Just because a guy was chatting with Sam didn’t mean anything was going to happen. The guy hadn’t even invited him up to his room. I felt a little crazy.
The familiar sound of Sam’s phone rang out from the chair nearby. He leaned over and checked the screen, and my eyes landed on the dips and curves of his oblique muscles on the side of his stomach.
“Oh, damn,” he said, his eyes going wide.
“What?”
“It’s that guy from the app. He’s trying to video chat me.”
I clenched my jaw. “No way.”
“Yeah. I think he’s a little drunk, too,” Sam said. I watched as he answered the call, the phone taking a few moments to load the video. “If he wants the real me, he can get it.”
Another surge of jealousy ripped through me.
“Wow, so you really are in the hot tub,” the guy on the other end said right away. “Fuck, you’ve got a hot bod, kid. Can you flex for me?”
Why the hell was this guy calling Sam kid? Sure, he sounded like he was a bit older than Sam, but Sam was twenty-eight.
Sam snorted, but he obliged, flexing his free arm for the camera.
“That is very nice stuff,” the guy said. “You alone out there? Can you show me what you’ve got on underneath your swim trunks?”
What the hell? Was this how Sam usually got treated on these apps? Like he was a piece of meat?
I mean, sometimes it could be hot to treat people like pieces of meat, in the context of hooking up. But my jealousy was raging again. I felt guilty just thinking about it, but if anyone was going to objectify Sam, I wanted it to be me.
“Not going to happen, sorry,” Sam said, and I silently thanked the lord above. “I’m in the hot tub with another guy.” Sam smirked, glancing over toward me and then back at the camera.
“Oh really?” the guy said. “Why don’t you invite him to be on camera?”
“I would absolutely love for him to join, but he hates being on camera.”
I swallowed hard, adrenaline surging through me.
Screw it. I moved to the other side of the hot tub, sliding in next to Sam. The side of my body touched his under the water.
“Wow, I stand corrected,” Sam said, his eyebrows raised as he looked over at me.
“Evening,” I said to the guy on the phone screen, reaching my arm around Sam’s shoulders.
“And who is this fine-looking gentleman?” the guy asked.
“I’m Fox,” I said.
I briefly wondered if Sam was okay with the contact, but then he reached his free hand up to grab my hand at his shoulder, squeezing my fingers.
“Well, it’s good to meet you too, Fox,” the guy said. “Looks like you’ve got your hands full, there, Sam.”
“I suppose so,” he said. “Fox and I have the whole night ahead of us. He’s my boyfriend, actually.”
Christ. A thrill shot through me hearing Sam say it. Why did I fucking like that so much? It definitely meant that Sam wasn’t interested in him and was trying to use me as an excuse to get out of the phone call, but that wasn’t the only reason I liked it.
I pinched his knee under the water and he let out a satisfying little yelp.
“Everything all right?” the guy asked.
“Yes,” Sam said, darting his eyes toward me for a second. “Just felt something under the water.”
“Your profile didn’t say you had a boyfriend,” the guy said.
“I barely even knew him until this week, to be honest,” Sam said.
“Looks like you two know each other pretty well now, though.”
“We’re getting there,” Sam said.
“It’s been a quick but very passionate week,” I offered, resting my head against Sam’s shoulder.
We had a few more minutes of ridiculous, silly small talk with the guy, and I tried to play my impromptu role of boyfriend as best as I could.
I still felt like I was breaking some unwritten rule when I touched Sam. It was indulgent. I was a little bolder now thanks to the alcohol in my system, but I’d wanted to get closer to him for days.
Sam finally hung up after the novelty of the video call had worn off. I stayed at his side, enjoying the excuse to be on his side of the hot tub, very happy that the video call had ended.
I wanted Sam to myself tonight. And finally, nobody else was on our side of the rooftop.
“I am so sorry,” Sam said, giving me big, apologetic eyes.
“It’s no big deal, Sam,” I said. “It was kind of fun, actually.”
“Really? Thank God,” he told me. “I didn’t know if you’d be comfortable with the whole ‘boyfriend’ thing. But that guy was not my type at all.” He reached up to toss the phone back onto his towel.
“I’m surprised.”
He scrunched up his nose, shaking his head. “No way. Wouldn’t go for that guy in a million years.”