35. Travis

THIRTY-FIVE

"IF THIS IS a party, I'm turning around and walking back out," Caleb said, reaching up to mess with the blindfold I'd forced him to wear on the drive.

I grabbed his hand before he could take it off and brought it up to my lips. "It's not a party." I kissed the tips of his fingers and then sucked one into my mouth.

"Travis." He groaned, but didn't pull his hand away.

"Hmm?"

"How close are we?"

As I pulled my mouth off his finger, I took a quick glance out the window of the limo. Scotty was busy driving the rest of the guys around today, so I'd hired a private car for the two of us. "Actually, we're almost there. But that doesn't mean?—"

My words were cut off as he reached for the blindfold again, and I quickly straddled him and yanked it back down.

"You're being especially naughty today, birthday boy," I said by his ear as I held his wrists down by his sides. "Don't make me change up the itinerary."

He turned his head so our lips grazed. "What if I want you to?"

Those teasing words and the way my cock reacted to them had me seriously considering it. Today wasn't exactly my idea of a good time, but it was something Caleb would enjoy, and as long as I got to spend his birthday with him, I didn't give a damn what we did.

The limo stopped in front of our drop-off, and I let out an exaggerated sigh.

"Guess you'll have to wait to take advantage of my body."

Caleb's growl made me grin as I climbed off him and adjusted my pants. The fact that he hadn't run away screaming and calling this a mistake after last weekend had given me a little hope that he wouldn't change his mind. That maybe, even though we were keeping it platonic in front of everyone, he'd want more. With me.

It was wishful, stupid thinking, but I didn't care. I was determined to spend every free minute he gave me making up for lost time and showing him how good things could be if he chose me.

The door opened, and I climbed out first before reaching back for Caleb.

"Keep it on," I said as he took my arm and stepped out. He looked more than a little wary, and I chuckled and leaned in by his ear. "Still not a party. Scout's honor."

He snorted. "You? A boy scout?"

"I know, it sounds terrible to me too." I went to reach for his hand but stopped myself.

We didn't do that in public. Nothing that would tip anyone off as to what was happening behind closed doors.

But…I needed to help lead him inside. I wanted to put my hands all over him, but Caleb's potential reaction stopped me.

I grabbed his forearm instead and headed toward the entrance.

"Watch your step," I said, pulling open the wide door and leading him inside. The second we stepped into the vast room, the distinct smell of pine, citrus, and malt hit my nose—blech—and Caleb froze.

"Why does it smell like we just walked into a pub? You said this wasn't a party."

"And it isn't."

"Then why does it smell like a frat house?"

"Been to a lot of those, have you?"

"Enough. Seriously, Travis, I don't want a?—"

"Calm down," I said, and reached over for his blindfold, slowly tugging it down his face. "This isn't a party and we're not at a pub—or frat house, for that matter."

Caleb blinked, and as he began to focus on the wide-open space of one of New York's oldest breweries, his lips began to curve. The old wooden floorboards of the restored warehouse had definitely seen better days, but added to the overall vibe of the place. If a sticky floor, beer on tap, and fermenting barley and hops in those big-ass vats in the middle of the room could be called a vibe.

"You brought me to a brewery?"

He sounded about as shocked as I was that I'd actually done it, considering that likely meant I had to drink this shit for the next however many hours we were there.

"I didn't just bring you to a brewery, I rented the place out for however long you want to stay."

Caleb took in the empty space, and when he turned back to me, his lips twitched. "Which I'm guessing you hope is five minutes?"

I slipped my hands into my pockets to keep from reaching out and tasting that teasing grin, because damn he was tempting.

"I mean, I'm willing to give you ten. After all, it is your birthday."

"Yeah, it is, and that means I get whatever the hell I want." Caleb took a step closer and shocked the hell out of me by leaning in to whisper against my lips, "And you're looking really good right now."

My dick punched against the zipper of my pants as my breath caught in my throat. "All because I brought you to a brewery? Damn, wish I'd known that sooner."

"No, because you brought me somewhere I know you'd never set foot in for anyone other than me. That's super fucking hot."

I was just about to tell him so was he when someone cleared their throat from behind the front counter. We turned to see a woman in black pants and a shirt smiling at us.

"Welcome to Seven Barrel Brewery. Travis and Caleb, is that right?"

"That's right," I said, moving over to her. Caleb followed, looking around at the massive pipes that lined the beams of the old warehouse turned brewery/restaurant.

"I understand it's your birthday?"

"This guy right here." I gestured to Caleb, who flashed his easygoing smile.

"This place is incredible."

"Thanks. It's been in my family a long time now, and we take a lot of pride when it comes to our brews. Are you into craft beers?"

It took everything I had not to gag at the suggestion, but luckily, Caleb replied.

"Love them. I'm always game to try something new."

"Very good. That's what today is all about. I thought we'd start by giving you a tour and explaining how we make our beer, and then we can get to some tasting and food. Does that sound good?"

The food part sounded amazing, the rest apparently sounded great to Caleb, and that was all that really mattered. I wasn't here for me. This wasn't for me.

Gesture-wise, though, it was kind of for me, because I'd swung and hit the ball right out of the park. Judging by the way Caleb kept sneaking glances my way, I was going to benefit from this all night long.

"Okay, well, if you follow me, I'll take you out to where all the magic happens."

Caleb followed our host through a set of double doors, and when he looked over his shoulder to grin my way, I plastered a smile on my face so as not to dampen his experience.

For the next half-hour I learned more about beer than I ever needed or wanted. From the malting and mashing to the fact that beer didn't only smell bad when you drank it from the bottle, it smelled even worse from the byproducts the fermentation produces.

Seriously, wasn't a tour like this supposed to make me want to drink the beer? This just made me dig my heels in on my opinion that beer was one of the nastiest alcoholic beverages to ever be consumed.Piss water. That was my belief and I was sticking to it.

"Right, well, would you two like to try some of our house brews?"

Pass. Hard pass.

"We'd love to." Caleb's devilish grin told me he could see right through my strained smile. But when our jovial host headed toward the bar and we made our way back out to the restaurant area, he leaned in close and said, "This is killing you, isn't it?"

"The tour was…interesting."

"Mhmm." Caleb slid into one side of a booth as I took the other.

"It was. I learned that I was right—beer really is gross." I reached into the inside pocket of my blazer and pulled out a flask. When I took a long swig, Caleb scoffed.

"You brought a chaser?"

"Hey, I didn't pull it out during the tour."

"Which is shocking. But I'm impressed."

"Yeah?" I slid my leg in between his. "How impressed?"

He winked, and it was such a casual, sexy move that I still couldn't believe it was directed at me. "Guess you'll find out later."

God, why couldn't it already be later?

As our host came back with a tray of house samples, I tucked my flask back into my jacket and prepared myself for the next round.

Lucky for me, she also brought out some food for us to taste.

After going over the different brews and handing us each a brochure with a pen to make notes, she left us to it, and Caleb raised his small glass to mine.

"Thank you," he said when our eyes locked. "For being so thoughtful."

"And?"

"And for your sacrifice," he teased.

"I was thinking more like ‘thank you for blowing my mind and my?—'"

Caleb reached over the table and clamped his hand over my mouth.

I raised a brow, and his lips quirked.

"Thanks for that too."

As he dropped his hand and leaned back, I brushed my knee against the inside of his thigh. "Anytime. And I do mean anytime."

"I'll consider taking you up on that."

"Consider?" I rubbed my chest. "Ugh, that hurts."

He took a sip of his beer. "Mmm, that's good. You might even like that one."

"Doubtful." I flipped the brochure to check the name of this one, since those at least kept things amusing. "Down Boy?"

"No way. That's what it's called?" Caleb glanced down at the description and chuckled. "Think our host is trying to send a message?"

"I mean, that's not gonna be possible around you." I set the glass aside and picked up another. "What's this one?"

Caleb took one look and choked on his beer. He grabbed a napkin off the dispenser and wiped at his mouth as I looked at what caused that reaction.

"Holy shit. Bumfuckery? Now that's a sign if I ever saw one." I swallowed down a big gulp and managed not to cringe. How could I with a name like that?

"If I remember right, you gave me a lot of shit for drinking beers with ‘pretty labels.' Having a change of heart?"

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" I pushed the tasting glass his way. "Go on. Try some Bumfuckery, Caleb. Tell me how much you love it."

He shook his head as he brought the beer to his lips and swallowed. And swallowed some more. He drained the rest of the brew and, when he set the glass back down, ran his tongue over his lips in a way that was fucking indecent for our location.

"Can't get enough?" I said. "Need more Bumfuckery in your life, Caleb?"

His eyes crinkled at the sides when he smiled and rubbed his leg against mine under the table. "You know what? Maybe I do."

His words jolted my chest like an electric paddle, but I tried not to let it show on my face. I didn't need to get my hopes up any more than they already were.

We're just hanging out. Getting to know each other again without throwing barbs constantly.

If this was just sex… I could live with that. Exclusive sex. Sex where no one else touched him or knew what he sounded like when he moaned.

That would be enough. Right?

I trapped his wandering leg with both of mine and gave it a squeeze. "I'll keep that in mind."

"You should. It's my birthday. Anything I say goes." Caleb scooped up a loaded potato skin, dipped it in ranch, and took a bite.

"Anything?"

"That's right." Caleb looked at the remaining food in front of us but didn't say a word.

"You're not going to elaborate, are you?"

His eyes twinkled with a teasing light that stroked my dick as good as I knew his hand would.

I waited for him to continue. Then waited. And waited some more.

"Caleb…"

"You done?"

I looked down at the full plate in front of me and several remaining samples, then back to him. "Yes?"

"Good." He slid out of the booth and gestured to the door. "'Cause I'm suddenly in the mood for some more Bumfuckery…at home."