Chapter 18

Steam wraps around my arms and legs as I step out of the shower. I breathe in the heat and sigh, feeling more relaxed than I have in days. I grab a towel and wrap it around my waist, rubbing my palm against the mirror's foggy surface until my face comes into view.

Pieces of blonde hair mat against my forehead, and my gaze trails down my reflection until settling on my swollen lip. I lean forward, inspecting the damage. There doesn't seem to be an actual cut or tear anywhere, but damn does it hurt.

I slide my tongue along my bottom lip and flinch when it crosses over a tender spot. The feeling brings me right back to my kiss with Blake. I hold back a groan remembering how it felt to have his hands on me, fingers digging into my hip and forcing me closer.

He was just as hard as I was when he rubbed up against me. It was kind of weird having a dick so close to mine. Granted, there were two pairs of jeans separating our 'mini-men' from touching, but still. It's the closest I've ever been to man parts.

Would he have let me go further if I initiated it? He didn't seem to mind when I slipped my hand up his shirt and felt around. Maybe I should have tried my luck and traveled south a bit too. I run my tongue along my lip again, pressing harder at the tender part. A searing pain shoots through my lower jaw, yet the pleasure that accompanies it has my groin aching for release.

Is it pathetic that I want more?

"Knock, knock, Callu-"

I whip my head to the side just in time to see Cade's bright face pop inside the bathroom. He raises a brow and takes his time studying me from head to toe.

"Well, well, well. If I knew this was an option, I would have passed on dinner completely."

Cade pushes the door open and leans against its frame, crossing his arms over his chest. The cold air nips at my flesh, hardening my nipples in seconds flat.

"Get the fuck outta here," I snap at him. "You're letting in all the cold air."

Cade steps into the bathroom and closes the door behind him. Then his grin widens.

"Better?"

I tighten my hold on the towel and glare at him. When Cade agreed to come over – over an hour ago, mind you – he told me I could just 'leave the door open for him.' Of course he chooses now to finally make his grand entrance.

"You have some impeccable timing," I mutter under my breath, searching around for my sweatpants.

"Mmm, I'd have to disagree," Cade counters and gives me a pointed look. "If I had impeccable timing, I would have gotten here about ten minutes earlier.

Without looking at myself in the mirror, I can feel the heat rising to my cheeks and staining them red. Cade doesn't seem the least bit stressed about this situation. I glance at his attire, noting that he's changed out of his work clothes and into a comfortable pair of skinny jeans and a t-shirt.

The combination makes him look younger. And gayer.

"You look like a fag," I say with a huff. "And where the fuck are my sweatpants?"

"I'll take that as a compliment, because I am fag. Proud of it, too."

If I had said that to Blake, he'd be lecturing me up and down on the importance of respecting all sexualities. And blah, blah, blah, a bunch of shit I don't want to hear. Cade just laughs it off. I'm not sure which one irritates me more.

Clearly distressed, I shoulder past Cade and stomp out of the bathroom. He follows behind me and chuckles.

"You know, Callum, you have a keen ability of pulling off that whole "pissed off and brooding" attitude while managing to make it look sexy."

"Shut up."

"I'm serious. Not many men can do that."

My eyes light up when I see my sweatpants hanging off the bed. I scoop them up and glance at Cade, a silent plead in my eyes for him to look away. He must sense how uncomfortable I am because he turns his back to me, fumbling with the remote I left on the nightstand.

"So how'd it go with Mr. Boss Man?"

I throw on my sweatpants and slip on a t-shirt, not bothering to check if they match.

"The man has zero remorse when it comes to personal boundaries. And he's moody as fuck," I answer.

Ok, ok, I may have helped just a smidge in the development of his mood swings, but I'll just consider that falling under the "5% of other duties as assigned" in my job description. I'm just trying to keep the man on his A game.

Cade sits on the bed and leans back, holding up his weight with his elbows. The position he's in shows off his slender build. His shirt rides up just a few inches on his stomach, and a trail of light hair catches my attention. It starts just at the bottom of his navel and becomes hidden beneath the hem of his boxers.

It's kind of hot.

Does Blake have that too?

"That explains the fat lip, then," Cade muses.

"I....oh, yea. That."

My tongue swipes across the tender flesh for a third time. An ache blooms deep in my stomach wishing it was someone else's tongue instead of my own. The silence stretches between Cade and I, and I have the weirdest desire to know what he's thinking.

This is the first time I've ever been physical with a dude. Well, two dudes. Do men get jealous like chicks do?

I clear my throat and climb into bed, leaving ample space between the two of us. Cade turns on the TV and switches to the basketball game. I'm not sure if he actually likes sports or not, but I appreciate the distraction all the same.

A few minutes pass. Cade continues to watch the screen, and finally the silence becomes too much for me.

"Why'd you come over?" I ask.

"Because you texted and asked me to."

I scowl. "Yea, I know that, smart ass. I mean, why'd you give me your number in the first place?"

Cade turns his head to the side. His expression is soft, content even. He smiles and I relax. I've only been around this guy for a total of a few hours and already his smile is becoming pretty damn contagious.

"I was hoping to get a glimpse of you in the shower."

I roll my eyes and reach forward to punch him in the arm. "You're an idiot."

Cade laughs and scoots up the bed until we're next to each other. Unlike me, he doesn't attempt to leave room between us. His arm brushes against mine and he leaves it there.

"You're just a good guy, Callum," Cade tries again.

Even though he's still smiling, his expression becomes serious. The light of the TV illuminates his face, and my brain automatically starts comparing his features to Blake's. Cade is a good-looking dude. A real panty-dropper. Er, boxer-dropper.

His face is masculine but his features carry with them a hint of femininity. It's a hot combination, and I wonder if this is why I find him so attractive.

Nothing about Blake is feminine. Well, except maybe his mood swings – no offense, ladies. So why the hell do I find him so irresistible?

The image of Blake's face finds its way front and center to my brain. He stares back at me, his dark eyes bold and intense. His chiseled cheekbones frame a narrow but masculine jaw, and he blinks a few times in my imagination.

When I don't respond, Cade gets my attention again by rubbing his index finger along the backs of my knuckles.

"And even though you are ten shades of Asshole to the wind, you're kind of charming, too," he adds with a wink.

His comment makes me laugh, and just like that, the tension between us evaporates. We find our way into easy conversation, talking about everything from work, to food, to sports.

Turns out Cade actually does likes basketball.

Close to 1:00 AM, the two of us order a pizza. Cade bitches and moans about my topping selection, so I shut him up by agreeing to just cheese. Despite the odd sensation of longing tumbling through my senses, the night ends up being pretty fun.

It isn't until the infomercials start dancing across the TV screen that I realize how late it's getting. Cade mindlessly chews on a piece of crust, tapping a few buttons on his phone to show me a picture of some sea creature he was just talking about.

"It's getting pretty late," I comment.

Cade squints at the time showing on his phone and tosses his crust back into the pizza box. "Want me to head out?"

"Probably should."

"Alright, cool. Just let me find this picture for you."

Only I never get to see the picture.

Cade slips his hand into mine, angling his body close enough to be cuddling. His warmth and his touch feel so good that my eyes begin to close of their own accord. We don't have sex. We don't even kiss.

As relieved as I thought I would be about all this, however, we end up doing something far worse.

We fall asleep.