Chapter 70

That wasn’t what Andy had been planning to say, but the very word filled him with longing. “I’m not going to lie; a nap sounds reallygood. I didn’t really sleep at all last night.” Andy glanced up at Scooter. “You’re…going to stay with me, right?”

Scooter shook his head. “No. You’re going to stay with me. My bed is bigger.”

The last of the ice in Andy’s chest thawed, and he nearly missed a step in relief. “Okay. Good idea. I like this plan. We’ll sleep. And then we’ll talk, or I will. And then, probably, I will have to go get All The Ice Cream for Kat or she’ll stab me, too.”

Scooter took Andy’s backpack and threw it into the tiny apartment. “There. Unpacked.” He tugged Andy across the walkway and into his own place, not quite able to look away. “You’re staying. I…didn’t lose you.” Scooter shut the door behind them and gently led Andy to his bedroom. He stripped down to his boxers and crawled into bed, waiting for Andy. “I’m going to sleep, and then I’m going to take a fucking mental health day.”

Andy stripped off his shirt and jeans and crawled onto the bed, nudging his way under the sheets until Scooter lifted them for him. “Yeah, that…” He slid up against Scooter’s side, pressing skin to skin and throwing his leg over Scooter’s. I almost threw this away, and he had to stifle a sob. He wriggled until Scooter’s arm wrapped around his shoulders, and then he tucked his head into the hollow of Scooter’s shoulder, eyelids already drooping. Staying. Not lost.“That sounds great.” 27

Scooter woke to a glare of sunlight on his face, streaming in through the west-facing window in his bedroom. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen the sun through that window. For a moment, still half-asleep, he pondered it, trying to recall how long it had been, and then the rest of his memory caught up with him. He reached out and found a warm shoulder.

They had started their nap twined together like hugging octopi, but at some point Andy had worked his way to the far side of the bed, leaving a little no-man’s land down the middle. Given how sticky and sweaty Scooter was, Andy really couldn’t be blamed for wanting to put some distance between them.

All the same, his skin ached for the sensation of Andy pressed against him, physical reassurance that Andy was still there. Scooter slid over, just a little. Just enough to let his legs brush against Andy’s thighs, enough to put one hand on Andy’s hip. Enough to ease the chattering remnants of panic in his brain, so he could snuggle back down into the pillow and watch Andy sleep.

Andy’s eyelashes were long enough to brush against his cheek, and his hair was tousled and tangled on the pillow. His mouth was relaxed and still in a way Scooter rarely saw when he was awake. His goatee was shaded with two days’ stubble, giving him a slightly rougher appearance than normal, and Scooter considered it for a long moment, trying to decide if it was more attractive that way than Andy’s usual careful grooming. It was an impossible conundrum; it was all Andy, and Scooter couldn’t object to a single thing about him, not now.

Scooter almost stretched out a finger to trace the line of Andy’s lip. He wanted to nudge Andy into wakefulness with kisses and caresses. There were a lot more things he wanted to do after that, too, and just thinking about them sent shivers straight down his spine. His blood pounded in his veins, stirring interest in his cock. Which was pointed in the wrong damn direction, ow. Scooter reached down the narrow space between them to adjust himself.

And then his hand was…down there. Less than two inches away from Andy’s dick, clad only in a pair of rather threadbare boxers.

“Bad,” he muttered to himself.

Andy frowned at the quiet sound, his nose scrunching. “Nn?” His eyelids squeezed tight, then opened suddenly, gaze darting around in confusion until it landed on Scooter. “Oh,” he breathed. “Was real.”

“Real as raindrops,” Scooter said. He squinched back a little bit. “I am totally not molesting you in your sleep. It just looks that way.” He tempered that with a quick, nervous grin. “You sleep okay, sweetheart? You looked worn to the bone.”

“Best sleep I’ve had in…maybe ever,” Andy said. He stretched, body pulling lean and tantalizing, then relaxed all at once.

Scooter had to work not to gape open-mouthed and start drooling. God, Andy was adorable and gorgeous and Scooter wanted to lick him from jaw to toes and back up. And he needed Andy to want that, too, needed to knowthat Andy still wanted him. “Third.” His brain had jumped from one point to the next so fast he had to backtrack, trying to figure out where that particular conclusion had come from…Oh, right. “Third date.”

Andy grinned, apparently catching up to Scooter’s teleporting brain with no trouble. “That’s the tradition,” he agreed. “Nap counts as a date?”

“This heathen bought you a frozen yogurt the second day you were here, remember?” Scooter leaned a little closer, kissed Andy’s cheek. “And you took me to a baseball game.” He kissed the other cheek. “And then Cogan’s.” He ducked his chin a little and pressed a kiss to Andy’s mouth. “Three. So if…if moving to a more serious relationship is something you still want…I want.” Dear God, did he want.