Page 58 of Fractured Souls
“My head is a mess.”
“Is it me?”
“No. Not you.” He reaches out to grab my hand.
“It’s not you; it’s me.” I slip my fingers out of his grip. “Classic.”
“No, Bo. It’s not like that. I’m confused. When I hooked up with that guy, it didn’t feel right. Then last night, seeing you there, I don’t know . . . You looked so hot, that thong was hot. You looked beautiful and . . . shit, I don’t know what came over me.”
“Me. I did. I came all over both of us.”
His lips split into a smile before he laughs. “You certainly did.” He presses his forehead to the counter. “So hot,” he whines. “I just don’t get what the difference was between that and hooking up with that other guy.”
“Well, that guy was insanely hot, so if it’s not him, it definitely shouldn’t be me.”
Cam’s head lifts, and his eyes narrow. “Not as beautiful as you, Bo. Not even close.” He rubs his chest. “With him it didn’t feel right. I’m sorry, I’m just going in circles. I think um, I think I’mgoing to go down to the gym for a bit, okay? I just want to work out for a while. Clear my head.”
He needs time and space. From me. “Okay.”
“I’ll be back later, okay? I just need some space.”
“Pants!” Noah stands, slamming his cards down and bouncing on his toes.
“Noah, come on,” Jamie whines.
“Come on, baby. Show off that slutty thigh tattoo.”
Jamie blinks at him. “Never in Maddox’s wildest dreams would he have thought that one day someone would call his tattoo slutty.” Noah pats Jamie’s leg. When I came over earlier Noah had wanted us all to play strip poker.
“You should have run, Bo,” Mark whispers.
Jamie gets up and slips his pants off, showing off his red briefs and theerr,slutty tattoo in question. It’s a black and gray Japanese dragon running from what looks like his hip all the way down to his knee. Noah rests his elbow on the table and his head on his hand watching Jamie. His eyes flick to the bulge in his briefs. “Mmm, hello.”
“Don’t talk to it.”
“Why do we do this?” Hunter gathers the cards and deals them out. I am one thousand percent sure this is not how you play strip poker, but who am I to judge? Pushing our chips—handmade ones that are just colored pieces of paper Jamie scribbled on before we sat down—to the center of the table, we all make our bets. Mark folds instantly. We lay our cards down.
I look around the room, then hear Hunter groan. “I hate this.”
“You know you don’t have to get naked, right?” Mark says to his boyfriend. “This lunatic doesn’t have power over us.”
Hunter gets up, shaking his head, and pulls down his boxers . . . andmy god. “Noah, stop looking at it!” Jamie snaps.
“It looked at me first!” Noah shivers. “That thing has it’s own gravity.”
“He’s not that much bigger than me,” Jamie grumbles.
Mark snorts. “Sure thing.”
Hunter scrubs his face with his hands, then his beard, then he looks at Jamie. “Why didn’t we ever try? I’m sure we would have had a very nice quiet life together. You’re okay-looking enough. With some time and a lot of alcohol I think we could have been very happy.”
“We should have at least made an effort,” Jamie agrees. “We would’ve been great.”
“Hey! Don’t leave me out. This is not my fault!” Mark says.
“He’s your best friend, who you insisted on having stay with us,” Hunter says.
“I wanted to keep these two apart, but I was the asshole. Your fault.”
