Page 22 of Phoenix

“And you’re hard,” Tor murmured.

“You guys, stop fighting, please,” Patrick said.

“We’re not fighting,” Tor assured him. “It’s a game we play.”

“Your mouth is bleeding,” Patrick pointed out.

“That’s nothing,” Tor said, wiping his hand across his lips and smearing blood over them. “I’ve had worse.” He grinned at Jule. “You hit harder when you were ten. Must be getting soft.”

An uppercut to the right side of Tor’s ribcage made him cough. “That hard enough for you, bitch?” He curled his palm around Tor’s throat.

“Not even close.” Tor moved his hands to the back of Jule’s head and cradled it. “Love your passion.” His gorgeous eyes were sparkling as he gazed at him. “What else you got?”

“I don’t understand what’s happening. Why are you hitting him? Julian, are you okay?” Brad must have walked over because his voice was right beside him, but, like always, Jule only had eyes for Tor.

“Take the dare, Tori,” Jule rasped.

“You sure?”

Jule nodded, knowing he was about to blow up a relationship with yet another good-on-paper boyfriend and deciding he didn’t care because that was the first time he had felt alive in eight long months.

“Hell, yeah.” Tor gripped his shirt with both hands and yanked him forward until their lips collided. Rough knuckles slid up the front of his neck and then warm hands snaked around both sides as Tor ate at his mouth, their lips and tongues moving together in a familiar dance.

He felt Tor and strength. He smelled Tor and sweat. He tasted Tor and blood. It was comfort and excitement. It was home. He cupped Tor’s cheeks and buried his fingers in his hair. “Fuck, I missed you,” he murmured into his mouth.

“Missed you too, Julie.”

Chapter 7– Age 21

“Where’s Eric?”

“He ran off when you started wailing on your not-cousin.” Patrick shook his head. “Which was about sixty seconds before Brad and Henry stormed out because you started kissing him.”

“I’ll send him a text.” Jule owed Brad that much at least.

“Yeah, sure, that’ll make him feel better.” Patrick laughed and then cleared his throat and looked back and forth between him and Tor. “He isn’t your cousin, right?”

Jule shook his head. “No shared blood.”

Tor smirked and Jule just knew he was thinking about that bloody kiss.

“Shut it.” He kicked Tor’s foot under the kitchen table where they were sitting, fresh beers in front of them.

Patrick picked up a towel, opened the freezer door, and scooped some ice onto it. “For your face,” he explained as he held it out to Tor.

“Thanks, but I’m good.” Tor waved him off and tipped his bottle against his mouth.

“Of course you’re fine. Meanwhile, my hand hurts like a motherfucker,” Jule said, rubbing at it.

“It’s really weird to hear you cuss,” Patrick said as he handed Jule the ice.

Shaking his head, Tor said, “Frozen vegetables are better. They’re more malleable.” He got up, went to the freezer, pulled out a bag of edamame, and then sat back down beside Jule. “Give it here, killer.” He put Jule’s hand in his lap, carefully easing the bag around his knuckles, and held it in place. “Sorry I hurt your hand with my face.”

“Eat me.”

“Quit flirting with me in front of your roommate, Julie. You’re making him uncomfortable.”

“What’s making me uncomfortable is that this is what you consider flirting.”