Mitch
THE MINUTE they walked into their hotel room, Mitch grabbed his bag and headed to the bathroom. “Taking a shower,” he called out as Craig put the limited-edition beer bottles they’d bought into the miniature fridge.
He closed the bathroom door and leaned against it, finally able to take a deep breath. What a freaking whirlwind of a day. When Craig had first kneeled down, he wasn’t sure what was going on, but when he winked at him, Mitch had caught on that he was just playing around.
But when he’d spoken those words, Mitch had never been more confused in his life. Everyone else had faded away and his heart had leapt at Craig’s declarations. It was so real and felt so right, and yet he knew it was all just in fun. He’d been unable to stop himself from kissing Craig, knowing it could be the last chance he ever had. It had been worth it. Craig had surprised him by kissing him back. It had felt so real. So very real.
Mitch brought his fingers to his mouth. He could still feel the tingle of Craig’s stubble on his skin, the way he smelled as he leaned into Mitch, and the taste of his lips, and he wanted more. But he also worried that he’d given away too much—that Craig had seen through him and known Mitch would give anything to go to California with him.
He felt sticky from the hot afternoon and needed to clean up, so he finally turned the water on, stripped, and jumped in the shower. Unlike last night, he didn’t dawdle and take things in hand, so to speak. He was tired. Craig wanted to go swimming, but by the time the taxi had dropped them off, they were both still a little buzzed and they’d decided to watch a movie and hang out in the room. Craig wanted to order from the pizza place again, and Mitch was good with that idea.
Mitch washed quickly and got ready for bed, slipping into his pajama bottoms again, but he still felt warm, so he left his T-shirt off. When he came out of the bathroom, Craig was on the phone, ordering the pizza. His eyes widened, and Mitchell swore Craig was checking him out, his gaze dragging down Mitchell’s body and back up deliberately.
He hung up and smiled. “Pizza’s ordered. We have beer, and I found some movies we can order.”
Mitch dumped his bag on the floor and flopped back on the bed, his arm tucked under his head. He was fine with whatever Craig picked to watch because he knew once he’d eaten, he’d be out like a light.
Craig turned the TV back on, and they watched the news, both quiet, lost in their own thoughts.
“I think I’m turning into an old man,” Mitch admitted.
Craig laughed and turned the volume down. “Why?”
“Because all I want to do is go to sleep. The day wore me out.”
Craig walked over and sat on the edge of Mitch’s bed, resting his hand on Mitch’s ankle. “I guess being proposed to by the man of your dreams will do that to a guy, right?”
Mitch narrowed his eyes and stared at his friend. “Yeah, about that….”
“What? You didn’t like it?”
“What the hell was that?”
Craig’s gaze skittered around the room and he fidgeted on the bed. “I don’t know. I thought it would be fun.”
A little too fun and hitting way too close to home.
“Hey, you were into it too. You kissed me, remember?” Craig stood up and paced the room. “You could have told me to stop.”
Mitch felt his face heat up and he dragged himself to a sitting position, wrapping his arms around his bent knees and holding them close to his chest. He leaned his head against the headboard. Craig was right. But he’d been so caught up in the moment, he hadn’t been able to stop himself. Craig came back to his bed and sat down on the edge, close to Mitch’s legs.
“I’m sorry if I went to too far,” he said, his voice gruff. Their eyes met and Craig’s lips curved down. “I didn’t mean to embarrass you or make you feel awkward. I was just… goofing around.” He sighed and reached, placing his hand on top of Mitch’s joined hands. Mitch untangled his fingers and let Craig twine theirs together. Craig absently stroked his thumb across Mitch’s skin.
Mitch smiled at the touch and squeezed his hand. “It was fun being your pretend boyfriend.”
“And fiancé,” Craig reminded him, his lips curving up.
Mitch laughed. “That was my first proposal. I doubt any will ever top it, either.”
“You should come to California with me,” Craig urged. “I meant that, Mitchell. You could write.”
Mitch’s mouth gaped open. He wasn’t sure what to say. Surely Craig meant as a roommate, though. Just friends. His heart was racing, but his mind was cautioning himself to be realistic. There was no way Craig meant he wanted Mitch to go with him as his boyfriend. Yes, last night had been fun, but it wasn’t real. It was just playing around, right? Following Craig to California would only complicate his feelings even more. And he’d agreed to take the job in West Virginia. How would it look if he blew that off? It would surely upset his sister. He decided to play it off.
“Right, like you need me following you across the country, mooching off you while I try to write the Great American Novel.” He chuckled, his voice strained. “Seriously, I would just get in your way while you try to start your new life. And hey, I wouldn’t want to get in the way of your love life. Imagine bringing a guy home and him finding me on your couch?”
Craig’s face paled and he pulled his hand away as if burned. He opened his mouth to say something, but the knock on the door stopped him. Without another word, he walked over to answer and pay for the pizza.
The air smelled of pepperoni and Italian spices as Craig brought it through and set it on the desk. The delivery driver had remembered plates, so they each grabbed one and piled the pizza high before heading back to their respective beds.
Silently, Craig turned the sound up on the TV, and instead of watching a movie as they’d planned, they both stared blankly at the screen, an old rerun of COPS playing.
The pizza that had tasted so amazing the night before tasted like cardboard with tomato sauce this time, and Mitch couldn’t swallow more than a few bites. After he tossed it in the trash, he grabbed a bottle of beer and stood at the window, staring out at the night skyline. The Arch rose high above the city.
Craig must have been looking out the window, too, because he spoke up. “Still want to go to the Arch in the morning before we head toward Osage Beach?”
Did he? “Sure,” he answered, his mouth dry. He took a long swig of the cold beer and felt it run down his throat. It tasted good, and he wanted more. He guzzled the rest and grabbed another from the small fridge.
Craig watched him but didn’t say anything as he sipped his own bottle.
The awkwardness was back, blanketing the room as they spent the rest of the evening watching TV and drinking until Mitch gave up and went to bed early. He didn’t know what to say anymore, and after a third bottle, the alcohol had numbed him enough that he could stop focusing on the events of the night before and the “playing around” from earlier in the day. If only he could forget the way Craig’s lips felt on his.
His dreams were filled with fuzzy images of something he couldn’t reach. Over and over he trekked through forests and cities only to arrive at an empty apartment.
Empty like his heart, he assumed. Empty like his life would be without Craig. In his dreams he cried out for Craig. Told him how he felt. Begged him to quit hiding and show his face. To ask him to go to California again.
When he woke the next morning, his mouth felt like he’d swallowed a bunch of cotton balls, and he stumbled out of bed toward the bathroom. His head pounded and it felt like a million grains of sand had made their home in his eyes. Fuck, how much had he drunk last night?
He braced himself on the counter and grabbed one of the paper cups, ripped the plastic cover off, and let it drop to the floor. He filled it with cold water from the faucet and greedily downed the whole cup before refilling and sipping it the second time around.
Mitch glanced in the mirror and couldn’t believe the sight that greeted him. His eyes were bloodshot, his face pale, and his hair sticking up all over. He even had a gross patch of dried drool on his cheek.
He peed quickly and turned the shower on, praying for mercy as the hot water poured down, slicing into him like tiny little knives. It was painful, but by the time he climbed out, he was feeling a little more human.
Once he stepped into the room, the air-conditioning hit his damp skin and he shivered, reaching for his bag and dressing as quickly and quietly as possible. Finally daring a glance at the other bed, he saw it was empty.
Panic filled him as he briefly wondered if he’d scared Craig off last night. Mitch had tried to sound nonchalant, to make his tone light so his friend wouldn’t see through and know how much he really did want to go to California with him. But not as a friend. He couldn’t do that. It would kill him to watch Craig go on with his life without Mitch.
The door opened and Craig walked in, a cheery smile on his face. “I come bearing donuts and coffee!” he declared, waving a box above his head with one hand and lifting the container holding two cups of coffee in the other.
“Oh, thank you, God,” Mitch said, his voice cracking as he reached for one of the cups.
Craig laughed. “I figured you might be feeling a little hungover. You knocked ’em back last night,” he needlessly reminded Mitch.
“Yeah.” Mitch lifted the lid and smiled as steam rose from the top. He sipped as he watched Craig from the side of his eye. Was he upset? He seemed to be in a good mood.
“Got your favorite blueberry cake donuts. I figured after we eat, we could pack up and check out before we head over to the Arch.”
“Sounds like a plan.” Mitch watched Craig and couldn’t figure out why he kept grinning. “What?”
Craig laughed and reached over, tousling his hair. Okay. That was new.
“Seriously? What the fuck is going on?” Mitch ground out, irritated for reasons he couldn’t put a finger on.
“Nothing. Sleep good?”
Mitch shrugged. “Not really. Weird dreams.”
Craig smiled, donut in hand. “Yeah?”
Mitch nodded. “Don’t really remember them. Just weird.”
Craig chuckled and took a bite.
Okay, his friend was acting freaking weird. He raised an eyebrow over his coffee cup and stared at Craig. Who, of course, looked sexy and all put together in a pair of khaki shorts and dark blue Henley. He tore his gaze away when his dick twitched, worried he would give himself away.
“You talked in your sleep,” Craig said, grinning again. “A lot.”
Shit.
“I tried to wake you up, but you were completely out of it.”
Yeah. Too much beer will do that to you. Although three beers shouldn’t have knocked him out. Of course, not having eaten much didn’t help the situation. And being out in the sun most of the day probably added to it. Something about his dreams niggled at the back of his mind. Craig was in there somewhere. Surely he didn’t say anything he shouldn’t have.
“You shouldn’t keep secrets from your best friend, you know,” Craig said after he finished his donut.
Mitch narrowed his eyes. “What secrets?”
Craig rolled his eyes. “Really?” He pinned Mitch with a stare.
His heart raced and he swallowed. What the hell? The only secret he had was… oh, fuck.
He felt the heat rise in his cheeks and turned away, hurriedly packing his bag. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he mumbled.
To his great relief, Craig let it go, and they finished packing and headed out.