Yours All Along (6 page)

He knew himself too well. He hooked up and moved on. He didn’t do relationships. Doing anything with Hunter would screw up their friendship and worse, would risk messing up Hunter’s situation with his family.

Devon had been on the receiving end of being turned out from his family. He didn’t wish that on anyone. Hunter’s dad was a douchebag. That guy Hunter could probably do without. But Hunt also had a mom and a sister, extended family. He had all of that waiting for him back in Houston—financial security, a future where he wouldn’t have to worry about making ends meet, a home. It hadn’t been that long since Devon had been staring down the possibility of having to drop out of college and get two jobs just to get by. If his younger sister hadn’t hit it big with her music career, he wouldn’t be here right now. Oakley had saved them both when she’d landed her gig in a girl singing group. But Devon hadn’t forgotten what it’d felt like to be completely and utterly on his own—alone with no one standing in the wings to catch you if you tripped up.

He wouldn’t risk putting Hunter in that situation just because he had a hard-on for the guy. He needed to keep his hands to himself, sleep in his own bed no matter how damn cold, and stop fantasizing about his best friend. They were beyond lines being drawn in the sand. Moats needed to be dug and armed guards installed.

Maybe it was time to move out of the frat house altogether. He could afford a student apartment now and save himself the torture and Hunter the risk of this going any further.

He could start looking for a place today. He and Hunter were supposed to go see Oakley in concert this weekend, a road trip that had been planned for a while. He’d tell him then, come up with a way to make it sound like it had nothing to do with what happened last night. Maybe he could even use Oakley as an excuse—she gifted him with funds for his own apartment.

God, that sounded lame.

He’d figure something out.

He had to. Or this was going to end badly.

And no matter what, he knew one thing for sure: He didn’t want it to end. He’d never had a friend like Hunter. He could find people to warm his bed. That part was easy. But there was no way he’d find someone who got him like Hunter did. That shit was different. Special. And worth protecting.

College

This was so not his scene. Hunter tried to move to the beat as the crowd pulsed around him near the front of the stage, but this music wasn’t his thing and the high school chick in front of him kept casually grinding herself back against him, making everything awkward. He wasn’t drunk enough for this shit. Grinding girl sent him a look over her shoulder that obviously was some sort of invitation, but he couldn’t be less interested. She had on a pound of makeup and reeked of some kind of sweet perfume and alcohol. No thanks.

Dev was having no trouble keeping up with the beat, though, and seemed to be having a way better time. The shots he’d taken before they came in had probably helped. The kid had been in a weird mood the whole ride here. But now he was bouncing next to Hunter, face lit up with pride, as he watched his baby sister perform on stage with her girl group, Pop Luck. Hunter took a long sip off his cup to finish his beer, entertained more by the view of his tipsy, dancing friend than what was on stage or the girl in front of him.

“Isn’t she amazing?” Devon yelled.

Hunter smiled and tossed his empty cup to the ground, Dev’s exuberance contagious. “Yep. She’s totally
hot
.”

Devon shoved him in the shoulder. “Watch it, big man. That’s my baby sister. I’ll kick your ass.”

Hunter caught Devon’s wrist before he moved away, the heat of Dev’s skin against his palm sending a jolt through him, and without thinking, he pulled him closer. “I’d like to see you try, Crowe.”

Devon’s gaze flicked to Hunter’s grip on his wrist then to the scant space between them, confusion flaring there. “What are you doing?”

Hunter knew he should let go, but somehow he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Holding on to Dev in the mass of chaos felt like finding safe harbor in the eye of a storm. He put his mouth close to Devon’s ear. “I’m using you as a shield. I need you to protect my virtue from the jailbait over there. Maybe she’ll think we’re together.”

Devon glanced over at the girl, who peered back again, focus zeroing in on Hunter. Dev gave him a wicked look, his smirk loose from his buzz. “We’ve got this. Just follow my lead.” Devon hooked his finger in Hunter’s belt loop and dragged him over to the spot he’d been dancing in. The music pumped through the arena, and the colored lights sparked over Devon in a haphazard, colorful pattern, revealing only pieces, snapshots. Hunter couldn’t look away. Dev rocked to the beat. “Come on, big man. Dance. Let’s shatter her little schoolgirl fantasy about landing a college guy for the night. Let her think I’m taking you home.”

Hunter laughed, nervous all of a sudden. “I suck at dancing.”

“Nobody sucks at dancing at a concert. Just close your eyes and move.”

Hunter wasn’t sure that was the truth, but he did have a little buzz going, and Dev’s grip on his waist was keeping him in time with the music. He closed his eyes and hooked an arm around Devon’s neck, focusing on letting go and moving with the beat.

“There you go,” Dev declared. “Just move.”

Hunter rarely danced and definitely had never tried with a guy, but before long, he could feel himself getting swept up in it—the beer, the music, the skill of his dance partner. All if it was pulsing through him with an electric edge, waking up everything and dragging him into the oblivion. He opened his eyes, finding Dev with flushed cheeks and laughing eyes. Devon spun around and then grabbed Hunter again without missing a beat. God, the kid was something. Devon was in his element tonight. Not that he ever held back. He was open about who he was, but seeing him in this environment proved that Devon still held some things in check around the frat house. Here Devon was free . . . and fucking magnetic.

The draw was something Hunter was learning to get used to. From the beginning, Devon had had this undeniable pull on him, but it’d been purely a friendship vibe. They connected and just got each other’s humor. Their differences had been a nonissue.

But after the night they’d shared his bed, the pull had gotten decidedly less clear cut. Hunter hadn’t lied when Devon had asked if he looked at guys in a sexual way. He didn’t. He was just starting to look at
Devon
that way. And it was completely fucking with his head.

The whole reason he’d been able to be so relaxed around Devon from the start was because Hunter had never considered that he was anything but straight. There’d been no question. Hell, if anything, he’d wanted to show some of the idiots in the frat that being gay wasn’t fucking contagious. And, of course, it wasn’t. But spending the last year with Devon had shaken the foundation of what Hunter thought he knew about himself. And he had no idea what to do about it.

Devon turned and put his back to Hunter, keeping close but moving with the music and leaving enough space between them that it didn’t cross into bump-and-grind territory. That’s when stalker girl decided she had an opening. She shimmied over and tried to work her way in between him and Devon. Her body brushed against Hunter’s arm in seductive invitation. But before she could slide into Devon’s spot, Hunter took a wide step, grabbed Devon’s hand, and pulled Dev against him hard. Their chests collided, and Devon’s eyes widened.

Hunter hadn’t planned for that to happen, but now that they were pressed together, he just decided to go for it. He gripped a hand in Devon’s hair and touched his forehead to his as they moved to the pumping music as one, hips grinding, bodies swaying.

“Hunt,” Dev said, warning in his voice.

“Just go with it.” He closed his eyes and let his body and the buzz take over.

Devon was a solid wall of heat against him, his movements still on beat, but tension clear in his muscles. Hunter knew this was crossing a line. Wherever the girl was, she’d surely gotten the message. But he was afraid if he let Devon go, a thousand things would come crashing down around him. He liked this moment, clung to it. The lights. The music. The scent of exertion and Devon’s soap. He didn’t want the spell wrapping around them to end.

He let his other hand slide to Devon’s hip and he held him close as they moved, zipper rubbing zipper. Hunter’s body began to respond, and he knew he should back off, but when he shifted, the hard length of Devon’s erection bumped his thigh. A hot tremor moved through Hunter.

A hand balled in the side of his shirt. “
Hunter.
”

Hunter lifted his head, saw the panic in Devon’s eyes. He needed to back away. Leave this be. Leave Devon alone. He leaned forward and kissed him.

Devon froze, his whole body going rigid as Hunter’s mouth touched his. Hunter started to pull away, not wanting to force anything. But then Devon groaned, parting his lips and letting Hunter in. The invitation was like the gates of heaven opening up. Keys to the kingdom thrown at his feet.

His tongue slipped inside Devon’s mouth without hesitation now—hungry, seeking. He tasted the salt of the popcorn they’d shared, the liquor, the man. The need.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
He shouldn’t be doing this. But stopping wasn’t an option. He just wanted to drink and drink and drink from the well of fire their connection was creating.

Devon’s fingers curled into the sides of Hunter’s T-shirt, like he was simultaneously about to draw him close and push him away. But they didn’t move forward or back. They just stood there in the middle of the frenzied crowd, clinging to each other as one song ended and the next started, kissing like they were the only damn people in the room. Hunter’s cock pressed painfully against his fly, Devon’s thigh rubbing ever so slightly against it. Slow, slow, slow.

Hunter broke away, gasping for air and barely staving off some disastrous spontaneous orgasm. “Shit.”

Devon backed up a step, too, eyes a little wild, chest heaving. He raked a hand through his hair and looked toward the exits like he was going to bolt. But instead, he jerked a thumb at the doors. “Come on.”

Hunter’s head was spinning, but he followed Devon through the crowd, the crush of people making it impossible to catch his breath. They reached the edge of the arena after a few hard-fought minutes and escaped out to the breezeway.

People milled around them, and the harsh fluorescents blinded Hunter as they strode past the food pagodas and merch tables. Cash registers chimed, girls chattered in lines for the bathrooms, hot dogs rolled on the endless warmers. Hunter blinked, trying to get his bearings. How could the mundane world still be going on around them when everything had felt like it’d shifted inside that arena? He tried to find his voice. “Where are we going?”

“Not here,” Dev said, his steps almost stomps as he moved forward.

Hunter didn’t know what else to do but follow. And soon, Dev grabbed the arm of Hunter’s shirt and dragged him toward an alcove where the crowd noise lowered to a cacophonous hum.

Devon turned around and held his arms out. “What the
ever-loving fuck
was that?”

Now that they were in the unforgiving lights and not in the dark crowd, panic was inching in on Hunter, heat burning his cheeks. He’d kissed Devon. Practically mauled him. He’d gotten hard.
God
. “I—I don’t know. Improvising?”

Devon looked at him like he’d announced he was an alien. “Are you freaking kidding me, Hunt? How drunk are you?”

“What? I don’t know. How drunk are
you
?”

“Jesus Christ.” Devon dragged his hand over his face. “You can’t just—
fuck
.”

“I’m sorry. I . . . things got away from me. I wasn’t thinking.”

Devon looked to the tall arching ceiling of the arena like he was beseeching the heavens to save him from his imbecile roommate, and he let out a frustrated breath. “Got away from you? You think? Goddammit, Hunt. With your size, you’d think you could handle your alcohol. You’re a fucking lightweight. That’s what happened.”

Hunter’s jaw tightened. He knew he wasn’t all that drunk. Buzzed, maybe, but give him a straight line and he could walk it. He sure as hell wasn’t going to share that tidbit, though. He wasn’t drunk, but he’d definitely been out of his mind to make out with his best friend. “You didn’t exactly stop things, you know. I’m not the only one who’s trashed.”

Devon grimaced. “Freaking cheap tequila. I’m never drinking that shit again.”

Well, that answered that question. Devon looked disgusted. Kissing Hunter had disgusted him. Hunter cleared his throat and shifted his weight, discomfort rolling in like high tide. “Look, whatever. We’re drunk. I’m sorry. That girl was annoying the shit out of me, and I took the show too far.”

The last song ended and cheers erupted around from the arena. Devon glanced in the direction of the sound and rubbed the spot between his brows, resignation in his expression. “Come on, we’ll deal with this later. We need to get backstage before the rush.”

Hunter didn’t move. “I don’t need to go back with you. I can grab something to eat, and you can spend time with your sister.”

Dev pinned him with a look. “No, you’re coming. She wants to meet you, and I’m not leaving you out here to freak out over what just happened when you sober up. You can get some food backstage.”

Hunter shoved his hands in his pockets and followed, but wished he could walk right out the door. He was such an idiot. What the hell had he been thinking?

He hadn’t been. That was the only explanation.

The scene backstage was chaotic and overwhelming. People everywhere, voices shouting, no clear path to where they were supposed to go. Devon stopped and asked a guy with a headset something and flashed him the VIP passes. After that, they were ushered into a separate room down a hallway by a chatty woman with pigtails and rainbow socks.

The room they entered was smaller and much quieter. Only a few people were inside, and when Devon’s sister saw who had arrived, her face lit up and she shooed everyone else out. The door had barely clicked shut behind them before Oakley tackled Devon with a bear hug. “Oh my God, you made it!”

“Like I would miss it.” Dev swept her up and spun her off her feet.

Hunter had to smile at the obvious love between the two. He knew that Devon was the only family Oakley really had to go to these days. She’d lived with him in an off-campus apartment for a while when her music career was getting started, Devon acting as a guardian. But when Pop Luck had broken out, the record company helped her get emancipated from her parents so that she could tour without restrictions.

When Devon had told him the story, Dev had played it off as not that big a deal. But Hunter couldn’t help but wonder how hard that must have been to be responsible for his sister. And even now it had to be tough on the two of them. Oakley was just a kid living in a grown-up world. Devon was on the sidelines, unable to do much more than be moral support to her by phone.

Devon introduced Hunter, and Oakley gave him a hug and chatted with him a bit before settling down with her brother to catch up. Hunter was happy to take a backseat and let them do their thing. Maybe he could get his head together before he had to face Dev alone again.

Devon cupped the side of his sister’s face, giving her an evaluating once-over. “You’re not sleeping enough, Oak. That stage makeup can’t hide those dark circles. Are they not giving you enough time off in between shows? Are you taking your vitamins? Do I need to talk to Liam?”

She flicked Devon’s hand away. “God no, don’t say anything to him. I’m fine. It’s just been a long stretch of back-to-back shows. We’re going to Europe next week, and I’ll get a few days off. Don’t stress about me. I’m good. How’s school?”

“I’m doing all right.”

“And by that, he means he’s acing every class and making the rest of us look bad,” Hunter offered, trying to look like he was participating in the conversation and not quietly having a breakdown.

Oakley smiled his way, her bright blue hair making her look like some cartoon pixie. “Is he still staying up all hours of the night to cram?”

“No. I cut him off at two so I can get some sleep. He usually listens.”

“You’re being nice,” she said. “I know he’s a nightmare to room with. I’ve been there.”

A nightmare wasn’t exactly how he’d label it. Hunter couldn’t imagine college without Dev across the room from him. That worn-out, cramped space at the top of the frat house felt more like home than anything else had in his life. But of course he couldn’t say all that. “He’s better than my last roommate. That one was messy as hell and farted in his sleep.”