love these jeans.”
So did Brad. They drew attention to Danny’s narrow hips and long legs. It was all Brad could do to keep from tripping over his feet while he stared at Danny’s ass in those jeans.
“And besides,” Danny continued, “it’s not like this is rugged camping or anything, what with the paved trails and wooden boardwalks.”
“Hell of a view, though.” Brad nodded at the lake, which was shining a deep teal in the afternoon sun.
The whir of spinning bike tires sounded along the path behind them. “That view’s not too bad, either,” Danny said, his gaze tracking the movement of a pair of shirtless men who zipped past them on mountain bikes.
“Dude, you need to be careful who you drool over. The one on the left could snap you in half without breaking a sweat.” The guys were showing off some seriously sexy muscles, but he preferred Danny’s tight, lean body.
Danny waved his concern aside. “They didn’t even notice us. Next bike that comes around the bend is your boyfriend.”
“What?”
“Didn’t you ever play the boyfriend game? You know, first guy you see with a red shirt, or whatever, is your boyfriend.”
“No, I can honestly say I’ve never heard of such a thing.”
“Your education is sadly lacking.” Danny shook his head in mock sympathy. “You obviously didn’t attend many slumber parties as a kid. Or grow up surrounded by adolescent girls.”
“True.” Brad smirked. “I did not have slumber parties with adolescent girls. I take it you did?”
“Man, you met my family. I have girl cousins all over the place. Connie can tell you all about the boyfriend game. Speaking of...” His voice trailed off and he cocked his head to the side. A second later, Brad heard it too. The grip of rubber on asphalt.
Danny rubbed his hands together and nudged Brad with his elbow. “Aren’t you excited to meet your new boyfriend?”
“I’m all a-flutter.”
The cyclist who came around the bend was middle aged, heavyset and balding. He wore a yellow tank top that revealed a painful-looking sunburn. Under the generic gray safety helmet, his nose was covered in white cream. Danny’s face turned purple, his body practically seizing while he tried to hold in his laughter. When the yellow shirt was no longer visible, he broke. After what had to be nearly two minutes of nonstop giggling, he wheezed in a breath and gasped, “Quite a boyfriend.”
“What can I say?” Brad kept his tone bland. “It’s true love.” This set Danny off on another round of helpless guffaws.
“Speaking of hot men,” Danny said several minutes later as they stood up to start the return trek to the campsite, “I take it you have a thing for soccer players.”
“Soccer players?” It took a second, but it finally dawned on him Danny meant the picture of Carson on his laptop. “Oh, that. Not really. I mean, sure, what’s not to like, but that’s not why I read the article.”
“You were reading the article, not admiring the hottie? Isn’t that why we ‘read’ porn?”
Brad reached down, picked up a couple of rocks and rotated them in his hand like worry balls. “In this case, it’s true. The soccer player, the hottie, he’s my, well, my ex.”
Danny’s eyes grew wide. “Your ex? You dated him?”
“For a while, yeah, a couple of years ago.”
They’d gone a few yards when Danny asked, “Are you crazy or something?”
“What?” Brad stopped the monotonous shifting of the rocks in his hand.
“No one in their right mind would break up with that guy. He’s too pretty to let go.”
“Looks aren’t everything,” Brad said. “But we didn’t break up, not exactly.”
“How do you ‘not exactly’ break up with someone?”
“We never did the official breakup thing. It was sort of assumed, though, by everyone.”
“Why? What happened?” Danny stopped in the middle of the path and turned to face Brad.
He dropped the rocks, then dusted his palms on the front of his jeans.
So did Brad. They drew attention to Danny’s narrow hips and long legs. It was all Brad could do to keep from tripping over his feet while he stared at Danny’s ass in those jeans.
“And besides,” Danny continued, “it’s not like this is rugged camping or anything, what with the paved trails and wooden boardwalks.”
“Hell of a view, though.” Brad nodded at the lake, which was shining a deep teal in the afternoon sun.
The whir of spinning bike tires sounded along the path behind them. “That view’s not too bad, either,” Danny said, his gaze tracking the movement of a pair of shirtless men who zipped past them on mountain bikes.
“Dude, you need to be careful who you drool over. The one on the left could snap you in half without breaking a sweat.” The guys were showing off some seriously sexy muscles, but he preferred Danny’s tight, lean body.
Danny waved his concern aside. “They didn’t even notice us. Next bike that comes around the bend is your boyfriend.”
“What?”
“Didn’t you ever play the boyfriend game? You know, first guy you see with a red shirt, or whatever, is your boyfriend.”
“No, I can honestly say I’ve never heard of such a thing.”
“Your education is sadly lacking.” Danny shook his head in mock sympathy. “You obviously didn’t attend many slumber parties as a kid. Or grow up surrounded by adolescent girls.”
“True.” Brad smirked. “I did not have slumber parties with adolescent girls. I take it you did?”
“Man, you met my family. I have girl cousins all over the place. Connie can tell you all about the boyfriend game. Speaking of...” His voice trailed off and he cocked his head to the side. A second later, Brad heard it too. The grip of rubber on asphalt.
Danny rubbed his hands together and nudged Brad with his elbow. “Aren’t you excited to meet your new boyfriend?”
“I’m all a-flutter.”
The cyclist who came around the bend was middle aged, heavyset and balding. He wore a yellow tank top that revealed a painful-looking sunburn. Under the generic gray safety helmet, his nose was covered in white cream. Danny’s face turned purple, his body practically seizing while he tried to hold in his laughter. When the yellow shirt was no longer visible, he broke. After what had to be nearly two minutes of nonstop giggling, he wheezed in a breath and gasped, “Quite a boyfriend.”
“What can I say?” Brad kept his tone bland. “It’s true love.” This set Danny off on another round of helpless guffaws.
“Speaking of hot men,” Danny said several minutes later as they stood up to start the return trek to the campsite, “I take it you have a thing for soccer players.”
“Soccer players?” It took a second, but it finally dawned on him Danny meant the picture of Carson on his laptop. “Oh, that. Not really. I mean, sure, what’s not to like, but that’s not why I read the article.”
“You were reading the article, not admiring the hottie? Isn’t that why we ‘read’ porn?”
Brad reached down, picked up a couple of rocks and rotated them in his hand like worry balls. “In this case, it’s true. The soccer player, the hottie, he’s my, well, my ex.”
Danny’s eyes grew wide. “Your ex? You dated him?”
“For a while, yeah, a couple of years ago.”
They’d gone a few yards when Danny asked, “Are you crazy or something?”
“What?” Brad stopped the monotonous shifting of the rocks in his hand.
“No one in their right mind would break up with that guy. He’s too pretty to let go.”
“Looks aren’t everything,” Brad said. “But we didn’t break up, not exactly.”
“How do you ‘not exactly’ break up with someone?”
“We never did the official breakup thing. It was sort of assumed, though, by everyone.”
“Why? What happened?” Danny stopped in the middle of the path and turned to face Brad.
He dropped the rocks, then dusted his palms on the front of his jeans.
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