22. Daire

TWENTY-TWO

daire

MAN, IT WASN’T often I was proud of myself, but tonight I deserved a fucking medal.

Leaning back in the leather swivel chair in my room, I kicked my feet up on the matching footrest. The only thing that could have possibly made me feel better was if I’d been there to witnessed Trevor the Tool’s precious car being towed away. A lone tear rolling down his cheek as it faded into the distance…

I didn’t feel bad. I mean, why would I? It was Gavin’s fault.

If he hadn’t been so hellbent on torturing me these past few days, then he would still have a ride home tonight. As it was, I had a feeling he’d be calling up Scotty or Ubering it back home, since Trevor would no doubt be glued to his phone, trying to work out where to go to get back his precious cargo.

I glanced over at my guitar in the corner, wondering if maybe I should pen an ode to Trevor’s misfortune. But in the end I opted for scooping up the rectangular tin sitting on the glass side table to my left and flipping open the lid. Yeah, this was what I needed. Nestled inside were several wraps, a small grinder, and some of the finest weed money could buy, Caviar Gold.

Setting the tin aside, I ground the weed down so it would burn more evenly, then I unfolded the wrap and brought it to my lips to wet it before loading it up.

There was something about the process I found rewarding, even relaxing, as I began to squeeze and roll the blunt between my fingers before snatching up my lighter to seal it. Then I started in on a second one.

I’d usually save this for a night out with the guys, but drinking wasn’t enough of a celebration for what I’d pulled off tonight. So I’d decided to pull out the big guns and enjoy.

I got to my feet and opened the small window in my room to allow some of the smoke to escape, then I slumped back down in my seat and lit up. The view of the skyline kept me company as I drifted off into my happy place.

The music had a nice, throbbing bass to match my mood—no need for my alternative bands tonight—as I blew smoke rings up above my head and let the last few days of torture leave my body.

I was about halfway through my first blunt when I heard the distinct sound of the front door being flung open, followed by a loud slam and stomping footsteps.

Footsteps, I noted with a big smile, that could belong to only one person.

Just as I’d predicted, Trevor hadn’t even bothered seeing Gavin home. Nope, he was probably busy trying to track down his one true love—his douchemobile.

“Daire!”

My name echoed up the hall and into my room, even over the bass pulsing out of my sound system. But if Gavin thought I was about to get up, he was out of his mind.

“Daire! I know you’re in—” Gavin came to a halt somewhere behind me as I blew out another set of rings, high above my head, knowing how much it pissed him off when I smoked in the condo. “What the hell are you doing?”

I brought my feet down from the footrest and toed the floor, spinning the chair until I was facing my fulminating roommate, who was standing in the doorway.

“I’m relaxing.” I brought the blunt up to my lips and inhaled before blowing out the smoke in his direction. “Well, I was until you stormed in here screaming.”

Gavin planted his hands on his hips, probably annoyed and irritated—but to me he looked like a pissed-off librarian. You know, someone who was trying to be all scary and mad but failed.

“I wasn’t screaming.”

“You drowned out my fuckin’ music. So you weren’t exactly whispering.”

“I—” Gavin’s teeth clicked shut as he stomped further into my bedroom, glaring down at me. “Did you get Trevor’s car towed tonight?”

It took everything I had to keep my shit-eating grin to myself. “Oh no. His car got towed?”

Gavin kicked at my booted foot. “Cut the crap, Daire. I know you did it. Let me guess, you tipped off the valet?”

I liked to think my stealthy moves were harder to work out than that, but clearly Gavin knew me better than I’d realized.

“I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.” I spun back to face the wall of windows, but Gavin stormed around until he was standing between me and the skyline.

“Bullshit. Why else would Trevor’s car be towed when he paid someone to park it? Oh, I know—someone called up the valet and offered a pretty good tip if he parked illegally.”

“That’s a pretty crazy theory you’re running with there.” I held up my blunt. “Maybe the smoke’s getting to you.”

“Or maybe you are. You sabotaged my date.”

“And why in the hell would I do that?”

“Because you’re too chickenshit to admit that you want to date me.”

I snorted. “I don’t want to date you.”

“Riiight. Then why did you ruin my night out?”

“I keep telling you⁠—”

“Lies.” Gavin shook his head. “That’s what you keep telling me and yourself.”

Gavin made to walk around me and out of the room, and before I knew it I was on my feet and grabbing his arm.

“I don’t care who you date,” I said more for myself than him, because the longer he stood there hurling accusations at me, the more I’d started to question my motives.

I’d had Trevor’s car towed tonight to prove a point to Gavin—to show him that two could play at this ridiculous game he’d been playing. I wanted to irritate and frustrate him. Make him see that I could be obnoxious and annoying too when I wanted to be.

That was it. Nothing more, nothing less. And definitely not because I wanted to date him.

“Really?” Gavin searched my face as though looking for some hidden answer there. But he was looking in the wrong spot.

It was my stupid cock punching against my zipper that would give me away. My stupid cock that was reacting to his parted lips and rosy cheeks.

“So you didn’t set out to ruin my night because you were jealous?”

“Jealous?” I scoffed and brought the blunt to my lips, taking a drag, then I blew several rings of smoke out across his parted lips. “Why would I be jealous?”

Gavin reached for the blunt and took a deep inhale. “Because your dick is in lust with me.”

His words were a whisper, a smoky kind of cadence to match the music and the mood. When I jerked back, he grabbed my shirt in his fist.

“Admit it, Daire. That hard-on is for me.”

Fuck, that was sexy. He was so goddamn sexy⁠—

No. Hell no.This was Gavin. I could not be thinking what I was thinking.

“I can see it in your eyes, D. You want to… And I want you to…”

“No.”

Gavin leaned down and stubbed out the blunt, then straightened and stepped closer to me, putting his hand lightly on my waist. “No, you don’t want to? Or no, this”—he slid his hand down to the front of my jeans—“isn’t for me?”

My cock lurched at the possibility that Gavin was about to stroke it, but it could just calm the hell down. No way I was going to let this go that far. The fact he was cradling me through my jeans was a mind-fuck all on its own.

This was Gavin. Gavin, for Christ’s sake. There was no way he was standing here in my room saying shit like that. Maybe that Caviar Gold was stronger than I remembered and I’d passed out or was hallucinating.

“Daire?” Gavin squeezed around me. “I know I’ve been bad the last couple of days, teasing you and getting in your way…” He stood on his toes and put his lips by my ear. “But I just wanted you to look at me.”

I gritted my teeth even as my fingers balled into fists at my sides.

“You know, like, really look at me.”

I wasn’t sure how much more I could take of this. What was the normal amount of time someone could survive with blue balls? It wasn’t like I wanted to get hard for Gavin, or suddenly notice how plump his lower lip was compared to the top. It wasn’t as if I had invited him into my shower to watch me get off the other morning, and yet here I fucking was, caught up in this frustrating predicament where there was no good outcome.

I’d tried to push him away. Tried to be an ass. Tonight I’d even had his date’s car towed to the local precinct, and still Gavin was climbing all over me.

There was only so much a man could do, and honestly, that was more than anyone could expect from me. So would it be so bad if⁠—

“What if I just unbutton your jeans?” Gavin said, batting his lashes as he stared up at me like some innocent creature.

Yeah, an innocent creature whose hand was now— “Fuckin’ hell”—inside my jeans and wrapping around my aching dick.

“You’re naked under here…” Gavin’s raspy voice matched the arousal turning his eyes a darker shade of grey, and I knew I was in a whole world of trouble. “That’s so damn hot. Do you always”—he squeezed and gave me a rough pull—“go bare like this?”

Like I was going to answer that. Like I could. It was hard enough to stand still and upright while he was milking my cock. To actually string a sentence together would require more brain cells than I figured I had right then.

Gavin nipped his way up my jaw, nuzzling the stubble on my cheek as he swiped his thumb over the head of my dick.

“I want to taste you so bad, but I don’t want to stop touching you. Hmm, maybe I should just get down on my knees and⁠—”

“Stop.” That was it. I was done. I gave him a gentle shove back, and Gavin blinked up at me. “You should go.”

“Go?”

“Yes. Go. To your own room. You do have one of those.”

Gavin’s eyes narrowed, then fell to my open jeans and stiff dick that rejected every single one of my words. “Are you serious right now?”

“Don’t I look serious?”

“You look hard as a rock and stubborn as…as an ass.” Gavin took a step back, running a hand through his hair. “Why do you keep doing this to me? Why do you keep saying no when you clearly want to say yes? Tell me.”

I wasn’t going to get into all the reasons this was wrong. Especially when there was a whole goddamn list—at the top of which was his brother, my friend, if I could call the other guys that. But I wasn’t in my right mind, and there was little to no blood left in my head to help with my reasoning skills.

So the only thing I was going to tell Gavin right now was, “Go to your room.” In the hopes that⁠—

“You’re unbelievable.”

—he’d turn around and walk the fuck out of mine.