“It all started on prom night, so many years ago,” I joked. “Who knew that kiss would lead to all this?”
It was clear that I shouldn’t have said what I said.
The minute I brought up something real—the fact that we had kissed on prom night—Evan froze up. He looked away toward the snow, letting out a breath.
“No more tequila nights,” he said simply.
“Hey,” I said, leaning toward him again.
“Mitch, I’m done with the joke,” he said.
“This isn’t about the joke anymore. Are you okay, Evan?”
“I’m fine,” he said, his voice clipped.
“You sure don’t seem fine.”
“Yeah, because I actually did enjoy that kiss on prom night, and you didn’t,” he said, finally looking in my eyes again. “I actually think about it, from time to time. It isn’t a joke to me. I liked it, even though I shouldn’t have, and I always know you hated it, and—”
“You know I think about that night, too,” I said. “I married Jess because I knew it was the right thing for my son. But that doesn’t mean…”
I trailed off, unsure how I should finish the sentence. My mind was running wild, but the only thing I could fixate on was Evan’s lips, pink and so soft looking in the cold.
“Mitch…” he whispered. He looked guarded.
“I’m back, Ev,” I said, reaching out to gently place my hand on his forearm. “That’s all that matters.”
“This is going to hurt so fucking bad, isn’t it?” he said, his voice quiet.
My heart ached seeing him like this. Everything had shifted so quickly.
“No,” I said, shaking my head. “No. What would hurt?”
“All of it.” He sounded heartbroken.
“I could never hurt you, Evan Bailey,” I said, and I felt those words right down to my fucking gut. I felt them as strongly as I’d ever felt anything, in the same steadfast, unbroken way I used to believe I’d win every football game I’d ever played.
I couldn’t stand it anymore. Evan was looking at me like he was about to shatter into a million pieces, and no part of me was going to let that happen.
I could prove I didn’t regret that kiss so long ago.
I acted on instinct, doing the only thing I knew would convince him.
I leaned in, cupping my cold fingers against his cheek, and I kissed him. His lips were shockingly warm, and he made a small gasp as we touched.
My whole body filled with a slow warmth I hadn’t been expecting. My cock perked up, but I ignored it, focusing instead on the softness of Evan’s lips, the gentle tug on mine.
It didn’t feel weird to kiss him. In fact, it felt incredible to finally find a way to get him to stop worrying so damned much. It didn’t matter that these lips belonged to a man instead of a woman. They were the lips of my best friend. Of somebody who needed to know that I didn’t judge him.
I kept my lips on his for a while, kissing him chastely but letting myself linger there. Involuntarily my hands wrapped around to the back of his head, burying in his downy chestnut hair, pulling him a little bit closer to me.
I felt like I needed him this close. Kind of like we should be this close more often.
Then I pulled back, keeping my face near his.
My cock was hard as hell, trapped under my pants and aching. I wished it wasn’t, but I couldn’t control it. Kissing felt good, as long as you liked the other person. I didn’t feel the need to run off and prove I wasn’t gay. I could just enjoy the simplicity of kissing Evan.
Maybe that was a part of growing up.
“See?” I said, running my thumb along his lower lip. “I don’t regret what we did.”
Evan was like a deer in the headlights, but his lips were still slick and a little red from our kiss. In the past, I’d had those weird dreams where I’d let Evan go down on me, and memories of those dreams came back to me in that moment. Maybe if kissing Evan wasn’t bad, it wouldn’t be so strange after all to get my dick sucked by a friend sometime. It sure as hell sounded like a good idea right now.
Especially if it was him.
“Prom was a long time ago,” I said, gently stroking my fingers through Evan’s hair, which I’d apparently messed up while I was kissing him. “Let’s start fresh, okay?”
My heart was hammering in my chest, reeling from everything that had happened in the last twenty minutes.
“Start fresh,” Evan repeated, still watching me intently, his eyes dancing over my face.
“I know what you’re doing,” I said, biting my bottom lip.
“Do you? Because I definitely don’t know what I’m doing right now,” he murmured.
“Yeah. You’re looking at me like I’m a math problem you can solve, fuckface,” I said.