A single bet. Two people. And one month of free ice-cream.
Unspoken promises, heated gazes, and an inexplicable lust for each other. Will Tyler and Brandon confess their true feelings? Or will their playful banter and awkward moments dissolve into n...
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TYLER'S POV
The moment Brandon had suggested that I shower in the boys' changing room I should have foreseen the calamity that was going to strike us. I should have, but I didn't. There was something charming about living a life of pure ignorant bliss, and maybe that's what I did that day.
As I stood under the shower, the water ran down the length of my body and warmed my skin. My fingertips were a blushing red color, and the skin turned shriveled the longer I stayed in there. I trailed a finger over my lips. They tingled, feeling alive and swollen. Flashes of the kiss Brandon and I had shared filled my mind. My stomach still felt jittery, remembering the way his body had pressed against mine, the way his hand had wrapped around my waist and held me close, the feel of his lips on my lips, the loud thump of my heartbeat in my ear, the absolute feeling of melting in the heat that had wafted off him. How the smell and taste of my lip balm had mixed with his scent. A shiver ran down my body even as heat crept up my neck.
My hormones seemed to be on a field trip today. Hoping that my flushed cheeks wouldn't be noticeable after I got out of the shower, I turned the lever to a cooler temperature. Freezing water rained down on me and I yelped, hurrying to turn off the shower. The water supply cut off, and, and that's when I heard it,
"Hey man, are you really okay?"
I froze. That's not Brandon's voice.
I'm not a man.
Someone is here?! A mere second was all it took for my instinct to kick in, and I grabbed my towel, wrapping it around my body and securing it tightly. Whoever it was must have come closer because I saw a shadow appear on the other side of the curtain.
Panic filled me. Don't come closer, I pleaded inside my head but in vain. The silhouette walked closer to the curtain. Am I really going to get caught like this? The sound of my heartbeat echoed in my ear and I curled my fingers around my towel above my chest. Water dripped from my hair to my shoulders, trailing down the length of my arm. The few seconds that it took for the figure to approach the stall, I made up my mind and grabbed the handle of my bag. Brandon's face flashed inside my head, and contrary to the previous sentiment, budding rage was what consumed me. I will find you, and I will kill you. Cursing him again, I stationed myself to swing the bag at the person and make a run for it.
A hand touched the curtain. I took in a deep breath and narrowed my eyes. The curtain slid aside. I swung my bag back, ready to hit whoever was there right on the face; it was a major fail.
The wet floor became an accomplice with my rotten luck and I slid across the tiled surface. A startled voice came out of my throat—immediately after which a hand clamped down on my mouth—and another hand wrapped around my waist, saving me in time from a painful fall. My heart pounded out of my chest, and I tried to wiggle out of the arms to no avail. Frowning, I opened my eyes and stared at the person standing in front of me.
