Page 58 of Sweet Shots

Emmet is standing on the other side, pissed.

I tap my stomach. “Sorry, I had to take a massive shit.”

“Uh-huh,” he mutters, staring at Mikah, who is probably as red as a strawberry. I pull the door open more, jerking my head for Mikah to go. He scurries out of the bathroom, and I pat Emmet on the back as I follow after my boyfriend.

He walks more confidently than I’ve seen before, leading us back to the table. Our empty bottles still sit there. Mikah grabs them up. “I’ll get us another.”

“I’m going to let them know I got next game,” I say, winking.

His eyes flash, and he nods. As he takes a step away, I grip his wrist and pull him to me, kissing him. I nibble on his bottom lip, eliciting a soft moan and a breathy sigh. His eyes flutter open when I let him go, and he continues on to the bar as I go to Storm.

“So, is that serious?” he asks, chalking up his stick.

“Don’t know yet,” I answer honestly. “Hope so.”

“How the hell are you going to manage being in a relationship with the work you do? Does he even know?”

“Of course he knows. He does the same shit, and we made a video together.”

Storm chuckles, shaking his head. “That sounds like a disaster waiting to happen.”

“You never plan on settling down?” I ask.

He shrugs. “No.” He draws the word out, then adds, “I’m happy where I’m at.”

“Yeah, well, give it a few years.”

Storm rolls his eyes. He’s a few years younger than me, not any amount that matters. Pretty sure Mikah is younger than him. Though, now that I think about it, I don’t know how old Mikah is. He’s my boyfriend now, so I should probably know these things.

I do think they should talk and share info. They both do solo content, only Storm has made a shit ton of money around selling soiled things. And by soiled I mean cummed on. People literally pay for him to come on clothing and mail it to them. I think he’s nuts, sending his DNA out there like that, but he’s fine with it. Says no one can get pregnant with it and that’s all he’s worried about. There are a million things that could go wrong with that, but whatever. It’s his business.

Actually, now that I think about it, maybe I don’t want him talking to Mikah. The last thing I need is him getting ideas todo this shit and something going wrong. He’ll spiral. Yeah, best they not talk about that stuff.

“I’m playing winner,” I say.

“Leon was leaving after this game. You can take his spot. On my team.” Storm grins knowingly.

From the corner of my eye, I spot Mikah walking toward me. He hands me the beer, then takes a sip from his.

“Thanks, baby,” I whisper, kissing his neck. “You sure you don’t want to play?”

“I’m sure,” he says.

“You can hang out over here to watch, if you want,” Storm suggests, leaning over the table to take his shot. He sinks the 14 ball into the back left pocket and straightens with a smirk.

Mikah raises a brow, shakes his head and walks away to go sit. I chuckle, standing back as the guys finish their game. I’ve never met Leon before, but I wave to him when he leaves.

“Dominic, this is Chester and Zed.” He gestures to the other guys, who give me a head nod, so I return it. “This is Dominic.”

Zed, a guy who looks like he could pass for a vampire, works on racking the balls. He’s pale, with black hair pulled into a messy bun and dark eyes. He’s dressed in black jeans and a black shirt, which doesn’t help the situation.

Chester has 90s heart-throb blond hair that looks so soft it seems fake. He’s in a white t-shirt and jeans. Leave it to Storm to be in a bright pink shirt, making sure everyone sees him. The show always has to be all about him.

“So, what are you doing here?” I ask. “Did your mom move?”

“Nah,” Storm answers. “Just visiting a friend in the area. She’s still in Seattle.”

“You heading that way before going back to Boston?”

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