Level Hands: Bend or Break, Book 4 by Amy Jo Cousins Read Free Book Online Page B

touched Denny’s. Touched it. Kissed it. Accidentally fell into devouring it. He took a deep breath. Seriously, why does he smell so fucking good? “You wanna help? That’s cool, but don’t count on me always wanting to take you up on it.”
    Denny stared at him, and Rafi waited for him to make a move. Any move. Forward or back.
    No. Not forward. No moving forward. Forward is touching and touching is… I’m gonna burn up like tinder.
    The tiny room was silent except for the hum of the machines and their breathing.
    When Denny leaned toward Rafi, he did it without taking his eyes off him until the last moment. Rafi was thick ice cracking under an immense weight. Except ice was cold and Rafi was on fire.
    He closed his eyes.
    A butterfly kiss. Barely brushing his, leaving Rafi’s lips tingling. The stroke of a tongue against the seam of his mouth. Rafi held still, as if moving would shatter the moment.
    Breathing was overrated anyway.
    Then Denny stepped back and heaved a sigh, running his hands through his hair. “That’ll have to hold me, I guess.”
    “Until?” Rafi couldn’t resist asking.
    “Until you figure things out.” It was Denny’s smile that killed him. Always. The smile that lit up his eyes before quirking his mouth. Rafi had forgotten, had told himself he must be remembering wrong, exactly how weak he was in the face of that smile.
    Denny pursed his lips and blew a stream of air up until his bangs fluttered. “This sucks, though. Just so you know.”
    “Yeah, well, it’s no fucking cakewalk for me either.” Rafi rubbed his close-cropped fade until the heat building under his palm stung. “Be patient, okay? I’ll get there, but you gotta let me get there my own way.”
    Denny grunted.
    Rafi was right there with him.
    Being patient sucked.
    Cash waited, Rafi was almost sure it was on purpose, until everyone had their mouths full of food before asking them, “So, what are you guys? Like, the gay-boy boat?”
    They were sitting around the cardboard box and the overturned crate, plates in their laps, wiping their fingers on their shorts because no one had any napkins or paper towels. Austin snorted and Vincent scowled and Cash looked around the circle of guys like he expected a real answer.
    Where Rafi might have hesitated, Denny felt no such restraint. “Jesus, Cash!”
    “What? Everyone’s out, right? And you’re all on the same team. Just seems like a lot of gay dudes for one sport, unless there’s been a boatload of change since I graduated.” Cash shrugged. “If there’s four out guys on the football team, I’ll eat my shorts.”
    “No, we’re not the gay-boy boat.” Vincent clearly didn’t care for the designation.
    “We kind of are,” Austin said.
    “We don’t always end up in the same boat.”
    “Just most of the time.”
    When they’d returned to the room with the cans of pop, Rafi hadn’t had a chance to think before he was being waved down to a seat on the floor. If he had, he would have tried to sit somewhere that wouldn’t have left room for Denny to plop down next to him, cross-legged, his bony knee pressing against Rafi’s own. Now, while Austin and Vinnie argued, Denny leaned into Rafi and spoke with a low voice in his ear. “Worst. Married. Couple. Ever.”
    Before he had a chance to snort out a laugh, Rafi felt eyes on him and realized he and Denny were catching speculative glances. He sat up straight, face sober. If Vinnie hadn’t meant to imply anything earlier, that state of grace wouldn’t last long with the two of them giggling and huddling together.
    Cash wasn’t done yet either.
    “Is the rest of the team cool with that?” Cash pointed at Rafi, who was still squirming because he hadn’t even been sure Austin and Vinnie were gay. Leave it to Cash to have better gaydar than he did. At least, he assumed Cash’s gaydar was in working order, since no one was denying it. “I’m not leaving my boy here in a rowboat full of assholes and bashers,