Page 84 of The Risk Taker

He starts to turn, but I catch his wrist. “Hayes, wait. Iwantto talk about it,” I assure him. “I’m just not used to it. That’s all.”

He watches me carefully. “You sure?”

“Yeah,” I say, nodding. “I’ve only bottomed a handful of times,” I admit with a small chuckle, rubbing the back of my neck. “So I wouldn’t call myself an expert.”

“That’s okay.” He holds my gaze. “It’s just us, right?”

Those words knock the wind out of me.

I nod, smiling faintly. “Yeah. It’s just us.”

Nathan lets out a breath, softer now. I can tell he’s still nervous. But I can also see the curiosity flashing in his eyes.

“So…” he says, clearing his throat. “What do I need to know?”

I huff out a laugh.Figures. Nathan Hayes is a perfectionist when it comes to everything. It’s only right he’d want to be a pro at taking my cock, too.

“Lube. Fingers. Talking. Trust.” I shoot him a grin. “I’ll walk you through all of it. If—and when—you’re ready.”

He watches me for a second longer, then nods slowly, like he’s taking it all in.

I clear my throat, force a grin, and knock my forehead lightly against his.

“Come on,” I murmur. “Let’s get out of here before someone actually catches us.”

He huffs out a laugh and follows me out of the showers as we walk back into the empty locker room and finish getting dressed.

But the whole time, I keep sneaking glances toward him, catching him do the same.

I don’t think I’ve ever wanted someone like this before.

And it honest-to-God scares the hell out of me.

22

LOGAN

Iroll onto my side for what has to be the ninth time of the night.

The sheets are twisted around my legs, and I’m pretty sure I’ve punched the pillow into oblivion. I flip it again anyway, trying to find the one square inch that doesn’t feel like it’s been microwaved.

It’s useless. Everything is too hot. My room is too quiet. My brain won’t shut the hell up.

I groan into the pillow, reach blindly for my phone on the nightstand, and check the time.

11:45 p.m.

I toss the phone onto the bed and drag a hand through my hair, then sit up with a grunt and grab the gummy worms sitting open on my nightstand, shoving a few into my mouth.

I’m bored as fuck. Probably because instead of doing what I’d normally be doing—getting ready to go out, picking which hoodie I’ll inevitably lose at someone’s house—I’m here. Being a good boy. Behaving. All that crap.

And all I can think about is Nathan fucking Hayes.

I thought living with the guy I’m secretly hooking up with would be fun as hell.

I had plans. Fantasies of sneaking into his room late. Him sneaking into mine. Sneaky kisses in the hallway. Stealing him into closets. Dropping innuendos at the breakfast table while the guys are completely clueless to what’s going on.

Turns out? Not that fun.