Chapter 25

Blake and I step through the doors of Francisco's, and I can feel an envious hush fall over the tables surrounding us. Blake is a good-looking dude and so am I. The pair of us together, though? It's almost too much hotness to handle.

Ha.

I can't contain the smug grin slipping onto my lips watching multiple men eye me up and down. A few months ago, if a dude had eyed me like this, I would have been inclined to punch him in the face. Hard. Now, in the safety of the bar's walls, it doesn't bother me one bit.

In fact, it's flattering.

Blake seems to notice the unrelenting attention, and his hold tightens around my waist. He leans down to my ear, whispering close enough for his lips to brush against my earlobe.

"You seem to have the floor, Callum. All eyes are on you."

He presses a soft kiss to my temple and guides us to the bar. Every chair but one is filled, and Blake urges me to take a seat. He stands behind me and leans forward, attempting to gain a bartender's attention to order a drink.

"Callum? Callum!"

The deep voice cuts through all the other noise. Cade pushes past the other bartenders, so distracted by my arrival that he bumps into one of his co-workers. A newly made drink splashes onto the bartender's shirt and spills onto the floor. He curses under his breath, studying the damage down his now-soaked shirt. Cade stops just long enough to pat his shoulder and whisper an apology before continuing forward.

His attire is as formal as ever – black dress pants and a white dress shirt finely pressed. His hair style has changed a bit since the last time I saw him. One side is buzzed with an intricate design, and the rest of the hair is brushed to the side. It gives him an edgier look, a great contrast to his softer facial features.

He's hot. Really hot.

His light eyes never break away from mine, and the excitement in their depths confirm all my growing suspicions over the past few weeks. He has feelings for me. My stomach tightens when Cade leans across the bar to pull me into his arms. It's an awkward hug, both of us reaching across a large, marble countertop to get to the other. But it's worth it.

"Fuck, it's good to see you," Cade says against my cheek.

He hugs me tighter. Blake's warm fingers curl around my hip, a silent statement that the hug has gone on long enough. I reluctantly maneuver out of Cade's embrace, the feel of his fingertips still lingering across my shoulders. Cade glances beside me, and his smile lessens when he notices my choice of company.

"And hello to you too," he says through a forced smile. "Blake, was it?"

Blake narrows his eyes. "In the flesh."

"Ah. Well, I'm sure the bar is glad to have your business again."

I suck my cheek into my mouth and bite down to keep from laughing. Cade is such a shit, and the polite insult isn't lost on my boss. Blake raises his chin and leans forward.

"Speaking of which, we'd like to order a few drinks. I'll take a martini. Dry. And my date would like a Jack and Coke."

Cade's smile vanishes. The self-assured victory response turns the tables once again. Cade backs up a step and studies the two of us. His eyes linger on Blake's arm which is now casually draped around my shoulders. Half of me wants to shove it off and punch him in the jaw. The other half wants him to pull me closer.

Confusion, hurt, and disappointment phase in and out of Cade's expression, but none of them stick. Instead he sets his lips in a challenging smile and gives a good-natured nod of consent.

"Coming right up."

Cade spins on his heels, grabbing a martini glass from the rack above his head to get started with our order. While he works, he doesn't glance back at me a single time. I do notice the occasional tick of his jaw, though, and the sporadic flare of his nostrils.

It bothers me seeing him upset, and I turn to Blake. His chiseled jaw is set with defiance, his eyes following Cade's movements with an angry gleam.

"Was that necessary?" I whisper.

"Yes."

He doesn't feign innocence, which I commend him for. He knows exactly what he's doing with Cade, and he isn't sorry for it. For the first time in my life, I am the middle person in between two men having a pissing match to claim their trophy.

Normally I'm the one talking shit and puffing out my chest until I win over the 'prize' at hand. In this case? I am the bargaining chip. The realization is as infuriating as it is flattering.

"Why?" I find myself asking after a beat of heated silence.

Blake's eyes devour me. He gives a droll stare and then turns his focus back to Cade who is pouring an extra shot of Jack Daniels into my glass.

"To let him know he's going to have to try a lot harder," he answers. "He's got some competition."

My heart hammers in my chest at the pseudo-confession. Does he – could he – possibly have feelings for me?

I lick my lips and try to hide the hopefulness in my voice. "Competition for what - ?"

The wind deflates from my sails when Cade sets our drinks in front of us, cutting off my window of opportunity. He slides the martini in front of Blake and the Jack and Coke in front of me. A third glass, however, is lifted into the air in the proposal of a toast.

Blake smirks and raises his glass. He and Cade lock eyes, and I raise my glass with hesitant fingers, not knowing what else to do. They stare each other down, silently daring one to make the first move so the other can have the last word.

Cade breaks the silence.

"To Callum," he shouts above the chatter.

"To Callum," Blake repeats and his smirk darkens as he raises the glass to his lips. "And may the better man win."

________________

Spots of muted sunlight pinch the edges of my vision, pulling me from Sandman's enticing embrace. My head pounds from way too much alcohol still dredging through my system. I pry my eyes open and glance around the empty hotel bedroom, assessing my surroundings.

My eyes open wider when I realize I'm in the master bedroom. In the master bed. I gingerly lift the covers. Clothes still intact. The master bathroom's door is cracked open. Steam trickles out of it, the sound of Blake's low hum trapped behind the door.

He strides out of the bathroom a moment later. One towel is wrapped around his lean waist, while another ruffles through the strands of his wet hair. Oh hell. A single drop of water cascades down the chiseled planes of his stomach and my mouth waters. Blake catches me staring at him and grins.

"Morning."

"Mmmm," I mumble.

"How are you feeling?"

I grimace and Blake chuckles. He moves over to the drawer and pulls out a clean pair of boxers and a white undershirt. He tosses his hair towel right inside the bathroom door. The other he lets fall away from his waist, his backside completely nude and glistening with the last remnants of water.

My jaw drops. His ass...

It's fucking perfect. It's round and sculpted, the epitome of sexy with an undercurrent of athletic tone. I suck in a breath watching Blake bend down to slide his boxers over legs before adjusting them into place. The beautiful sight becomes hidden, but the memory of it is one that'll be burned in my mind for many weeks to come.

I adjust the covers, trying to hide the boner now creating a tent with the thin sheet.

"Wh-what happened last night?" I ask with a raspy voice.

Blake tosses on his shirt and moves to the closet next to retrieve a pair of pants.

"A lot of drinking," he says and I can hear the smile in his voice. "Mostly on your end."

I scratch at the back of my neck. The last thing I remember was Cade bringing us drinks and calling a toast in my honor. The remainder of the night is just a hazy blur of drunken laughs and feeling emotionally tugged between Blake and Cade.

"We didn't...."

My voice trails off.

Blake grabs a red dress shirt off a hanger and turns to face me. He shakes his head, almost amused.

"No," he answers without having to hear the rest of it. "We didn't have sex. Aside from the few kisses you begged me for after we got back to the hotel, nothing else happened."

My cheeks are scalding with heat. "Ah, I see. Well, thanks for letting me crash in bed. I would have just slept on the couch if you wanted me to."

Blake straightens out the sleeves of his dress shirt, buttoning the wrist of the left, then moving to button the wrist of the right. His jaw tightens but he chooses to remain quiet after this comment. He simply nods and tucks in his shirt.

"Did Cade get home alright?" I ask.

I know I should just text Cade and ask him myself, but my curiosity gets the better of me. The night is nothing more than a blank canvas, and I am trying to piece as much as I can back together from Blake's minimal words and body language.

"I made sure he got a cab home," he says.

"Thank you."

Blake leans against the closet and stares at me. The heat of his gaze isn't just sexual this time. There's a trace of something else, and whatever it is has my stomach fluttering with anticipation.

"I've told you before that I'm a patient man," Blake says and his voice drops to a tentative murmur. "I saw last night that I'm not the only man who has your attention."

My eyes widen at this sudden shift of emotional intimacy. I open my mouth to counter his statement and Blake shakes his head to stop me.

"It's my own damn fault," he admits. "I kept far more distance from you than I should have. That's on me, Callum. Not you. So do whatever it is you need to do. But know that sooner rather than later I'll be asking for a decision."

"A decision?"

Blake swallows and glances away from me. "You asked me last night what type of a competition existed between Cade and myself. At first it was just sexual. It's no secret you're a hot piece of ass, Callum. And the two of us would be fooling ourselves if we didn't admit we want it."

My ass cheeks clench picturing what it would feel like having either one inside me. It's not something I've ever experienced – or wanted, for that matter – and the way Blake talks about it makes it seem as normal as breathing.

Blake licks his lips and continues. "After seeing how Cade acted with you last night though, I realize it's more than just that. For both of us."

My heart swells at the confession. Blake grabs his jacket and clears his throat, unable to make eye contact with me again.

"I will do my best to keep my jealousy at bay, for a little while anyway. For you, Callum. Because at the end of the day, your happiness is what the both of us want."

Then he pauses and glances at me from under a possessive gaze and reddening cheeks. "But I'm only human, Callum. At the end of the day I'm still a man, desperately waiting to claim what I feel is rightfully mine."

"Wh-what are you trying to say?"

Blake chuckles. It's a dark and gritty sound, one that sends a lustful tremor over my entire body. "Don't test my patience."