“I know you hate strawberries,” says Jonah, “but what about strawberries … dipped in thick, rich chocolate …?”
I shrug. “Then all you’re really tasting is chocolate, and strawberries still suck. I mean, what does it say about the strawberry if you have to bury it in chocolate so it tastes like anything at all?”
Jonah laughs. “You’re helpless. I’m gonna order a big plate of them and change your mind.”
“You’re one brave guy.”
He meets my eyes.
I meet his.
He bites his lip in that sexy way he does and gazes away, his cheeks reddening.
I don’t know if we’re going to make it to the room before I stop resisting the urge to tear off all of his clothes and do everything to him I couldn’t on the cliffs.
And it’s going to involve a lot more than just rubbing each other’s stiffening cocks through our clothes.
The elevator dings. We step off, then make our way to the end of the hall. “This is me,” he announces quietly as he pulls out his keycard and waves it in front of the door handle. It clicks, and he pushes his way in.
I follow—until he abruptly stops and I crash into his back. “What the—?”
Then I see what he sees: Rico, crouched on one of the beds on all fours, naked. A muscled block of a man, almost as naked, is lying lazily on his back, arms behind his head. His only clothing: whipped cream on his nipples and a tiny mound on his dick with a cherry on top—where Rico was just about to dive and satisfy a peculiarly odd sweet tooth.
Upon our abrupt arrival, the two of them stop their kinky straight-to-DVD porno special and turn their heads.
Yes, obviously the big guy is my fucking brother.
Chapter 13 - Jonah
I experience exactly four and a half seconds of full-on staring and paralysis before spinning around, taking Kent by the wrist, and charging right back out into the hallway.
The door slams shut behind me, cutting off Rico in the middle of him shouting, “There’s enough for both of us!”
I close my eyes and take a steeling breath.
The sound of Kent’s voice brings me back. “I did warn you about my brother, right?”
“Yeah. Maybe I should’ve warned you about Rico.”
“He’s gonna crush your friend’s heart, y’know.”
“Rico would have to have a heart to crush first, so no worries about that. Nothing to be mad about.” I scowl at the door. “Except for ruining my diabolical plan to change your mind about strawberries.”
“It was a failing mission to begin with,” teases Kent.
The moment we move away from the door, it opens, and we come to a stop. Rico steps halfway out wearing just a tiny black thong, folds his arms, and leans against the doorframe. “I don’t see why you’re running away. I said there’s enough of him for the both—”
“Not interested,” I cut him off.
Rico observes Kent for a moment. “Y’know, we’re only here for a couple more nights …”
I roll my eyes. “Rico, stop.”
“… and you’re robbing my friend of a great time here. If you have no intention of letting Jonah have a good time, can’t you just leave him alone so he and I can party the way we intended to before heading back to Houston on Monday?”
“Rico,” I start, “I am having a great time with Kent—”
“Y’know, I think you may be remembering Tallahassee differently than I do,” he says. “Yes, I got carried away and yes, I encouraged you to get carried away, too. Yes, I got us both into trouble, and it was entirely my fault we got arrested and spent a night in a holding cell.” Rico shrugs. “But when you think back on that wild, wild night we had, can you honestly tell me you didn’t feel the most alive you’ve ever felt before? Be honest with yourself, Jonah.”
There are so many things I could say right now, but quite suddenly, I find myself at a loss for words. I want to say that the version of myself in Florida that one summer is not me. I don’t want that crazy life. I was seduced by the high-velocity, pleasure-seeking thrill of my best friend, and maybe for one fleeting moment, it was fun.
But was it honestly what I wanted? Would I be in that hotel room with him and Adrian right now, had I never decided to hit up the Blue Coral Bakery for a funnel cake?
Is Rico right?
Before anyone can say another word, Adrian steps out of the room—and he didn’t even bother to put on clothes; his nipples and privates are still covered in whipped cream, though the cherry must have fallen off somewhere between the bed and the door. He is an impressive sight with muscles and charm for days, but in this particular context, he looks like the villain in a gay muscle porno. Do pornos have villains?