Page 24 of Temptation On Ice

See, I confused the shit out of him, and I’m making things worse. Why am I like this? I have my shit together in pretty much every other aspect of my life, but talking to a straight guy friend is sending me spiraling, and I can't make simple text communication work. I should just tell him to have a nice night without his kid and call it quits. I’m already so far behind, I’ll never get ahead in this conversation. The phone dings in my hand, and I almost drop it as I fumble the old thing and race to see the next message.

Sebastian: Do you want me to come?

Uh, hell yeah, I do. I would make you come so hard your eyes would roll back in your head and you’d be screaming my name.

I shake my head at my wildly inappropriate thoughts. I’m an idiot. I know that’s not what he meant. I need to stop taking it there when it’ll never happen. Just be his friend and enjoy his company like you want to, and don't make it fucking weird, asshole. I manage to take a full breath and think rationally.

Tucker: Of course, I want you to visit, but I don't want to take up your time when you could be doing literally anything else. So no pressure either way.

Finally, a reply that made sense and put the ball in his court. I sigh and palm my face, glad he can’t see me through this text exchange. I probably look nuts with all this back and forth.

Sebastian: Fuck it. I need to decompress, and your place is peaceful. I’m coming over.

“Hell yeah!” I shoot my fist in the air, holding the phone high as I celebrate. Then I look around and realize I’m being an idiot again and getting ahead of myself. I shouldn't be this excited about something completely innocent. The dogs in their kennels stare at me, tails wagging, some barking to join in my enthusiasm despite not knowing what the hell I’m excited over. I catch Atlas looking at me quizzically, his sleek head cocked.

“Don’t you fucking judge me, dog. I’ve seen you sniff butts and do all sorts of atrocious things.”

He drops his head and spins in a circle before sitting and putting a paw up on the kennel door. I laugh at his antics. He’s coming along in his training and isn't a bite risk anymore, which is huge. When we get older dogs, even adolescents like Atlas, it can be hit or miss if they’ll make it through the training curriculum and become service dogs or fail out. Even some of the dogs we train from puppies fail out and have to be adopted out as a family pet. It’s a rigorous environment that requires a lot from them, and not all dogs are meant for service work, which is fine. I’m happy we could save Atlas from a shelter and see him flourish in this role. It goes to show that everyone deserves a second chance, and a little effort and belief goes a long way to giving them a second life with a new calling.

You and me both, I think.

My phone pings again, and I quickly check my messages.

Sebastian: I’ll be there in thirty unless you need more time. I’m stopping for Coronas. I’ll pick up dinner for us, too. What do you want me to get for us to eat?

He wants to feed me?

Oh, damn, that sends my heart skittering through my chest with excitement. I say goodnight to the dogs and leave the barn, intent on answering Sebastian as clearly as I can when my brain has fucking fireworks going off in it.

Tucker: Already have steaks pulled out to grill. I’m making corn on the cob and baked potatoes, too. If you're coming all this way, I’m feeding you the good stuff. Just bring the beer and keep me company.

That was neutral enough, right? Was the last part too much? Did it come off as desperate for attention, or like I don't mind hanging out with him? Fuck, I’m so messed up over this. Next time, I’ll think twice before I message him. This is some stressful shit. I down a beer when I get back inside so I can calm the fuck down, then go to the workshop and hit the weights in my makeshift home gym for about twenty minutes to work out the nerves. Might as well use the energy for something good, like getting my sweat on.

When Sebastian arrives later, I’ve calmed down a bit and don't feel quite as in my head about everything after a good workout. I took a quick shower to make sure I wasn't disgusting when he got here. Now, I’m trying hard to just play it cool and not think anything flirty about him because that won't help the situation.

“Hey, man, good to see you,” he says, extending his hand to grip mine and pulling me in for a typical bro hug. I take it because that’s an acceptable form of physical touch between two friends that won't weird him out or have him flinching away from me. No full, chest-to-chest extended hugs tonight.

“Thanks for coming over,” I reply, taking the six-pack of Corona and holding the door open for him to come in. “I didn’t mean to crash your Saturday evening or wreck your plans. You can always tell me no if I text and you're busy.”

Sebastian looks over at me as I pull two beers out of the carrier, then put the rest in the fridge. “You didn't wreck anything. I’d rather be here than alone in my house. You're better company than the walls.”

I snort out a surprised laugh. “Such high standards you have.”

He shakes his head, taking the beer I’ve opened for him, and following me out to the deck. “You know what I mean. Besides, I like it out here. It’s quiet, and so is my head when I’m here. I can just be, not think fifty steps ahead, or fight with my mom about what I’m doing that she doesn't like.” He rolls his eyes as he takes a long pull from the bottle, and I watch his throat work as he swallows with his head tipped back.

Goddamn, he’s sexy as sin.

I look away and take a drink of my beer before setting it on the picnic table and starting for the deck stairs. I might as well get the fake work I created out of the way first so he doesn't think I lured him over here just to hang out. I hear his steps behind me and let him catch up to my side before I speak.

“I’m sorry your mom’s giving you a hard time. I’ve got a little sister who wants to dictate my life, so I know what that’s like.”

“Family, am I right?” He chuckles and takes another swig of the beer he brought along with him.

“Let’s hope those two are never thrown into the same room together. It would be Armageddon, and our lives would be the casualty of that collaboration, I’m sure.” Cami doesn’t need any backup. She’s bad enough.

“We’d never hear the end of it,” he agrees.

He raises his beer to me and swallows the last of it. He sighs as we enter the barn, tossing the bottle into the trash can I point out before we move off to the whelping room where Ivy and her eight puppies are housed.