Page 110 of Lucky Boys
I swallowed. If I were Brooks or Skye, I’d say something like, “Yeah, your dick.” But I was me, so I just said, “No. Thanks.” Fucking lame. Wes didn’t seem frustrated though.
“Okay, I’ll take the tray. You know where to find me if you need me.” And then he left.
I had just settled at my desk to get back to work when my phone buzzed. It was a message from Brooks.
I opened it and immediately started to crack up. It was a picture of him holding up a cucumber the size of his fucking face. Skye was next to him and was licking his cheek.
The message read:B: Do you think this will fit . . . in my suitcase.
I rolled my eyes even if he couldn’t see that.Diego: Don’t come to me when that thing gets stuck inside you.
Brooks responded with a string of emojis: the shocked eyes, the arms crossing in the no sign, and the monkey covering its eyes.
B: Please, I’m not an amateur. No food anywhere but my mouth. Wait, that sounds kinda dirty too.
Laughing, I was struck with an idea. A wild idea. I didn’t know if I’d have the courage to actually do it, but I got up and left the office, traveling to Wes’s room, where I figured he’d gone to shower. He hadn’t been sleeping there most nights, as we either crashed in the office, on the couch, or in my room, but I knew he still cleaned up in there most of the time.
My heart was beating out of my chest by the time I got to the door. He had it partially open and I could hear the water running. I took a deep breath and pushed the bedroom door all the way open before I had second thoughts. He’d even told me I knew where to find him, and he’d left the door open. If he didn’t want me here, he would’ve locked it. This was fine. I was fine.
I stepped into the bedroom. It was pretty much empty besides a couple suitcases and an old gym bag. On the bed, he had laid out a pair of black pants and a button-up shirt. Professional.
The bathroom door was wide open and I could hear Wes humming to himself. He did that a lot. I never knew what he was trying to hum, he was pretty fucking tone deaf, but whenever he was doing mindless tasks, like cooking, showering, cleaning up, he’d hum. I was becoming addicted to the tuneless songs.
I walked into the bathroom. Wes was standing directly under the stream. The glass door was fogged, but I still could make him out clearly. He had his head tilted back so the water streamed down his face and body. I didn’t know how he dealt with the stream hitting his face like that, but it didn’t bother him. He soaped up his body with the loofah in his hand and just sang and swayed to himself.
I cleared my throat, suddenly feeling awkward. Wes startled, his head snapping in my direction. He immediately relaxed when he saw it was me.
“Is everything okay, angel?”
“Um, yeah. I just.” Now I felt silly. “I wanted to take a picture, but now that I’m here, I feel dumb.”
Wes shut off the water, still sudsy and everything. He opened the door, grabbed a fluffy white towel, wrapped it around his waist, and walked immediately toward me. I stood still as stone, completely hypnotized by the water and soap dripping down his chest.
“Diego, talk to me. What’s wrong?”
Like I could say something coherent now. He’d stopped his damn shower for me. So instead, I just held up my phone and showed the text thread.
Wes read it, confused at first, but then his face cleared. “Did you want to send Brooks back a picture, angel? Is that why you came in here?”
“Yeah.”
“I love it. I got an idea. Can I touch you?”
A shiver ran through my body, but it wasn’t fear. I nodded. “Y-yes.”
Wes maneuvered us so he was standing behind me. “I’m going to touch your waist. Let me know if I need to stop.”
Gah, this man was going to be the death of me. He was so fucking sweet. Right now, though, I really wanted to know what that big hand felt like on my waist.
“Okay.” He went so slow, putting light pressure at first, until I started to breathe easier, and then he held me a little tighter. He angled my phone up and then snapped a picture.
When he showed it to me, I grinned, thrilled. At the angle he’d taken it from, there was a perfect view of Wes’s wet, half-naked body. You could even see some of the towel.
“That’s perfect. Brooks is gonna lose his shit.”
Wes squeezed my hip just once before backing off. “I’m always here whenever you want to torment your brother.”
I hit send. Brooks responded almost immediately, but I never got a chance to look at it because an alert came through that I had set up if there was a hit on any of the multiple searches I had running constantly.
