Page 20 of Spring Breakup
“I don’t have one.” Which was bullshit, but his fantasies certainly had nothing on Dean’s real-life experience.
“Liar,” Dean said. “What’s the best sex you’ve ever had?” Dean’s focus was on him alone. It pinned Tyler in place.
“That’s private.” And he had no idea. It was all… just okay. He craved sex, but it never quite lived up to the hype in his head.
Dean gave a conciliatory nod. “Fair.”
“What’s the best sex you’ve ever had?” Tyler asked in return, feeling bold for posing such a question.
“Man, nothing compares to receiving that first ever blowjob, right? Simple. Vulgar. Fast because you’ve never felt anything so good. A little messy. Or a lot messy maybe. Do you like it messy?”
Tyler’s head spun. It was so hot in the sauna, and he was so close to Dean. They’d drifted toward each other without Tyler realizing. There were only a handful of inches to cross, and they would be kissing.
He wanted that. He was pretty sure he wanted that. Mostly sure.
Dean must have read his hesitation because he put a hand on Tyler’s chest before Tyler built up the nerve to lean in. “Hmm. Better not.”
Tyler scooted back, putting distance between them again. His heartbeat was pounding in his ears, in his temples. He pointed at Dean. “That was fucked up.”
“Yeah. Sorry. You just seemed—”
Tyler shook his head sharply, cutting Dean off. A drop of sweat slipped from Tyler’s hairline and down his cheek. He wiped it away and was worried that it had looked like he’d swiped at a tear.
Without a word, Tyler scrambled off the bench, out the door, and away from the asshole in the sauna.
ChapterEight
Dean followedTyler into the house. He could hear Rosie’s recriminations in his ear. He needed to be nice. To be gentle. To not take advantage of a guy who was hurting and anxious and had trust issues as tall as the mountains surrounding them.
Sex after almost being smooshed by an avalanche was not a healthy coping mechanism.
Tyler was scraping through his duffel bag and didn’t react to Dean’s appearance.
“What are you looking for?” Dean asked.
“A book. I thought I brought it with me. It’s…”
“It’s what?”
“Important to me. I brought my important ones so they wouldn’t disappear when Francis moved out of my condo.” He held up a thick paperback. “Found it.”
Letting a guy who stole money from you move out of your house without supervision sounded unwise, but Dean wasn’t going to say that.
“Is there a risk your stuff will disappear?”
“Of course. But Francis isn’t a bad guy. He got behind on his—it doesn’t matter. I had to get out of there, and it felt more important to be away from him than for me to be there protecting a bunch of junk. But I didn’t want anything to happen to my books.”
“Your trivia books,” he said.
“Well, this one’s about social strategy and reality TV, but yes.”
“Why is a book about social strategy important to you?”
“I like games. Strategy games. Trivia. Games of chance.” Tyler sat on the bed and frowned at him. “But I didn’t love that stupid mind game you played in the sauna.”
“That wasn’t a game.”
“Felt like one. Pretty sure I lost.”
