Straight boys be damned.
After I finally manage to get my dick under control, I emerge from the bathroom, scanning the club for any sign of Xander. The dance floor is a tangle of writhing bodies, the strobe lights painting the scene in a kaleidoscope of colors but he's nowhere to be seen.
Small miracles. Maybe he left already.
I weave through the crowd toward the exit, anticipation building with every step. Almost there, almost free, the night can still be salvaged—
"Leaving so soon?"
I freeze in my tracks at the sound of that familiar voice, rough and teasing. A shiver runs down my spine as Xander steps into view, leaning casually against the wall with his arms crossed, watching me with a self-satisfied little smirk.
He looks fucking edible in those tight black jeans and a blue V-neck shirt that clings to his sculpted chest, showing off the hard lines of muscle beneath. I want to sink my teeth into him. Mark him. Claim him.
I clear my throat, dragging my gaze up to his face. "Yeah, I've got an early morning."
It's a weak excuse and we both know it.
I try to step around Xander, but he blocks my path, arms still crossed over his chest.
"Look—" I start, but he cuts me off.
"You look," he says, his tone firm. "Here's what's gonna happen. We're gonna be friends."
I raise an eyebrow. "Friends?"
"Yeah. Friends. We'll hang out, get to know each other." He shrugs. "See where it goes from there."
I snort. "Where it goes? You mean in a strictly platonic sense, I assume."
Xander rolls his eyes. "Obviously."
His conviction is amusing. How can someone be simultaneously hot as sin and adorable? It seems impossible, yet here we are.
"I don't do platonic," I tell him.
"Well, you're gonna have to make an exception." He jabs a finger at my chest. "I'm not done."
I bite back a grin. Feisty little thing, isn't he? "You're bossy. I don't do bossy either."
Xander huffs out an annoyed breath. "Good. We've established doing me is out of the question."
I arch an eyebrow. "Have we? I don't recall that discussion."
He holds out his hand, palm up. "Give me your phone."
I frown. "Why do you need my phone?"
"I'll pawn it for rent money." His lips twitch. "Come on, don't be difficult."
I hesitate, then dig my phone from my pocket and drop it into his waiting hand.
Xander taps at the screen, then hands it back. "There. My number's in. I sent myself a text, but feel free to reach out first."
He turns to leave, and I stare after him, stunned. The whole "just friends" thing is bullshit and we both know it. If hewasn't so fucking tempting, it might be safe. But the truth is, all I want is to pin him to the floor and have my way with him.
Xander glances over his shoulder, catching me staring, and winks. "See you around, Citizen Boo."
Then he's gone, disappearing into the crowd and leaving me painfully hard with a racing pulse and a head full of filthy thoughts.