Page 24 of Switch Pitching

I swallow, trying to find my voice. “It’s a lot,” I manage.

A long silence stretches between us, and a wave of apprehension surges forth in my stomach. There’s no way I can move in here and not pay my share of the cost. It’s not right.

“James,” I begin, “this is way too much.”

His expression softens. “I know, but I want you to live here with me, and I don’t want to live alone. Besides, you shouldn’t be stranded in Portland.” There’s a strain in his voice that catches me off guard.

I stay silent while thinking. On one hand, this is huge. James, or his family, justobtainedan impossibly lavish apartment within a day like it was nothing. I can’t shake the feeling that I’m somehow taking advantage of him, or intruding. On the otherhand, he asked me to move in with him. He’s insisting, even when I won’t be paying rent. And the drive from Portland is over an hour, not counting traffic.

I remind myself that I have to get over my reluctance to accept things from other people. Sure, I’ve been taking baby steps, but this is very far removed from taking baby steps.

“Okay, I’ll live here with you,” I say, breaking what was becoming an uncomfortable silence. “But I’m paying half of the condo fees and utilities.”

A huge smile spreads across his face. “Awesome! That’s that, then. Let’s hit Target and turn this house into a home.”

“Can I at least get a tour first?” I ask, trying to lighten the mood.

James’s smile doesn’t fade. “How could I forget? And, as my way of saying thanks, you get first dibs on your room.”

“Ooh, I want the master bedroom,” I say, half-jokingly.

James laughs and raises an eyebrow. “Which one?”

Of course this place has two master bedrooms.

I punch James on the shoulder. “There’s one for you and one for me. Let’s start by checking the place out, then we can go to the store.”

Target is a sensory overload. The fluorescent lights and the overwhelming number of choices are making my head spin. On the plus side, it’s distracting me from overthinking the apartment.

I’m not sure it’s even overthinking; the apartment is huge. Like, seriously, a hot tub? In an apartment? That’s wild.

James is a blur. He’s in his element, bouncing around and grabbing far too many items. Suddenly, he stops and gesturesat a blanket. “This is perfect for our future couch! And it’s big enough so we can share.”

I raise an eyebrow. “We’re roommates, not husbands, dude,” I point out, purposefully bro-ing up my voice.

“Aw, come on, Ethan. We’re practically married at this point. We’re furnishing our first home together,” James says.

I laugh, trying to ignore the blush creeping up my neck. He’s joking, obviously, but I hate how a part of me is reacting like it means something more. “Okay, babe,” I tease, “let’s not get carried away.”

James, however, seems to be on a roll. “We should go all out. Let’s get this matching bathrobe and slipper set!”

“Please don’t.”

Undeterred, he continues. “And we definitely need a California King for the bedroom. For us.”

I pretend to consider it for a moment. Then, I playfully punch his arm. “Yeah, yeah,” I say, trying to keep my composure. “Where are you gonna bring all your girls home to? The stairs?”

Because yes, ourapartmenthas multiple floors.

James doesn’t miss a beat. “I don’t need girls when I’ve got this…” James wildly gestures at me, “… hot hunky jock to come home to every night!”

My traitorous mind sends a jolt of energy to my dick as James reaches over and squeezes my biceps, making an exaggerated moaning sound to top it off. I choke on a snort, my ears burning. The towel I was holding slips from my hands and falls to the floor with a soft bounce. Heat rises in my face and I desperately try to tamp it down.

“And I’m supposed to be the gay one,” I mutter, trying to sound nonchalant. My voice betrays me by coming out a lot higher than I’d hoped.

James just chuckles, completely unaware of what he’s doing to me. “Come on, man, this is just the kind of joking around I was talking about the other day.”

Even though he’s not being serious, my stomach still does a stupid little flip.

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