“You cut your hair,” he said, taking me by surprise. Of everything, that wasn’t what I expected.

“Yeah.”

Brilliant, Nash. Brilliant. What’s your follow-up? Uh-huh?

He nodded and I wondered if he hated it.

“I just thought I’d clean it up a little, so you wouldn’t be embarrassed tonight. I’d imagine any guy you go to these things with must look like he’s in GQ.”

Porter closed the distance between us, his hand curling on my hip, and I stiffened, my eyes going wide as I stared at him. It was only through sheer will I didn’t reflexively pull back from the surprisingly intimate touch and his proximity.

“Firstly, I wouldn’t be embarrassed by you—short hair or longer hair. Secondly, I have never brought anyone with me. That’s why my cousins are always trying to set me up. So, I guess, about the GQ comment… Yeah, when I do bring someone he looks like he could be in GQ. You look amazing. But I like regular you, as well.”

“Thanks. You look great, too. I… Why are you so close?”

“Because. I want to be. And, supposedly, we’ve been dating. You need to be used to me being in your space.” He leaned closer, so close he could have kissed me and I tasted the mint on his breath. “It would help sell the story if you didn’t flinch away.”

“I didn’t.”

He laughed in my face as he backed up. “You did. I thought you were going to run for you room and lock the door.”

“Fuck off, Porter,” I groused, hating that he made me sound like some virginal Victorian girl.

He moved in close again, and I forced myself to stay still. Still a slight shiver went though me at the prickles that erupted across my skin when h leaned in and his breath wafted over my ear. “Time to go.”

My hand flattened on his belly and pushed him away.

“Fucker,” I muttered at his playing with me. “I’d punch you in the gut, but it would probably break my hand.”

He laughed, grabbing my hand and pulling me toward the door. I tugged. “No one’s around to see.”

“Like I said…” His grip tightened. “You need to get used to it. Today, you’re gay and this is normal…boyfriend.”

I just growled under my breath. He wasn’t wrong, I supposed. I just liked the sensation of his hand around mine way too much, and I was having a difficult time controlling my reactions.

My chest tight, I was alert for anyone in our building who might see us. There were plenty who’d have opinions and gossip about the jock holding hands with his geeky roommate, but no one seemed to be about that evening, which was super strange but a relief. I wasn’t ready to jump out of the closet I’d kept myself firmly closed in.

Outside, a limo waited at the curb for us, and a driver popped out to open the door for us when she saw us.

“A limo?” I murmured, surprised we weren’t taking his Caddy XLR.

“Only the best, sweetheart.”

Startled by his calling me that, I glanced over and found him smirking.

“My dad sent it,” he revealed. “Since I might drink at their anniversary party, he wanted to be sure I was shuttled back and forth in style and safety.”

“Wait…it’s your parents’ anniversary?” I asked as soon as we were settled in the plush, leather upholstered backseat of the limo, his hand still firmly around mine. “I didn’t bring a gift.”

He patted the side of his suit coat, and I heard a quiet crinkle. “No worries. I got us covered. A gift from both of us. All you need to worry about is being with me.”

He squeezed my hand and it didn’t seem quite as unnatural. I could do this. It was only for one night, and I could indulge in the secret fantasies I kept locked away—at leastsomeof them. Others would stay right where they were, never to see fruition.

Four

Porter

Game time.