Page 6 of Safe
“Game?”
“Yeah, we have a game tomorrow. Remember?”
“Oh God…” Cruz groaned and Trevor chuckled.
“Good night.”
“Mmm, good night.”
Trevor brushed aside Cruz’s hair, and then he forced himself to push up off of him. He dragged himself to his feet and spent far too long staring at his suddenly unconscious friend. They’d have to talk tomorrow which meant Trevor would have to make his decision soon.
Cruz or baseball? He loved them both. But he could only have one.
He scrubbed a hand over his face and went to get a water out of the mini-fridge. Sober up. Think. Because tomorrow was going to be a really, really long day.
Chapter Three
CRUZ COULD HEARthe sound of his name. Somewhere far away. From somewhere, through the fog of his dreams, he heard his name in a deep, demanding voice. It floated in over the incredible dream he was having, one in which the man of his dreams shoved him against a wall and ground their bodies together, whispered dirty things in his ear that made him moan. Then his name came again, louder, and Trevor’s mouth in his dream was too busy gliding down his throat to have said it. Cruz’s brain whirled in confusion a second before something heavy and damp smacked him in the face.
“What the hell?” Cruz sat upright with a jolt and then winced and slammed his eyes shut when the world shifted all around him. His stomach twisted, and bile rose in the back of his throat. He curled in on himself and rubbed at his temples. “What the hell?”
“Cruz.” Trevor repeated his name again. “Time to get up.”
“Wha—no.” Cruz squinted one eye open enough to look at what had fallen in his lap, a damp towel, and frowned. “Why are you throwing things at me?”
“Because I’ve said your name twenty fucking times and I let you sleep as long as I could. Get up and take a shower. Sober up and do it fast. We’re gonna be late.”
Cruz continued to massage his temples but twisted his head enough to catch a glimpse of Trevor. His body instantly came awake at the sight before him. The damp towel made sense now, and he had to resist the urge to pull it back up over his face, to smell it to see if it smelled like freshly showered, naked Trevor.
Not that Trevor was naked. Unfortunately. He had a second towel slung low around his hips. Droplets of water still slid down the hard planes of his chest, finding the valleys between his abs and the golden trail of hair that led to that damn towel. His hair was still damp and sticking up all over the place from where he’d shoved the towel through it before throwing it at Cruz. Steam billowed out of the bathroom behind him, and more than anything Cruz wanted to drag Trevor back into the shower and get him dirty all over again.
Instead, he forced his eyes away before Trevor caught him gawking. “Why does my head feel like I slammed it in a door?”
“Because tequila is a bitch?”
He snorted at the words that sounded oddly familiar. He agreed. Completely. In fact, he’d sworn off tequila after his twenty-first birthday. It had a tendency to make him black out and forget…everything. He wasn’t sure why he’d decided to drink it last night instead of sticking to beer like he normally did. Especially considering they had a game today.
It was stupid, and he tried not to be stupid these days.
“Cruz?”
“Huh?” He forced his eyes back open, hardly realizing he’d even closed them again.
“Shower. Now.” Trevor used his commanding tone of voice, and before Cruz had registered the order his body was moving, complying.
Confused and more than a little sick to his stomach, Cruz trudged across the room. He slid past Trevor, careful not to brush against him. His morning wood was barely concealed in his boxers. It wasn’t as if Trevor hadn’t seen it before considering the locker rooms they’d shared. But for some reason he couldn’t explain, it felt awkward this morning. He shot a glance over his shoulder, caught Trevor watching him from beneath furrowed brows, and retreated to the bathroom.
He didn’t dare ask the question he wanted to ask. Again. Which was… What the hell?
He went through the motions, turning on the shower to let it heat up and brushing his teeth as his brain tried to catch up with reality and put together his night. They’d gone for drinks. He’d gotten really drunk. He shouldn’t have because drinking with Trevor was a bad idea. He’d known it was a bad idea, but he hadn’t stopped himself when they’d gotten on that elevator alone and he’d…
Oh shit…he’d told Trevor he wanted to kiss him.
It hit him then. Sobriety. Consciousness. Reality. It hit him and he knew; his dream hadn’t been a dream. The images of shoving Trevor against the elevator wall and then being pinned himself, those weren’t fantasies. They were memories.
His breath caught, and his head shot up as the hair on the back of his neck stood on edge. His jerked his head up and darted his eyes up to meet the blue laser beams behind him in the mirror. Trevor was standing in the doorway of the bathroom, his shoulder against the wall as if he was holding the entire damn building up. His biceps bulged where he’d crossed his arms over his chest. He was still shirtless, but he’d pulled on his pants. Half-naked and hard-edged, he pushed up from the wall, and Cruz didn’t dare breathe, let alone move.
“I was wondering how long it would take you to remember.”
