Page 64 of Shift Change

I laughed, but the sound died in my throat when our eyes locked. For a moment, I couldn’t think.What the fuck is happening?The heat must have been getting to me. Chuck was already the best friend I’d ever had, my ROD friend. He was hot as hell in bed, but that should have stopped at making my dick hard. Why was it making my heart do crazy things?

Chuck, of course, had gone with Speedos—multiple shades of green, barely legal, and tight enough to qualify as visual misconduct. His package looked like it should come with a warning label.

Cupping it in my hand, I kissed him. When we broke for air, I gave it a gentle squeeze. “This. Mine. Later.” I nodded toward the door. “Come on, babe. Let’s see what’s so special about Miami.”

* * *

The afternoon sun was hot, but the ocean breeze softened the blow. We jogged across the hot sand, our bare feet sinking in as we made our way to the water. Chuck charged ahead, then looked back with a cocky grin. “Come on, Grandpa. You move like your joints need oiling.”

I flipped him off and broke into a run, crashing into the surf right behind him. Chuck dunked himself in the cool water, surfacing with his wet hair slicked back and drops clinging to his skin.Jesus.I ripped my gaze away when I started getting hard.

We swam out past the waves, had a few races, and splashed around like the kids we’d become. Eventually, we got tired and floated side by side, staring up at the sky.

“Coming here was the best idea,” Chuck murmured.

“Yeah, we’re geniuses.”

Silence stretched between us, comfortable and warm, until he made me laugh. “You’ll save me if I start drowning?”

“Absolutely. I’d be devastated if you died before I could make fun of you for being a lousy swimmer.”

He laughed too, and I let my head fall back onto the water. Nobody made things fun the way Chuck did. He could turn cleaning a disaster of a kitchen into a comedy show, and he once had me wheezing with laughter by narrating our grocery run like it was a wildlife documentary. His humor never felt forced because he was being himself. With anyone else, floating under a peaceful blue sky would have been relaxing and maybe even romantic. With Chuck, it was all that and more. He brought a spark that made even the stillness feel alive, and being near him was pure joy.

We returned to the hotel for a quick shower before dinner, and after we ate, we walked around the area to see the holiday decorations. There weren’t many, but it was interesting how festive palm trees strung with lights could look.

We ended up hitting one of the nearby bars, which was surprisingly crowded considering it was Christmas Eve. We ordered IPAs and leaned against a wall, watching the action. It wasn’t long before the women began circling; Miami had no shortage of gorgeous, confident females, and they weren’t shy.

Chuck and I went along with it, buying drinks, laughing at their jokes, and letting them cling to our arms. Soon, two women—a beautiful blonde and a shapely redhead—asked us to dance. The redhead took Chuck’s hand, and the blonde reached for mine. We let them lead us into the writhing mass of dancers, pressing our way in and forcing people to make room.

The band was cranking out good tunes, so we stayed on the dance floor for a couple of songs. The blonde I was dancing with was a knockout, but I couldn’t keep my eyes off Chuck, who seemed to be having fun with the redhead. When he’d said he needed to teach me to dance, he hadn’t been kidding. He and “his” girl tore up the place, moving like pros, and the people around them practically came to a standstill as they watched them do their thing.

They made a great-looking couple, and I wondered if she was Chuck’s type. We’d never really talked about that. My stomach twisted into knots as I thought about what could happen. Chuck and I had come here to spend the break together, not to…

Screw me and my weird thoughts. It wouldn’t be any of my business if he took her to the bathroom and fucked her senseless. Yes, he and I were doing things most guys didn’t do together, but wewerestraight. We wouldn’t be able to go without women for long.

I tried to focus on the blonde. There was something very sensual about the way she moved, and old habits kicked in. I got behind her and placed my hands on her hips while I moved in and brushed against her.What the fuck?Doing this used to get me hard, but my dick didn’t even bother to yawn. When she pushed back toward me, I ground against her. Still nothing. My dick may as well have been asleep.

When the band took a break, the four of us met up. I ground my teeth, wondering if Chuck had something in mind with the redhead. Apparently not, though, because after a moment of small talk, he wished her a Merry Christmas. I followed suit with the blonde, and the girls hesitantly walked away.

I looked at Chuck, and our eyes caught. My stomach loosened for the first time since we started dancing. When he licked his lips, a powerful urge to kiss him washed over me, but I couldn’t do it. Since a couple of people had already clocked us and held up their phones to take pictures, I did what I could: I looked at him like he was the most important thing in the world.

Fuck it to hell. I may have been confused, but I was glad the blonde and redhead were gone.

A nearby table had opened up, and we claimed it. After a server brought two more IPAs, it wasn’t long before more women were saying hello and asking us to dance. We politely declined, but that didn’t stop them from trying. After a whispered conference, we agreed to ask two of them to sit with us. At least that should stop the parade.

A brunette was soon in the chair beside me, and yet another redhead claimed Chuck. It was like a repeat of what had happened that time in Buffalo. The brunette kept putting her hand on my dick, and I kept pushing it away. She didn’t take the hint. I figured Chuck must be dealing with the same thing since the redhead’s hands were out of sight and he kept jumping like he was being electrocuted.

Another time, I might have laughed, but this was too much. It should have been fun. Except for the last few months, I’d always enjoyed picking up women, and from what he’d told me, Chuck had too. Hookups may not have been what I needed, but at least they satisfied my sexual urges and gave me nights off from loneliness. That had been before Chuck.

Our new companions were practically screaming they were DTF. We could have taken them back to our room and fucked all night if we’d wanted to. I wondered if we should, if it would remind us of who we really were. We were enjoying each other, but we were straight. Straight men fucked women.

Yet the entire time we sat there, no matter how much I tried to convince myself it would be the right thing to do, I kept looking at Chuck. I lost myself in watching how his eyes crinkled when he laughed, how his fingers drummed on the table, keeping time with the music, and how even in this neon-lit chaos, he was the hottest person in the room.

The brunette had eased off for a while, but she pressed in close again and ran a hand up my thigh. She was gorgeous—long hair, killer smile, and tits for days—but I wasn’t into it. Maybe some other time.

Chuck caught my eye, and something passed between us. The woman beside him whispered in his ear, but he kept his gaze fixed on me. It wasn’t long before we made excuses and called it a night. The women tried to convince us to stay, but we had to get out of there. It was fine because they wouldn’t have any trouble finding what they were looking for.

Instead of going back to the hotel, we detoured to the beach. The moon was low over the water, and its silver reflection rippled across the waves. We took off our shoes and walked beside the water. Our feet sank into the wet sand, and the only sounds were the distant rumble of traffic and gentle crash of the surf.

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