Page 53 of The Lineman

“Something gay,” I muttered, shifting to get more comfortable. “I demand romance.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You sure you don’t want an action movie? Something with explosions? Maybe a basketball flick?”

I gave him a deadpan look. “Elliot. I sat through an entire basketball practice for you. Give me my gay romcom.”

“For me? I don’t recall needing sprints or drills in my life again.” He acted shocked. “Why did you sit through practice?”

We talked while he scrolled, searching through an endless stream of options and finding nothing worthy of our attention. I spoke of Jamie, his coming out, then detailed dinner with Mateo. We were growing into fast friends. I wasn’t sure why, but that made Elliot smile.

His scrolling stopped when he landed on a movie I’d heard about but hadn’t gotten around to watching. I perked up. “Ooh, that one’s supposed to be good. Also, apparently, super spicy.”

He blinked. “Spicy?”

“Oh, yeah. Like, steamy within the first ten minutes.” I grinned wickedly. “Butts and dicks on display and everything!”

Elliot hesitated . . . but I was already snuggled into his couch, looking so content and soft that he just pressed play.

Which, in hindsight, was a mistake.

Because I wasn’t lying.

Ten minutes in, and there were hands in pants. Mouths everywhere. A bad situation that was rapidly escalating.

Elliot shifted uncomfortably. He swallowed. Hard.

He shifted again, and I was sure he was thinking about anything that might keep his jeans from tenting. Power lines. Broken circuits. The last time he got electrocuted on the job. Mrs. Henderson.

I snickered, a slurry, drunken sound.

Elliot froze, then slowly turned his head.

I was watching him.

Not the movie. Elliot.

And I was smirking.

He scowled. “What?”

My eyes dropped—boldly, shamelessly—to his lap, then back up to his face.

“Oh, nothing,” I said innocently.

He clenched his jaw. “Mike.”

My smirk widened.

Then I shifted closer. Not a lot. Just enough that I could feel the warmth of his thigh, the weight of his presence.

Elliot swallowed hard.

My dick pulsed.

I knewexactlywhat I was doing, and I was having the time of my life. I sighed, deliberately settling further into the couch. “So comfy,” I murmured.

He exhaled sharply, gripping the remote like a lifeline.

“You need to relax,” I said.

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