Emerett Has Never Been in Love (Love Austen 1)

Knight stepped back, a slight frown creasing his brow. He nodded. “Of course.”

So respectful and unquestioning. Knight didn’t understand.

Lake wasn’t even sure he understood.

It just burned, and burned, and burned.

“I wish you’d had a better time tonight,” Knight murmured.

He sounded sincere, but also disappointed, and Lake didn’t like that.

He was being shitty. His friend had enjoyed himself, maybe even found someone he could foster a relationship with. Lake wanted both those things for Knight. Sure, he was a dad. But dads were allowed intimacy, and more than that—they were allowed to fall in love again.

Josh, was . . . a decent man.

“He is a good looking, exceptionally talented guy. I’m wrong to get jealous.”

Knight looked at him, surprised. Pleased. “I wasn’t sure you’d recognize it.”

“It’s boiling something fierce. I’m sorry for turning away from your duet.”

“I’m amazed you did. You were the one who wanted me on stage so desperately.”

“There’s something about Josh that makes me feel . . . less, and he was practically humping you at one point, and I cracked.”

Knight smiled. Rather brightly. Although that might have been the moonlight.

He angled his head toward the bench. “Sit with me for a bit?”

They sat, and Lake gritted his teeth at how carefully Knight made sure to give him space. “Jealousy is not contagious, as far as I’m aware.”

Knight followed Lake’s pointed gaze to the space between them and shifted toward the middle. Lake met him there until their arms pressed lightly together. The spark between them took some of the edge off his mounting frustration.

“Did you hear about Philip?” Knight asked.

“No.”

“Cameron told me he hooked up with someone after he returned to Josh’s party last weekend.”

“What?”

Knight raised his brows. “I thought you’d be relieved.”

“But so quickly? After that whole show about my lemon?”

“Apparently he took it and made lemonade.”

Lake squished his face in distaste. “Never mention lemon again. The word’s been soured.”

Soft vibrations of laughter shuddered through his arm.

Knight’s profile was sharp, determined, and confident, like the man himself. “Thanks. That gossip slightly distracted me from your dalliance with Josh.”

Knight faced him. “What would more thoroughly distract you?” His eyes glittered softly in the milky light. “A discussion of Cameron-related business? Or delving into the curious behavior of Martin and Harry—”

Lake kissed him. A rapid jerk of his head and the crush of his eager lips against Knight’s surprised ones. Electricity surged through him at the touch, sluggishly followed by sanity.

He pulled back and swallowed the horrified ball in his throat. “God, I’m sorry. It . . . overcame me.”

Astonishment—arousal?—flickered in Knight’s eyes. Lake drew in a breath and shakily let it out again.

“Oh, Emerett.”

Another second of panic seized Lake. He tried to cobble together an excuse, but Knight ran his tongue over the bottom of his lip, and it fried Lake’s senses.

The inches between them disappeared; Knight’s hands threaded through Lake’s hair, cradling his head as their mouths met. Lake sucked in a breath, surprised, and instinctively wound his arms around Knight’s neck.

The firm kiss rolled over his lips from one corner to the other.

Knight tasted of dew. Like he belonged outdoors.

A strong hand braced his waist, steering him onto Knight’s lap, and Lake folded against Knight’s hard body like it was made for him. He groaned and Knight pressed harder against him, everywhere teasing friction. His shorts tightened painfully; the ache kept compounding.

Lips softened, and then slid away, leaving behind a damp line that tickled in the breeze.

“We should stop. We’re not thinking clearly.”

He leaned in and whispered against the warm shell of Knight’s ear. “I thought you weren’t always so level-headed?”

Knight slid his hand into Lake’s hair and palmed his head, the heel of his hand cushioning his nape. A sharp, wet nip came to his ear, eliciting a ticklish shiver that pooled in Lake’s crotch. “Always baiting me . . .”

Lake was lost to sensation. Delirious on it.

“Always losing my mind.” He needed more. “Touch me.”

Knight pulled up Lake’s T-shirt and tugged it off, throwing it over the arm of the bench. Lake’s fingers shook like an addict’s, yanking Knight’s shirt free. His fingers sank into Knight’s chest hair, splayed wide.

Maybe giving in just once, getting it out of his system, would help.

Lake breathed the warm night air deep into his lungs. The garden was quiet save the whisper of grass and shifting leaves. The sky stretched over them, deep navy, a few speckled stars, and the crescent glow of moonlight.

Slender white flowers framed the dark pillars of the gazebo, and the hose snaked over the grass where he’d dropped it. The bench squealed, drawing Lake’s attention back to Knight, whose eyes darkened with wonder and desire. A nervous fluttering rose from Lake’s gut to his chest.

Shivers exploded over his skin.

Whatever they were on the precipice of, Lake needed to jump.

He leaned in and dropped a soft kiss on Knight’s lips. A feathery gasp glided over his chin.