Heat Stroke (Beach Kingdom, #2)(35)

Jamie seemed to be struggling with his answer.

“That means yes, doesn’t it? Jesus Christ.”

“It’s not a yes, Diesel,” Jamie snapped, taking a step in his direction, his dark hair being plastered to his forehead by the falling condensation. “I’m just trying to figure out what control I’m giving up of this whole fucking mess if I start answering questions like that. And explaining myself to you. Where does that lead?”

A beat passed. Two. “Is that a yes?”

Jamie exhaled on an unsteady laugh. “What the hell am I going to do with you?”

“Anything you want,” Marcus whispered back.

The look Jamie gave him back said that’s not true and you know it.

“Was tonight really so easy for you?” Marcus asked, his voice rising, a hand swiping across his forehead to brush away the rain. “Pawning me off on another guy? Was it really that easy, Jamie?”

“No. It wasn’t.”

Marcus barely heard Jamie’s reply because of the sudden roar in his ears, carried forth by the memories. Jamie sitting too close to Kurt. Letting Marcus sit too close to Adam. “Do you think I’m going to be attracted to just anyone? Is that what you think?” He used his bottle to gesture at the house. “Your brothers are both hot and I’ve never once thought of fucking either of them. Not once.”

Jamie’s face screwed up. “For chrissake, Marcus.”

“Sorry, I was just trying to support my point.” The bottle sloshed at his side. “It’s just you, Jamie. It’s only you, since as far back as I can remember. So did Father Time kiss you or not? Put me out of my fucking misery.”

“No. Okay? No.” Jamie two-hand shoved Marcus back a step. “He didn’t kiss me. I ran out of the bar after you. I left and went straight to your building, Deez Nuts. I’ve been going out of my fucking mind, you don’t even answer your phone and now you think you can question me? I was…I was…”

Marcus felt his face split into a grin. “Worried about me?”

“Don’t you dare smile.”

Enough warmth spread in his chest, he was worried his heart might drown, but at least it would go happy. “Jamie Prince was worried about me.”

Jamie strode past him toward the door, already taking out his keys. “You should be worried I’m going to clock you with that bottle.”

Marcus floated behind him up the path. “Where are you going?”

“Inside.” Once Jamie got the door open, he paused. Without turning around he cursed under his breath. Head falling forward, he asked, “Are you coming?”

Not in a million years did Marcus ever expect to see the inside of Jamie’s house. It was nothing like he’d pictured, either. In his mind, Jamie was a king living in a palace, deigning to mingle with lesser men. But the space was homey, slightly outdated, signs of its male inhabitants everywhere, though Rory’s girlfriend’s influence was in places, too. Textbooks, sunflowers in vases sprinkled in among the kicked off sneakers and empty beer bottles.

The house was empty thanks to Andrew and Rory working the Castle Gate, and Jamie didn’t stop in the quiet kitchen. He tossed his keys onto the kitchen counter and headed for the stairs so fast, Marcus had to speed walk after him. He saw Jamie take a left and disappear into a room at the end of the hall, and with his pulse spiking like a football, he followed.

“This is more what I pictured,” Marcus said, entering the dimly lit room, rubbing his sweating palms on his rain-soaked jeans. “Black and white and dark wood and no dust on your desk fan and a Mac. I knew you’d have a Mac. No dishes anywhere. I knew you’d have no—”

“You’re rambling, Diesel,” Jamie said, sitting on the bed and bending forward to untie his boots. “Take a deep breath. It’s just me.”

“Just you,” Marcus said with a quiet laugh. “That’s like saying…just Noah Syndergaard.”

Having toed off his boots, Jamie straightened. “Except I’m less pitcher, more catcher.”

“Oh.” Understanding dawned and Marcus’s eyes widened. “Oh.”

Already, there hadn’t been a hope in hell of his dick staying soft in Jamie’s bedroom. After Jamie’s implication that he liked being on the bottom, Marcus’s cock was at such rigid attention, it threatened to bust open his jeans. He could only exist inside the fierce ache as Jamie stripped off his shirt and stood, taking slow, measured steps in Marcus’s direction.

“Why did you come here for?” Jamie asked, stopping right in front of him.

A shiver passed through Marcus and he had to close his eyes because having Jamie so close and so half naked in front of a bed was so overwhelming. “To make sure you got home safe.”

“Why else?”

“If that guy kissed you,” Marcus breathed unevenly. “I was probably going to break a bottle over my own head.”

“That’s probably not a healthy impulse, but sure.” Marcus only knew Jamie moved closer because of the warm breath that fanned his neck. “What did you come here for?”

Marcus swallowed hard. “I wanted to be the one who kissed you good night, babe.”

A pause. “Just kiss me?”

“No,” Marcus rasped, thunder cracking in his bloodstream. “I came for all of it.”