Anna Martin's First Love Box Set: Signs - Bright Young Things - Five Times My Best Friend Kissed Me

by Anna Martin

  In hindsight, Evan thought he should have expected the kiss.

  Scott’s hand was still on his face, and Evan felt something twist and shiver down his spine as Scott’s full bottom lip pulled his own into Scott’s mouth. It was different from before, insistent and knowing and fire-spitting fast—suddenly something existing where only moments before there was nothing.

  Evan’s hands were gripping Scott’s shoulders before he knew what he was doing, not pushing Scott away, not pulling him in deeper either. Maybe the lack of pushing-away was really the same as pulling him in.

  Evan whimpered.

  Scott’s other hand was suddenly in his hair, and Evan tilted his head, giving permission for Scott to take the kiss deeper and lick into his mouth. It was just the same as last time, strangely familiar to be in this position with this man again, despite all the years they’d been apart.

  “Evan,” Scott murmured as he kissed over Evan’s jaw, then nuzzled into his neck. “Fuck, Evan.”

  “What….” Evan gasped and shook his head. “What are you trying to do to me?”

  “I want to know. I want to know what we could be, if we gave it a chance.”

  “No more fucking riddles. You want to fuck me?”

  “Yeah,” Scott said. His eyes were dilated, lips red, but he didn’t look drunk. “If that’s what you want too, then yeah.”

  Evan nodded. How could he do anything but? This was what he’d been waiting for since he was a fucking teenager. It didn’t matter that all his instincts were saying this was a bad idea, that he was only going to get hurt again. All he could see was Scott Sparrow, captain of his high school football team, the kid who could melt Evan’s stomach with that crooked smile.

  “You should know I live about an hour away from here. It gives you plenty of time to figure out that this is probably a bad idea.”

  “Shit. I’m staying with my parents.”

  “I know. And I’m not fucking you in your mom’s house, Scott. Contrary to popular belief, I do have some boundaries.”

  Scott laughed softly and pressed his forehead to Evan’s. “I’m not going to change my mind.”

  “Sure?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Okay. Why don’t you come over for dinner tomorrow night?”

  Scott skimmed his fingers up into Evan’s hair and frowned. “Not now?”

  “You have a chance to think this over. Make sure it’s not going to be a mistake.”

  “It won’t be,” Scott said, running his fingers through Evan’s hair and tugging lightly. “Plus, this way Lacey won’t know where I am.” He grinned wickedly.

  “Oh, she will,” Evan said with a laugh. “She’s known I had a crush on you for a long time now.”

  “Are you serious?” Scott said, pulling away sharply.

  “Yeah. Is that a problem?”

  “I guess not.”

  Evan looked at him for a long moment, taking in all the things that had changed as Scott had mellowed and grown. He looked good. Better than Evan had allowed himself to remember. Scott’s smile was perfect, warm and sweet, and Evan wanted to kiss him so fucking bad.

  “I’m going to go,” he said, shocking himself.

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. If I stay… I might break my resolution of not fucking you in your parents’ house.”

  Scott’s laugh was a bright bark. “Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow. Around seven?”

  “Make it six. I’ll show you around before dinner then.”

  Scott nodded, and his tongue very slowly swept over his bottom lip. Evan watched its movement and stayed very, very still. He waited with more patience than he knew he had. Then finally Scott leaned in and kissed him again. Closed mouths, soft lips, a sweet promise.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow,” Scott whispered.

  The drive home was characterized by a straining erection that would not, despite all of Evan’s willing, go away. It was weird for Evan to walk back into his house feeling like his whole world had changed, so why hadn’t his home? The tingling sting on his lips had long since faded, but he was still hoping for bruises on his skin from where Scott had been gripping him so tight. Maybe.

  In his bedroom, he furtively dragged the curtains closed and stripped out of clothes that had already been pulled loose, then flopped, facedown on the bed, hugging a pillow to his chest. It took far too long for him to fall asleep.

  Evan woke the next morning later than he was used to. He hadn’t plugged in his phone to charge while he slept, so it was dead when he reached for it to check the time.

  “Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, groping for the cord to plug it in.

  He had to get up to use the bathroom anyway. Stumbling through the too-bright hallways, Evan stubbed his toe on shoes he’d kicked off and not put away the night before, and after he’d peed, decided to just jump straight into the shower.

  The night before replayed in his head as Evan ran his hands over his body, taking small pleasures in the soapy slick of skin on skin, even if it was his own. He’d been like this for too long now, used to taking pleasure from his own hand and nothing else. The thought of finally sharing himself with someone, with Scott, was a little intoxicating.

  Evan masturbated to a mildly satisfying climax, pinching his nipple with one hand while he stroked hard and fast with the other. His eyes shut against the hot water, visions of Scott danced just out of reach.

  After the evidence of his exploits was washed away, Evan shut off the shower and dried quickly, then padded through to the bedroom, feeling far more awake. His phone, now charged enough to tell him the time, announced it was later than he thought. Much later.

  “Shit.”

  It was almost eleven.

  It wasn’t like Evan had lots planned for today, but now he had to go to the store and find something to make for dinner. He could be sure there was nothing suitable in the kitchen already.

  Judging by the brightness against his curtains and nothing else, Evan decided it was probably hot outside, and dressed in loose cargo shorts and a white T-shirt. He rooted through his closet to find flip-flops, then grabbed his sunglasses from the dresser and his car keys from where they were still hidden in the pocket of his pants from last night.

  It took longer to drive to Whole Foods than Walmart, but with the windows down and some Mariah Carey on the radio, Evan decided it was worth it. His stomach was churning, and he pressed his hand against it, not sure if he was hungry or nervous, or if this was some kind of physical reaction to what had happened last night. Nervous, he decided as it gave another plaintive growl. But it wouldn’t hurt to grab a pastry and some coffee.

  There was a drive-through Starbucks not far from the store, so he swung by and grabbed his usual order. It was enough, though the injection of caffeine made it feel like his heart was trembling.

  Maybe it was.

  He wandered the aisles of the supermarket, sipping absently at the drink and not really tasting it. He didn’t feel the need to cook something to impress Scott. It wasn’t a date, after all.

  Evan stopped dead right in front of a display of peppers.

  Was it a date?

  Was he about to have a date with Scott?

  Shit.

  That changed everything.

  It wasn’t like he could call and ask Scott what he was expecting…. Well, dinner and sex, they’d pretty much agreed on that already. But did dinner and sex equate a date?

  Shit.

  It definitely did.

  He had condoms in his nightstand; he’d checked that before he left the house. Checking the supply of condoms wasn’t exactly unusual for him, though. Evan was no angel, and he preferred fucking in the comfort of his own home rather than in a club or alley or, heaven forbid, someone else’s dirty house.

  Evan was startled out of his thoughts by someone loudly clearing their throat, and he stumbled away from the produce section with his neck hot with embarrassment.

  He had a good idea what food was in his cupboar
ds, so it didn’t take long to do a sweep of the supermarket and collect the things he needed to make one of the few fancy meals he was confident preparing.

  There was a light knock at the door, and Evan almost startled. He took a deep breath, turned the heat down on the stove, and went to the door.

  Scott looked incredible. He was wearing dark blue jeans and a lighter blue denim shirt, most of the buttons undone, exposing his firm chest. With his pale skin and dark hair he looked dreamy, and when he gave Evan one of those familiar lopsided smiles, Evan felt his stomach flip over.

  “Hey.”

  “Hey yourself.”

  “Here, come in.”

  Scott grinned and brought his hand out from behind his back with a flourish, presenting Evan with a bunch of yellow tulips. Evan laughed, feeling his cheeks heat.

  “Thank you,” he murmured, then tipped his head to the side in invitation. “Let me put these in some water. Then we can go out. I thought I could show you the area.”

  “That would be good.”

  Evan grabbed a vase from under the sink and filled it with cold water, then dumped the flowers in it without unwrapping them. He could do that later. The chicken and potatoes would continue to cook while they were out; all he needed to do was let them roast. After a moment’s hesitation, he reached for the drawer next to his microwave.

  “You still smoke?” he asked.

  “Sure,” Scott said with a shrug.

  Evan nodded and grabbed a small bag of weed, plus his tobacco pouch and skins. When he turned, Scott was far closer than he’d anticipated, and Evan almost stumbled.

  Almost.

  “Hey,” Scott said, his voice a soft drawl.

  “Hey.”

  “Is it okay if I kiss you?”

  Evan nodded, tucking the weed into the back pocket of his jeans. “Sure.”

  Scott was slow and thorough about it, wrapping his hand around the back of Evan’s neck and pressing their lips together, firm and sweet. Evan kissed him back, not wanting to be the passive partner. Not this time.

  After a few seconds, he broke away and rubbed the pad of his thumb over Scott’s full bottom lip.

  “Come on,” he said softly.

  Scott had his mom’s car—Evan recognized it but didn’t say anything. He guessed at least one of the Sparrows knew where Scott was tonight, and he wasn’t ready yet to decide how he felt about that.

  They hopped into his car, and Evan immediately headed for the coast. There wasn’t a beach here, not the same as back home, but they could drive along the long road that wound its way through dense forest and wide nothingness with the sea breeze filtering in through the open window.

  It felt like they could talk forever. It wasn’t just all the things they’d missed in each other’s lives over the past few years. It was more than that. Probably the core of what made them friends in the first place.

  Evan teased Scott about being a Bears fan now, about the weather up north, about his clean-cut, gym bunny physique.

  Scott retaliated with small-town jibes, about how Evan had crossed state borders too, about him being a traitor now.

  There was no pressure, no obligation for them to act a certain way, to feel anything other than the peaceful sweetness of spending time with the right person.

  It was early enough in the year for the light to start fading while they were still out. Evan pulled up to a spot he came to fairly regularly. It was a little higher up, and they could get out and walk almost to the edge of the cliff face.

  “This is nice,” Scott said as they settled down, looking out at the wide expanse of the Atlantic.

  “Hmm.”

  Evan quickly rolled a joint and lit it, then inhaled deeply before passing it off. The sweet smoke hit his lungs, and he savored the taste of it before letting it go slowly.

  “How long have you lived here now?” Scott asked.

  “I bought the house about eight months ago.”

  “Were you living with your mom before that?”

  “No,” Evan said, feeling himself start to relax as the smoke took hold. “I had a roommate for a while, out in Suffolk. It wasn’t ideal, but the room was cheap, and he didn’t mind about me leaving my work all over the place. How about you?”

  Scott huffed a laugh. “Pretty much the same, actually. Though I still rent. I have my own place.”

  “Nice.”

  Scott nodded. “It is.”

  They fell into another companionable silence for a few minutes, watching the waves and passing the joint back and forth. When it was almost burned out, Scott took one final pull on it and stubbed it out on a rock, then straddled Evan’s thighs.

  They’d done this before, and Evan grinned, holding on to Scott’s waist as he tilted his head and exhaled into Evan’s mouth as Evan breathed in.

  The smoke felt softer like this somehow, and sweeter still. Evan tipped his head to blow it away, then slid his hands down to cup Scott’s ass and leaned in for a kiss.

  There was so much promise in tonight. It felt like the culmination of years of watching and waiting and wanting, and yet Evan still wanted to take his time. Not to rush. So when Scott licked his way into Evan’s mouth, Evan pulled away and rubbed their noses together.

  “Come on. Or the food will burn.”

  They’d taken the scenic route out here, but it only took five minutes and a shortcut to get back to the house. The chicken looked pretty good when Evan poked at it. He wriggled his ass after Scott let out a low wolf whistle and straightened up, laughing.

  “Can you deal with wine?” he asked.

  “Sure. Any preference?”

  “There’s a bottle of white in the fridge.”

  Evan had made this dish before—chicken breasts still on the bone with skin on, cooked with lemon and garlic. Roast potatoes. Then the dish was served with slices of pear and blue cheese and piles of buttery green beans. It was easy to prepare but looked impressive, which was what mattered on a date. Or a nondate. Or whatever this was.

  “Wine,” Scott said, passing Evan a glass.

  “Thanks. I don’t have a dining table—I turned the dining room into my studio. So we’ll just eat in here.”

  Scott nodded and went to the drawers, took out matching silverware, and set them on the breakfast bar. It didn’t take long for Evan to plate up the food, not bothering too much about presentation, considering who was going to be eating it.

  “This looks amazing,” Scott said when Evan slid a plate in front of him. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” Evan hopped up onto the barstool and raised his wineglass to clink against Scott’s. “I don’t get the opportunity to cook for people very often. It’s nice.”

  “When you cook like this, you can do it for me anytime,” Scott said. He took a sip of the wine, then dug into the potatoes.

  Evan grinned at his enthusiasm, then started on his own meal.

  It was almost like nothing had changed. Almost.

  Time meant little now that they were back together again, and even the promise of something sexual later didn’t affect the easy mood. Evan had known this man almost his whole life.

  They finished the first bottle of wine during dinner and opened a second to drink while sitting out on the porch, smoking another joint. Evan sat here often enough smoking, and none of his neighbors had ever noticed, so he guessed they wouldn’t now.

  “I can’t believe Lacey is married,” Scott said, leaning against the porch frame and tipping his head back. The sunset reflected off his handsome features, and Evan felt a tug in his belly he’d grown used to ignoring. It was still there, that bone-deep affection. Lust. Love.

  “I can.”

  “It’s weird that you two are, what? BFFs?”

  Evan laughed. “You abandoned the both of us. We bonded.”

  “Aw, don’t put it like that. Seriously, how did you get to be friends?”

  “We always were, Scott. I came back after college, and it was weird. Everyone I knew had moved awa
y. And the ones who were left weren’t exactly the sort of people I wanted to hang out with. I was in a bar on the Boardwalk with a few people who were annoying the living hell out of me, and Lacey was in there too. Not drinking, just hanging out with her girlfriends. We got to talking and exchanged numbers…. I suppose the rest is history.”

  “She didn’t tell me for a really long time.”

  “What, that we’re friends?”

  “Yeah. I think she was expecting me to be mad at her.”

  “Were you?”

  Scott scoffed. “No. I was jealous.”

  “Really?” Evan asked. He reached for his lighter and relit the blunt.

  “Yeah. It was shit, not talking to you. Then I find out my baby sister is your new best friend? It sucked.”

  “You could have just called me.”

  “Would you have answered?”

  Evan huffed a laugh. “I guess not.”

  “There you go.”

  Evan stretched out his legs, appreciating the last of the warmth of the day, and passed the joint over.

  “Finish it, if you like.”

  Scott inhaled deeply, just once, then scuffed the end out on the edge of the porch. When he looked up again, Evan caught his eyes and his heart stuttered.

  In this light, Scott’s Irish pale skin seemed to glow amber, his eyes shockingly blue. The dark stubble on his jaw suited him, made him look rugged and exceptionally handsome. For too long Evan had been forced to hide this, to bury it in a box and hide the box somewhere his mind couldn’t dwell on it.

  “Do you want to come back inside?” Evan blurted.

  Scott smiled, lazy and knowing. “Sure.” He rolled to his feet and extended a hand. For a split second, Evan just stared at it. Then when Scott chuckled, Evan grabbed it and allowed Scott to haul him to his feet.

  Once they were inside, Evan locked the front door, not caring if it was presumptuous. Scott seemed to know, or at least sense Evan’s hesitation, and put his hand on Evan’s lower back.

  “You okay?”

  There really wasn’t a good answer to that. Evan grabbed Scott’s hand, leaning in to press their mouths together.

  “You’re nervous,” Scott said, his voice softly teasing.