Page 21 of A Match Made In Evan
Closing his eyes, he seems resigned to his fate, even though he tries to protest with a weak, “Ev…”
“Wasn’t it awesome for you? Because I haven’t come that hard in…fuck, I can’t even remember.”
His blush deepens, running down his neck and beneath the collar of his shirt. It’s adorable.
How have I never realised just how cute he is?
“You know it was,” he mumbles and sets his unbitten slice of pizza back inside the cardboard box, shutting the lid to preserve the warmth. “But we also said—”
“I said if it was weird or bad we wouldn’t talk about it. But it wasn’t either of those things.”
Finally, he brings his grey-green eyes up to meet mine. They flash withsomething. It’s an undefinable emotion. “You don’t think it’s weird?”
“Why? Because we’re two men who, until that happened, said we were both straight?”
I haven’t really given much thought to what enjoying kissing and jerking off another man means for my sexual identity,because in the end I’m still me, but maybe James feels differently.
He rolls his eyes. “Because you’ve been my best friend since pre-school.”
Oh, I think.
“Oh,” I say out loud. Then I frown. “Why would that make it weird? If anything, it proves the point about what we’ve been telling the school. We’re just that comfortable with each other.”
“I…” he starts to argue, then closes his mouth. “Well, I guess that’s true.”
“And it’s only weird if we make it weird, right? Like…we can just be guys pretending to be in love and engaged, who get each other off behind closed doors. Nothing strange about that at all.”
My best friend chuckles a little at that pronouncement. “Nothing strange about that?” he echoes with incredulity. “Really?Nothing?”
“We’re best friends, Jay. This is the ultimate friends-with-benefits deal, isn’t it? We’ve already acknowledged that we can’t risk hooking up with anyone locally, and we both clearly need a bit of a release thatisn’tby our own hands, so…why not keep helping each other out while we’re doing this fake engagement thing? And when it all ends, we’ll still be mates, and we can go and date again.”
“Riiiight,” he stretches the word out, arching one of his perfect, blond eyebrows. “It’s that simple, is it?”
“Does it have to be complicated? I get off, you get off, we’re all each other’s got until we can call the engagement off. Hey,” I grin, “that was almost poetic.”
“Yeah, in the same way one times ten isalmostone hundred.”
The fact that he’s cracking jokes is a good sign.
“So?” I prod in much the same way as I used to do when we were kids. “You in?”
He licks his lips, then nods almost imperceptibly. My whoop of victory is forestalled by his index finger being held up in front of my face. “We’re going to need ground rules.”
“Like?”
“Like not telling Mia. It’ll confuse her.”
“She’s practically an adult,” I argue, but then give it a little further thought. “But she might get the wrong impression, or ask questions we don’t have answers to, so…okay.”
“And it’s just helping each other out. Nothing else about our friendship or our fake engagement changes.”
“Well, duh. It’s not like we need to take each other on dates or anything. You’re already guaranteed entry into my pants.” I waggle my eyebrows at him.
He rolls his eyes. “And there’s no expectation of…penetration,” he cringes as he says the word, and takes a sip of his beer, probably in a bid to cover his discomfort.
He issonot getting away with that.
“You’ve never had a girl play with your prostate while blowing you?”
