someone like Mike Miller, who would probably trample all over him once he got what he wanted, just like back in high school. People didn’t change, and James was the proof of that. He might have improved his shell, but inside, he was still the same awkward guy whose body froze whenever Mike Miller growled at him. Unfortunately, he also still got flustered and hot every time Mike Miller was close. He was enveloped in a bizarre, never-ending déja vu . He needed to keep things the way they were. Mike would get his money, and James would tell himself that he got over both his fear and lust for the man. It would be officially over.
James took his time washing every nook and cranny of his body. Despite all the time spent ruminating about Mike, and the rollercoaster of yesterday, his head remained empty even as he pressed the door handle and left the bathroom.
Seeing Mike in just a pair of white boxer briefs with a background of glorious sunshine wasn’t helping him think either. It was as if the sun was there just to welcome Mike in the morning and caress his muscular body. James had no idea what Mike had to be thinking of him now. The moment James came out though, Mike turned his head to him for a split second before continuing to dress without a word. He put on the light-brown slacks they chose yesterday so that Mike could impress James’s nemesis.
James cleared his throat and quickly rushed to the closet. “Hi,” he uttered, and as soon as his back started tingling, he knew Mike had to be looking back. He exhaled and looked at the clothes he came with. And to think he had been so sure of himself when he packed them. Now it didn’t seem like it was good enough.
“Which shirt do you want me to wear?” Mike asked as if he thought James believed he wasn’t good enough to have an opinion. “The tea-colored one or the white one?”
It was all James’s doing. He swallowed hard, unsuccessfully trying to cover himself with a sharp blue shirt. “Take the one you like.”
All the reply James got was silence and a rustle of fabric. He took a peek at Mike in the mirror and saw him in the white, soft cotton shirt with rolled up sleeves. Mike was tying the slim brown tie and looking like a million dollars. It was as if the shirt had been made for him. Or maybe it fell in love with Mike’s shape, from the wide shoulders and bulky arms to the defined stomach, and decided to hug him.
James swallowed and walked over to him. He wanted to give him some advice on the tie, but his breath caught in his throat the moment he touched the soft brown silk.
Mike looked right into his eyes in a way that felt very much like a punch, but didn’t say a thing, pulling his hands away and letting James do the tie.
James gritted his teeth and finished the tying, before slipping the end of the tie between two buttons over Mike’s breastbone, so that it wouldn’t loosely hang out. “Looks good on you,” he whispered.
“Like the trophy boyfriend of a millionaire should.” Mike gave James a crooked smile.
James cleared his throat and quickly made his way back to the closet. “I’m good-looking enough to not call my boyfriend a trophy. Not like that fucker Richard. I bet Savannah’s bored to death when she’s not out shopping with his credit card,” he growled, slipping on the shirt.
Mike put his hands in his pockets and leaned against the doorframe. “She seems to like fake teeth.”
“Too big for her mouth, right?” James swallowed. “Last year, she told me she had them done in L.A. in the same clinic as her favorite celebrity.”
“Anne Hathaway? That girl has a lot of teeth.”
“No idea,” said James but couldn’t hold back a smile. He buttoned up the shirt and reached for the boxer briefs, suddenly stopping with the underwear in the air. Was he supposed to slip it on under the towel as if he were on a beach, or just let the towel fall down and show Mike the ass he worked for at the gym?
Mike saved him the trouble.
James took his time washing every nook and cranny of his body. Despite all the time spent ruminating about Mike, and the rollercoaster of yesterday, his head remained empty even as he pressed the door handle and left the bathroom.
Seeing Mike in just a pair of white boxer briefs with a background of glorious sunshine wasn’t helping him think either. It was as if the sun was there just to welcome Mike in the morning and caress his muscular body. James had no idea what Mike had to be thinking of him now. The moment James came out though, Mike turned his head to him for a split second before continuing to dress without a word. He put on the light-brown slacks they chose yesterday so that Mike could impress James’s nemesis.
James cleared his throat and quickly rushed to the closet. “Hi,” he uttered, and as soon as his back started tingling, he knew Mike had to be looking back. He exhaled and looked at the clothes he came with. And to think he had been so sure of himself when he packed them. Now it didn’t seem like it was good enough.
“Which shirt do you want me to wear?” Mike asked as if he thought James believed he wasn’t good enough to have an opinion. “The tea-colored one or the white one?”
It was all James’s doing. He swallowed hard, unsuccessfully trying to cover himself with a sharp blue shirt. “Take the one you like.”
All the reply James got was silence and a rustle of fabric. He took a peek at Mike in the mirror and saw him in the white, soft cotton shirt with rolled up sleeves. Mike was tying the slim brown tie and looking like a million dollars. It was as if the shirt had been made for him. Or maybe it fell in love with Mike’s shape, from the wide shoulders and bulky arms to the defined stomach, and decided to hug him.
James swallowed and walked over to him. He wanted to give him some advice on the tie, but his breath caught in his throat the moment he touched the soft brown silk.
Mike looked right into his eyes in a way that felt very much like a punch, but didn’t say a thing, pulling his hands away and letting James do the tie.
James gritted his teeth and finished the tying, before slipping the end of the tie between two buttons over Mike’s breastbone, so that it wouldn’t loosely hang out. “Looks good on you,” he whispered.
“Like the trophy boyfriend of a millionaire should.” Mike gave James a crooked smile.
James cleared his throat and quickly made his way back to the closet. “I’m good-looking enough to not call my boyfriend a trophy. Not like that fucker Richard. I bet Savannah’s bored to death when she’s not out shopping with his credit card,” he growled, slipping on the shirt.
Mike put his hands in his pockets and leaned against the doorframe. “She seems to like fake teeth.”
“Too big for her mouth, right?” James swallowed. “Last year, she told me she had them done in L.A. in the same clinic as her favorite celebrity.”
“Anne Hathaway? That girl has a lot of teeth.”
“No idea,” said James but couldn’t hold back a smile. He buttoned up the shirt and reached for the boxer briefs, suddenly stopping with the underwear in the air. Was he supposed to slip it on under the towel as if he were on a beach, or just let the towel fall down and show Mike the ass he worked for at the gym?
Mike saved him the trouble.
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