Craig
CRAIG WOKE early the next morning, and it took a moment for him to realize the warm body pressed against him was Mitchell. The memory of the night before came rushing back and his heart rate sped up. What if he’d ruined their friendship? What if Mitchell regretted last night?
Craig certainly didn’t. He could never be sorry for what they had done. If anything, it had only cemented the idea that they were meant to be together.
Mitchell moved in his arms, a soft sigh escaping his lips, and Craig wanted nothing more than to stay snuggled with him under the covers, but his bladder was calling the shots. He slipped out as carefully as possible, sliding his arm out from under Mitchell’s head, and padded to the bathroom.
On his way back to bed, he grabbed his phone from the nightstand and was surprised to see it was already after nine. They’d planned on going over to see the Budweiser Clydesdales and tour the brewery, so he wondered if he should wake Mitchell up. Craig wasn’t sure when the tours started.
Craig set his phone down and looked at Mitchell, blinking in surprise when he caught him staring back. Mitchell’s eyes widened as his gaze raked over Craig, reminding Craig he was still naked.
Mitchell licked his lips as Craig dropped to the edge of the bed, his hand patting Mitchell’s thigh.
“Good morning.”
“Morning,” Mitchell said, his voice cracking and his cheeks pinking up.
An awkwardness hit him, and Craig lifted his hand from Mitchell’s leg. “Um, I just woke up a few minutes ago. It’s after nine. Do you still want to go see the Clydesdales?”
Mitchell nodded, eyes wide. He looked worried, and Craig’s heart sank. Mitchell regretted what happened. Shit. How could Craig have been so wrong?
“I’m going to take a shower. I’ll make it quick so you can get in soon.” Craig tried to keep his voice light as his heart shattered. He’d fucked up. He’d fucked up so badly. Without giving Mitchell a chance to say anything, Craig slipped into the bathroom, leaning against the door, fighting the nausea. What have I done?
THEIR MORNING was stilted as they ate their granola bars in near silence. Conversation had been reduced to one-syllable words. They grabbed a taxi to see the Budweiser Clydesdales and take a tour through the brewery, making the decision to leave the car at the hotel in case they had a little too much to drink. A person couldn’t go to a brewery without sampling some beer, right? And alcohol was definitely something Craig was looking forward to.
Craig’s brain wouldn’t shut down as they sat quietly in the back of the taxi. He would never forget the sight of Mitchell standing in the shower, his body tight, one hand on his dick, the other braced on the wall, water running down his flushed skin. That image would be imprinted in his brain forever. And the look on his face when he came was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. But he pushed those thoughts aside for the moment because it only made him hard as marble.
His gut was twisted as he wondered how to get rid of the awkwardness still hanging between them. Maybe Mitchell regretted it because he thought it was one-night thing. Maybe he could still show Mitchell what kind of man he could be. What kind of boyfriend he could be.
Craig had hoped that last night would show Mitchell how he felt, but they hadn’t talked about anything afterward, both too content and tired—and scared, at least on Craig’s part. If he wanted a real chance, he couldn’t put it off much longer. Craig had to tell him how he felt. Even if Mitchell shot him down, he had to know. He was leaving for California, and not knowing would be worse than being turned down in his mind. It was time to be honest and he made up his mind to talk with Mitchell as soon as they were back at the hotel and could be alone.
Craig paid the taxi driver and slid out, holding the door for Mitchell. He grabbed his arm, holding him in place while he closed the door.
Mitchell trembled under his hand, and Craig caught his eye.
“No regrets, Mitchell,” he whispered.
Mitchell glanced down at his feet and trembled again before he seemed to draw himself up to stare back at Craig.
His lips curved into a small smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “What happens on a road trip, stays on a road trip, right?”
If that was how he wanted to play it for now, Craig would go along with him, so he smiled. “Sure.”
They stared into each other’s eyes for a moment before they followed the other tourists heading in to see the famous Clydesdales.
“Do you think they’re the same ones in the commercials?” Mitchell asked.
Craig shrugged. “I assume at least some of them are.”
By the time they arrived at the stable, the tension between them was beginning to dissolve. Whether it was the fun of seeing the famous horses, the fact that they were best friends and had been for so long, or because of the whole “road trip” idea Mitchell had proffered, Craig wasn’t sure. He didn’t really care; he was just glad they were more or less back to themselves.
The Clydesdales were huge. Much bigger than either had realized. They were lucky to have someone on the tour use Craig’s phone to take their picture together near a couple of the Clydesdales. Craig glanced at it before sliding it back into his pocket, and he grinned. They stood together, Craig’s arm slung over Mitchell’s shoulder and his friend’s arm around his waist, grinning like fools. Craig’s heart twisted. Their smiles told him everything he needed to know. They belonged together. Looking at that picture reinforced his resolve that they should be together. He had to show Mitchell.
They toured the brewery and tasted several samples, but not enough to make them tipsy. But after the tour, they hung out at the Biergarten and had a few drinks with others from the tour. They ordered some lunch and tried some of the various beers while sitting outside on the patio. The sun was out, but massive umbrellas kept them all in the shade.
“Where you guys from?”
Craig turned to Hank, the older gentleman on his left. “Kansas City.”
“Dubuque, Iowa,” Hank offered and tilted his head to the plump blonde woman on his other side. “Mary Jo and I always wanted to come to St. Louis. You guys on vacation?”
“Yeah. We’re doing a road trip around Missouri since we’re moving in a week.” Craig’s belly flipped at his own words and he took a sip from the cold beer bottle.
“Oh, that’s too bad. Where to?” Mary Jo asked.
“California.”
“West Virginia,” Mitchell answered at the same time.
Mary Jo wrinkled her forehead. “Isn’t that going to be hard on you two? Are you planning on doing the long-distance thing?”
Mitchell looked at Craig, eyes wide as they both realized their new friends thought they were a couple. Mitchell opened his mouth to say something, but Craig grabbed the arm of his metal chair and pulled him closer. He wasn’t sure what got into him, but he decided to just roll with it.
“Not if I can convince him to come to California with me.”
Mitchell’s mouth gaped open, and Craig turned to wink at him. He allowed himself, finally, to reach over and twine his fingers with Mitchell’s right there in front of everyone, and it was everything he had ever wanted. The feel of Mitchell’s hand in his was perfect, just as it had been last night. Even if all Craig ever had with him was this road trip and a moment of pretending to be his boyfriend, then Craig would take it.
“Why can’t you go to West Virginia with him?” Hank asked.
Craig glanced at Mitchell, their eyes meeting. “I would follow him anywhere,” he admitted softly. “All he has to do is ask.”
Hank said something, but at that moment, every cell in Craig’s body was focused on Mitchell. His cheeks pinked up as he held Craig’s gaze and he bit his lower lip. Craig squeezed his hand and swallowed hard.
A few more people joined them, but Craig was lost in Mitchell’s eyes. Frozen to his seat. He couldn’t move. He could barely breathe.
“What are you doing?” Mitchell whispered, his pupils black as night.
Craig’s heart thundered in his ears. “What do you think I’m doing?” he asked, licking his lips.
Mitchell leaned in until his mouth was almost touching Craig’s ear. “I think you’re messing with their heads.”
Craig squeezed his hand again. Shit. I can’t tell him the truth right here. Can I?
Mitchell grinned slyly. “Okay, fake boyfriend, you got it. Let’s have some fun.” His whisper was so soft, Craig barely heard him. Mitchell leaned back and turned to Mary Jo.
“I don’t want him to move to West Virginia,” he said. “Even I don’t want to move there.”
Was that the truth? Did Mitchell really not want to go out east?
“Then why not California?”
Mitchell grinned. “He knows why.” He elbowed Craig.
Craig was bewildered. What the hell was happening? They were still playing around, right?
“Oh, fine, I’ll tell them, baby,” Mitchell said in a huff.
Baby? Fuck that triggered something in Craig.
“He won’t commit. Says we just graduated from college and shouldn’t be tied down yet.”
Craig’s jaw dropped. “That’s not true!”
Mitchell’s eyes sparkled. “I don’t see a ring,” he said, pulling his hand free of Craig’s grasp and wiggling his fingers.
Craig caught the look in Mitchell’s eyes and grinned. “Is that all that’s stopping you from coming with me to California?” He rose from his seat, knees a little wobbly as the alcohol had finally hit his system, and then knelt down on one knee.
Mary Jo and another woman squealed with delight behind him, but he didn’t break character. He couldn’t have if he wanted to. The way Mitchell’s eyes were watching him, he was a goner. If only Mitchell knew he wasn’t playing around. This wasn’t like the day before at the Mark Twain house—he wasn’t that good of an actor.
Craig reached over and took Mitchell’s hands in his and licked his lips again. “I don’t have a ring, Mitchell, but we can go out and buy one today. If you’ll promise to be my husband, I’ll always be by your side. Always support your goals, your dreams. Come with me to California and be a writer. Don’t write for that magazine! Let’s build a life together. I need you, baby.” The words fell effortlessly from his lips because Craig was finally able to say what he felt—to give voice to his dreams.
Mitchell’s face had gone pale and a tear welled up at the corner of his right eye. Did he believe Craig? Had he gone too far? He squeezed Mitchell’s hands and winked again, hoping to put him at ease.
Mitchell smiled as he pulled his hands free and threw his arms around Craig’s neck, surprising him. He fell back some, but caught his balance just in time for Mitchell’s lips to find his, giving him a soft, sweet kiss.
Desire jolted through him, and when Mitchell pulled back, he chased his lips and claimed them, the kiss growing quickly in intensity. Craig broke the kiss before he lost complete control and swept his tongue into Mitchell’s mouth, something he’d ached to do since last night.
When he pulled away, they looked at each other and chuckled. The others around the table clapped, surprising Craig. He’d almost forgotten they weren’t alone. He stood, pulling Mitchell with him, and turned to bow to their audience before practically dragging him out of the large gate.
“Wait!”
Craig turned back, his breathing ragged, his heart pounding so hard he was surprised it wasn’t jumping out of his chest. “What?” he asked, his voice rough.
“Where are we going? You haven’t even finished eating.” Mitchell had the cutest bewildered expression on his face.
Craig looked at their joined hands and then back at Mitchell. His cheeks were pink and the wind was blowing those silky layers around. His gaze landed on those full pink lips and he took one step closer, pulling Mitchell’s arm and wrapping it around his waist before cupping his cheeks with both hands.
“What’s happening?” Mitchell whispered, eyes wide.
What was happening? Craig shook his head, finally looking around. He’d been so caught up in pretending to be Mitchell’s boyfriend, he’d nearly dragged him back to the hotel. He swallowed hard and stepped back, his hands dropping from Mitchell’s face.
“I-I’m not sure,” he admitted, shrugging.
“You should be an actor.”
“Huh?”
“God, you even had me going, Craig!” Mitchell let out a shaky laugh. “If you want to go, we can, but let’s head back to the table, get our bag of stuff we bought at the gift shop, and we were also going to buy some more beer, remember?”
I wasn’t acting. That’s what he wanted to say. “Sure, sorry,” he murmured, embarrassed.
But Mitchell was smiling. “Come on, baby,” he teased, “let’s go finish our show and head back to the hotel. Maybe swim some?”
Craig grinned. It sounded like they had a plan. Somehow his impromptu plan to share his true feelings had failed to get through to Mitchell, but Craig was going to go with his original plan and talk with him back at the hotel, where they could be alone.