Page 35 of The History Between Us

William’s lips mold to mine in a way that makes me think they’re meant to be there. They’re so damn soft and full, and he certainly knows how to use them. Kissing him isn’t awkward or clumsy; it’s heated and messy, just the way I like it. I’m dying for him to press his body to mine, but he doesn’t. My cock is hard and throbbing, and I’d give just about anything for him to brush up against it, even if only for a second. I need him, but all too soon, he pulls away. Eyes wild, hair tousled, and cheeks flushed, he brushes his two fingers across his swollen lips, as iffeeling them to make sure it wasn’t all a fantasy.

“Fuck,” he growls under his breath. “Colt, wecan’t.”

I drag my gaze down his body, pleased to find the obvious bulge in his pants. “Yeah, but you can’t deny you want to,” I throw back.

He doesn’t bother trying to lie. “Let me out of here,” he requests, tone firm and clear. The moment we shared isdone.

Unlocking the door, I turn around and walk out, leaving him to follow me. Irritation tightens my chest, yet I don’t know why. I got what I wanted, so why does his dismissal grate my nerves so damn much?

I blow through the back door, jogging down the steps on the porch, just as I hear William behind me. Not bothering to look over my shoulder at him, I stroll across the yard, wanting to get back to Whit. Maybe drink some more and shake off this irritation.

“There you are!” A familiar voice has my head turning as I watch with my heart in my throat as my dad steps up to me. “And Will, I was looking for you too.”

“Was just taking a leak,” I tell him with a chuckle. “Ran into William. Great minds think alike.”

Hooking an arm over my shoulder, my father does the same thing to William. “I want to have a shot with my son and my best friend for my birthday,” he drawls. “Come on.”

My pulse is through the roof, the realization hitting me square in the chest at how close we were to getting caught. The guilt from earlier, that I so easily shoved to the far recesses of my mind in favor of getting my hands on William, comes back in full force, and I can’t even find it in me to look at William to see if he’s feeling the same.

Fuck, that was careless of me. And selfish.Could I be any more of a shitty son?

17

William Andino

Today was one of those days that I wanted to be over before it even began. Truthfully, that’s how my entire week has gone. Sleep isn’t coming easily to me, work is chaotic and busy—one of my nurses is out with the flu—and I’m more ready for the weekend than I have been in a long time. Tomorrow is Friday, and it couldn’t come soon enough. The only upside to today is the fact that I got out of the office by four-thirty, and I’ll be able to sit down and eat dinner at a reasonable hour. After dinner, I plan to take a piping hot shower and relax in front of the television with a pint of mint and cookies ice cream. It’s practically calling my name from the freezer.

Pulling onto my street, I spot a familiar truck parked in my driveway, right beside where I’m supposed to park, and stomach bottoms out.Why the hell is Colt at my house?It’s been several days since my run-in with him at Max’s birthday party, but I knew that my avoidance would only last so long, especially with the free clinic this Saturday—something I’d rather not do,but that’s not an option. I made commitments, and I can’t get out of them simply because I’m more exhausted than usual and wanting to avoid a certain somebody.

I put my car in park and climb out, huffing a sigh. Maybe Colt stopped by quickly with some more dessert from Trish, and he’s about to be on his way. Although, I would think Trish would’ve called ahead to let me know, like she did last time. The front door is already open, so once I open the screen door, I step inside, listening for any chatter. Frowning when I don’t hear anything, I toe off my shoes, placing them on the shoe rack in the entrance before setting my briefcase on the kitchen counter, and I head off in search of where everybody is.

Since I don’t hear anybody, I don’t think they’re in the living room, so my guess is they’re both out back on the patio. A guess that is proven right as soon as I enter the living room, and I spot the sliding glass door open. Quiet chatter reaches my ears the closer I get, and I can’t deny the flutters in my stomach. Something about Colt being in my house, especially after that kiss, has me uneasy. Stepping outside, the sight before me isn’t one I was expecting.

Sitting across from each other at the table out here, a chessboard between them, Colt and my father appear to be in an intense game of chess. So intense that neither of them even notices me for a moment, not until Winnie perks her head up from where she’s lounging on Colt’s lap.

Colt glances up first, gaze meeting mine as a smirk curls on his lips. His signature hat is facing forward this time, and he tips the bill by way of greeting. Only then does my dad spot me, glancing up from the chessboard, a furrow in his brow.

“Oh, hello, son. I didn’t hear you come in.”

Well, you’re outside.“Just got home,” I grunt, still watchingthem with bemusement. “What is going on?”

Gesturing at the table, my dad states the fucking obvious. “Colt and I are playing chess.”

“I see that.” Eyes meeting Colt’s, I ask, “What are you doing here?”

I hate how I notice what he’s wearing, and how it affects me. Dressed in full cowboy getup, he’s got on a pair of dark wash Wranglers, a plain white V-neck t-shirt underneath a powder blue and white flannel with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, showing off his tan, corded forearms, and the same dark brown boots I always see him wear. He looks ridiculously sexy, and it infuriates me.

Flashing me a cocky little grin, I already know whatever is about to come out of his mouth is going to irritate me. “Your dad and I ran into each other at the grocery store,” he says. “He invited me over for a game of chess and for dinner.”Dinner?!“He said you were making my favorite, and who am I to deny myself a little chess and my favorite food?”

“Is that right?” I deadpan, dragging my gaze over to my father, who grins at me in a way that makes my blood pressure raise. “And what exactly am I making for dinner,Dad?”

“I pulled out some ground beef,” he explains, bringing his attention back to the board as he calculates his next move. “Figured you could whip us up some of your million-dollar spaghetti.”

Confused, I glance at Colt. “Your favorite food is spaghetti?”

Shrugging, he says, “What can I say? I’m a simple man.”

Oh, for fuck’s sake.

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