Messy Love (Stumbling into Love 3)

This time Danny barked out a loud laugh. “I think you’re reaching a little bit there, big guy.”

“I can’t believe you doubt my abilities. I thought we were friends.”

“We are. I totally don’t doubt you. I bet you could hit three if you wanted.”

We teased and joked around like that the rest of the walk home. When we got to our building, Danny let go of my hand, and I missed the contact immediately. I wanted to know what the rest of him felt like…what he tasted like. The second the elevator doors closed, Danny looked over at me, and there was something there, this look in his whiskey-colored eyes that pulled me in, lured my hands to his face, my body to press his against the elevator wall. It was a dumb thing to do and could backfire, but I couldn’t seem to stop myself.

Suddenly, we were both moving toward each other, our mouths meeting in a clash of lips and tongue. I slipped mine inside, getting my first taste of Danny. He groaned in response, arms around me, his hands on my ass, pulling me closer.

Fuck, that felt good. He felt good. Danny thrust against me, our erections pressing together and damn near making my legs give out. He nibbled my lip, and I sucked his tongue—kissing and rutting and—Ding!

We jerked apart as if the elevator opening electrocuted us. We were breathing heavily, standing there looking at each other, neither of us knowing what to do or say. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have.”

“Don’t be sorry,” Danny replied. The doors began to slide closed, and he shot toward them, putting his backpack in the way so they opened again. “Let’s go inside.”

I knew by the sound of his voice that he wasn’t feeling what happened the same way I was.

“All right.” I nodded.

We sure as shit didn’t hold hands again as we went to our apartment. I hung back as Danny unlocked the door and let us inside.

“That was hot. Really fucking hot, but… Jesus Christ, what am I saying?” Danny ran a hand through his hair.

“If you’re not into it, that’s fine. I didn’t mean to push or anything.”

“No, no.” He shook his head. “I was really fucking into it. I’m pretty sure you felt how into it my cock was. It’s… You’re trying to figure shit out. We’re roommates. You’re Will’s brother.”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

Danny sighed. “I don’t know. You’re my friend. I don’t want to fuck this up.”

“You’ve never hooked up with a friend before?” That didn’t sound like Danny. His silence was the only answer I needed. He had hooked up with a friend before. He just didn’t want to hook up with me. How in the fuck had I read that so wrong? The hand-holding and playing with his hair, but then, that was Danny, wasn’t it? He was an affectionate person. He kissed and hugged Elijah all the time.

“Shit.” I leaned against the counter, said again, “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t ever have to apologize for kissing me. I wanted to kiss you. I just don’t want to ruin things. There’s a lot at stake.”

I got it, because I would hate to lose his friendship. I needed it, and that wasn’t the first time I’d thought that, but there was also no one I trusted more than him. How that happened I didn’t know, but it was true. My trust in Danny made me want this with him even more. Clearly, he didn’t feel the same.

“No worries. It was just a thing. I don’t know what came over me,” I lied.

“Jonathan.”

The pity in his voice nearly did me in. “Don’t do that. I said it’s fine, and it’s fine. It was a kiss. It’s over, and now we go back to the way it was.” Please let us go back to the way it was. “I’m gonna hit the sack. We have to be up early for the game.”

Danny nodded. When I walked away, he didn’t try and stop me.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Danny

What. The. Fuck. Had. I. Done?

I paced my room. I wanted to kiss Jonathan. It had felt fucking great to kiss him. Why couldn’t I kiss him again?

But then I thought about sitting with him tonight, the way he talked to me and opened up to me, and…well, my track record with men. Garrett had been the only guy I’d been interested in for more than a hookup, and he hadn’t felt the same. What if that happened with Jonathan? And what if once I had him, I lost interest and hurt him? I couldn’t handle that thought. But I liked Jonathan, liked him more than I’d ever liked anyone, so I couldn’t see that happening. Then again, my dad had married my mom and he’d still bailed on her—just left when he was home with me one day and never came back. Maybe I’d never done the settling-down thing because I was like him.