Page 31 of Snapping the Ice
Opening my beer, I fell in next to Ezra, but not as close as I’d been at his place. I didn’t want Evan getting any ideas.
Evan sat on the loveseat and sipped his beer. “So, tell me what happened.”
“My boyfriend got physical with me, and I broke up with him.” Ezra drank some beer. “End of story.” His gaze cut to Evan’s. “I’m not going back to him.”
Nodding, Evan said, “Well, you have us now.” He grinned at me. “Right, Hopkins?”
“Right.” Obviously, Ezra didn’t want to talk any more about it tonight.
We talked about photography with Ezra for about an hour while we finished our beers and then readied for bed. I let Ezra use my bathroom, since I had the primary bedroom.
My bathroom door swung open, and Ezra stepped out, wearing only pajama bottoms, his slender chest hairless.
I rose from the edge of my bed, my cock on high alert. What was it about him that had my dick so confused? “You okay?” I walked to him and skimmed my hand down his arm.
“I’m fine. I just need some sleep. It’s been an exhausting day.” The skin on his arm pebbled, and he shivered.
“Are you cold?” I threaded my fingers in his. A part of me wanted him in my bed tonight to keep him close. But the other part was terrified as fuck of what might happen.
“No.” He shook his head once and took a sharp inhale. “Lucas…” He leaned against me, hooking an arm around my waist. “It’s hitting me. All the bullshit I tolerated the last year.” His breath hitched. “I let it happen.”
“It’s not your fault.” I skimmed my lips across his hair, breathing in the musky scent of him. My balls tingled with warmth. Shit, now was not the time.
“But it is my fault. A healthy person wouldn’t tolerate his shit for this long.” He rested his cheek on my shoulder. “Something’s wrong with me.”
“No, it isn’t.” As I brushed my hand up the soft skin of his back, my breath quickened, and heat burned low in my belly. I nuzzled his hair, creeping my lips toward his cheek. God, hefelt amazing in my arms. I wanted to touch all of him. “Tate manipulated you and left you lonely.”
He lifted his head, his darkened gaze locking on mine, his brows tensing. In a whisper, he said, “Lucas, what are you?—”
“Oh, shit. I’m sorry.” I freed him and stepped back, a chuckle springing from my throat. “I-I don’t know.” I was out of line for sure. Twisting away from him, I bit my thumbnail. What the actual fuck was wrong with me?
“I should go to bed.” He padded from the room, a soft click echoing as he shut my door.
A few hours later, I lay in bed, staring at my ceiling. I felt possessed. It was the only way to explain what was happening to me. Ezra possessed me somehow. I rolled to my side, tucking my hand under my pillow. Maybe I should talk to Mason’s friend, Rowan. It couldn’t hurt.
Was Ezra asleep, or was he lying there, thinking about things too? If he was awake, maybe he needed to talk? Fuck it. I threw my covers off and stepped out of bed. I’d just check and if he were asleep, I’d come back to bed. Pursing my lips, I opened my door and padded to the couch.
In the faint glow of the light in the oven’s hood in the kitchen, Ezra lay on his side with the blanket drawn to his chin, eyes closed and breath soft and even.
He’d been able to fall asleep. I knelt beside him, my gaze roaming his pretty face, the piercing in his brow, the strong nose and angled cheekbones. No wonder Tate wouldn’t let him go. Who would? He was more special than he gave himself credit for. I touched a lock of his hair, hanging over the blanket.
With his eyes fluttering open, he startled and propped on an elbow. “Lucas? Iseverything okay?”
I tore my hand away.Fuck, fuck, fuck. “Sorry, I just wanted to make sure you could sleep. Guess you were, but I woke you.”
“I was having bad dreams, anyway.” He rose to sitting and swiped hair from his face. “Come sit with me.” He patted the cushion next to him.
With a nod, I climbed in beside him. I had to keep my cool. “What were you dreaming about?”
He edged to my side, leaning against me. “Do you mind if I do this?”
“No, hell no.” I draped an arm over his shoulders. But didn’t this get me into trouble earlier? I refrained from sniffing his hair. But fuck, I wanted to.
“The dreams were a mess of images, but I remember being outside a garage and Tate showing up. I tried to run away, but my legs wouldn’t work.” He rested a hand on my abs, heat sparking to my dick.
Fucking hell. I breathed in deeply. I had to pretend this wasn’t turning me the fuck on. My cock filled and lengthened toward my hip inside my briefs. I glanced at my groin. He couldn’t see it, could he? It was too dark. “Uh, yeah? I think that’s a standard dream for someone in your situation.” I was spewing gibberish.
He brushed his cheek against the top of my chest. “Yeah, guess so.”
