The Best Friend (Red's Tavern 1)

“What a relief,” he said. “No, that makes me feel about a million times better about this date night being so awkward. Who’s the lucky guy?”

Over the next few minutes I told Bruce all about Mitchell, and he was sympathetic as could be.

“Best friend, straight guy… that’s a recipe for a nasty crush, right there.”

“I know,” I said. “And he wanted me to spend time with him tonight, and I can’t stop thinking about him there alone at home, and the fact that I could be there too, if I just got over myself.”

Bruce shrugged. “Hey, call me crazy, but… it’s barely even ten o’clock.”

I eyed him. “What are you suggesting?”

“Clearly you and I are just going to be better as friends. We should call this date off and you can go spend time with your favorite person in the world.”

My heart leapt. “He really is my favorite. Is it that obvious?”

Bruce nodded. “Pretty damn obvious. And besides, I see a cute guy at the corner of the bar who’s been giving me eyes for the last ten minutes, and I kind of want to go buy him a drink.”

I glanced over. “He does look sweet. I haven’t seen him before. You should go for it.”

He held up his hand and I gave him a high-five.

“We should be friends,” Bruce said. “Maybe we’re never going to date, but I like you, Evan.”

“I like you, too.”

“Now go get your man,” he said, shooing me.

Standing on Mitch’s doorstep twenty minutes later, I was certain I’d made a mistake. My heart was pounding in my chest and I knew it was a stupid idea to have come here at all. I shifted on my feet, looking in the front window. Light from the TV was illuminating the living room. Mitch was probably doing some sort of workout.

I swallowed hard, finally reaching up to knock on the door. And then my brain, heart, and stomach all proceeded to do backflips.

A minute later it swung open and I saw something that looked a lot like Mitch, but couldn’t have possibly been him.

“Evan,” he said, furrowing his brow at me. “I thought you were on a date…”

Mitch was in pajamas and slippers and he was holding a nearly empty wine bottle in one hand. The TV wasn’t playing football or some workout video, but instead what appeared to be a documentary about wild pigs. There was an empty pizza box at the center of the coffee table.

My knees felt weak just from looking at him.

“What are you doing in here?” I asked, stepping in as he gently closed the door behind me.

“Um… working out and drinking protein shakes, of course,” he said.

I grinned. “Clearly.”

He fiddled with the label on the wine bottle. “No. I guess I was a little lonely tonight.”

“Lonely?”

He shrugged one shoulder. “I wanted to spend the night with you. It’s no big deal, though. I’m really glad you went on a date, and if you end up with this guy, that’s a good thing. I just want to be the best friend you can have—”

“Mitch,” I said, wrapping my arms around him and pressing my lips to his.

He let out a small gasp as I kissed him, but I was just as surprised as he was. I hadn’t been planning to cover his lips with my own, but it had been a great fucking decision. I parted my mouth for him and he let his tongue slide against mine. He tasted like red wine. The heat of his body seared against mine.

I wasn’t supposed to want to kiss my best friend, but when it was this good, how could I possibly resist?

“What about the firefighter-doctor-perfect-10-saint?” Mitch asked, pulling back for a moment and meeting my eyes.

“You’re more fun to be around than Bruce is,” I said, dragging my palm down his chest and toward his groin.

“Fuck,” he whispered as my hand grazed his cock.

“You’re already half hard,” I said.

“Going to be a lot more than half if you keep doing this.”

“So is this what you’ve been doing tonight?” I teased him as I stripped off my jacket and tossed it onto the back of the couch. I kicked off my boots.

“Of course not,” Mitch said. “I told you. I ran a half marathon and then ate two salads and watched the Godfather, obviously.”

“Got it,” I said. “I did all that stuff, too. And I definitely wasn’t thinking about you the whole time I was on my date.”

Something flashed across Mitch’s eyes. He licked his lips, letting out a long breath.

“Give me some of that,” I said, reaching out and taking the wine bottle from his hand. I took a long swig from the bottle, watching as Mitch’s eyes roamed up and down my body while I drank. The wine warmed me from the inside.