got a little closer, and when we made eye contact across the area, I knew it was him.”

Whit’s looking at me like I’ve grown a second set of arms. “And there was no point once you realized who he was that you thought maybe you should leave?”

“Fuck no.” I laugh. “Are you kidding? Do you know how many times I fantasized about William when I was growing up? He spent so much time at my house because of my dad, and I would drool over him the entire time.”

Rolling his eyes, Whit asks, “Who made the first move?”

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