Page 39 of Misconduct Zone

He’s barefoot with his backward cap on and a smug smile. “Me?” He feigns innocence and puts a cake in the oven. “Couch?”

We sit in the middle, facing each other. “I forgot to mention my year of sobriety.”

I lace our fingers together, tamping down the worry. He didn’t need to say anything, I’ve been tracking as closely as he has.

“My sponsor thinks I should celebrate, but I don’t have any ideas about what to do besides you.”

I pretend to think hard. “We can work that into the after-party.” He grins, and I turn serious. “You deserve a celebration. Should we plan a dinner? You have talked about telling some of our friends about last year. Or it could be a regular dinner, and you don’t say anything about the significance. We could go to the American Museum of Natural History and check out the animal exhibits.” I pause, giving him time to think about his options.

“All of the above?” His shy smile flips my stomach.

“So greedy.” I tug him onto my lap. “You should have everything you want.”

His arms loop around my neck, and he grinds on me. “I have everything I want right here.”

His declaration soothes my fears. He is in my arms and as addicted to our physical relationship as I am. We communicate through touch and lose ourselves in each other’s bodies.

“Live in the moment with me,” I plead. Each moment with him is better than the last, and I am determined to devote myself to him and our time together. The future will come, but worrying will not change it.

“Always.” Dylon sucks my tongue into his mouth, and I whimper, willing to do whatever it takes to make him happy.

Chapter 21

Dylon

Lars kisses the side of my head. “Breathe, you got this.”

Hosting a dinner is more stressful than I imagined, and although the guys have my back, I’m nervous.

“Get all your kisses out now,” I warn, grabbing his belt loop and tugging him to me. “Unless you wanna put on a show for the team.” There’s a flash in his eyes, and he might be down for that. We lose ourselves in each other as his tongue reverently brushes mine. His kisses are sweet and sultry, the perfect combination, an expression of his adoration and intent on getting me naked.

The buzzer rings, and we jump apart.

“You look thoroughly debauched.” Lars finger-combs my hair, gives up, and jams my hat on my head. “Luckily, your lips always look sinful and red.”

Of course, my dick gets hard, and the buzzer rings again. “I’ll get the door. You put on different pants.” I eye the tent he’s sporting.

Patrik doesn’t get a word in as his fiancé orders us around as soon as I open the door. “We ran into the food delivery.” He waves at Patrik, who is holding several boxes of food. “In the kitchen?” he asks, sweeping by me. “Honey, you don’t have serving dishes out.”

“I thought we’d serve ourselves from the containers?” I ask it as a question even though it’s my plan.

“Men.” Trevor rolls his eyes, and Patrik chuckles.

“Now you’ve done it,” Patrik says under his breath as he passes me.

Trevor could moonlight as a party planner if his fashion line falls through. But I admit, his touches create the picture of an adult dinner party instead of a bunch of dudes eating at the same location.

“This is why we came early.” Trevor lifts onto his tippy toes and kisses Patrik, who grabs him around the waist.

They’re so in love, it’s inspiring to witness them unguarded and open with their affection. I glance at Lars but can’t understand his expression. It’s wistful, like it’s something he’s not allowed to have.

Patrik baked his famous chocolate lava cake, and Trevor gets all goo-goo-eyed when he talks about it.

More guests arrive, and sweat drips down my back. Today is the anniversary of the day I committed to my recovery. The anniversary of my overdose was a couple of weeks ago, but this marks the day I realized I had a problem and pledged to fix it.

Ace and Gray arrive and, when asked about their wardrobe choices, get into an argument about who had to change. They squabble like an old married couple.

“The party has arrived,” Caleb announces, handing me a bunch of flowers. “These are from both of us.” He gestures to Mason. “But someone thinks you can show up empty-handed.” Mason doesn’t look convinced. Fortunately for me, Trevor grabs the flowers and finds a makeshift vase.

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