The Closer I Get is available Now!!
Croix Matthews has been hot for his best friend Brayden O’Conner since the moment he rescued the homeless boy from the street as a teen. Since everyone in his world, including Brayden, thinks he’s straight he’s had no luck with his timid attempts at letting his friend know he’d like a shot at being more, but with International super model Brayden finally boyfriend free the time to go full throttle is now.
Brayden hears his friend’s plea for assistance and assumes his straight bestie needs help with the ladies. Although he all but chokes on the task he’d do anything for the man who saved his life. If that means not investigating the meaning behind the shy come hither looks Croix is always throwing at him, so be it.
The closer they get to each other the more they can see how large the obstacles are. Will they stand strong together or will they let themselves be torn further apart?
With an evil little chuckle, he glanced at Croix then back at a the row of bottles ranging from scotch, tequila, to vodka. All aged twelve years and older.
“Oh, I know what we can do.” Brayden tapped along the bottles until he found the tequila of his dreams. This would work just fine. Snagging the liquid gold he held the bottle out to Croix.
Croix’s eyes went wide, and he shook his head, backing away. “No. Last time we drank I woke up with purple hair and a tattoo of ‘Get it while it’s hot’ on my ass.”
Brayden burst into laughter. “Do you still have that?” He very vividly recalled the scrolled lettering across Croix’s delectable, right cheek. Hell, he had a picture of it on his phone. Not that he’d tell Croix. Ever.
Croix scowled. “I’m not drinking with you.”
“Come on, show me the tattoo.” Brayden cradled the bottle and peeked around Croix like he could see through his clothes.
“Stop it, you perv,” Croix demanded. “I blame you for that thing ever being on my body. I still think you were sober enough to stop it. The only way you get answers is if I become a stripper and perform a private show.”
What I wouldn’t give for a private show, Brayden thought while keeping the words under lock and key. Instead he said, “I was sloshed, truly.”
“I’m still not drinking with you.”
“Come on,” Brayden insisted. “There isn’t a tattoo place for miles, and no hair dye in the house, right? The worst I could do is shave off all your body hair and maybe take embarrassing photos to add to my collection.” Brayden had tons. There was rarely a time when he didn’t sneak a pic, and a drunk Croix was a sight to behold.
“You’re not selling your case here.” Croix put his hands on his hips, one brow raised.
“Fine, I’ll do double shots while you do singles,” Brayden offered, knowing even with those odds Croix would still get hammered way before him. Croix could get drunk on the vapors of hard alcohol.
Croix exhaled loudly, running his hand through the silky locks of hair Brayden longed to touch before muttering, “Fine, but if I go all Blare Witch in the forest with my camera phone, you’re in deep shit.” Croix snatched the bottle. “Get the glasses, and I’ll get some soda. There’s no way I can drink tequila without a backer.”
Brayden laughed when Croix gave the bottle a dirty look.
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