Loving Jay by Renae Kaye Read Free Book Online Page A

huffed and turned around to face the front. I saw Dale reach over and pat her thigh. “Liam, all Candice is saying is that if you are gay, you don’t need to hide it from us. We love you. We just want you to know you can bring anyone home with you and none of us will judge.”
    I scoffed. “Yeah, right. Can’t you just see Dad’s reaction?”
    “Forget about Dad for a minute. If you want to bring a boyfriend, then do it. We will all love for you to bring whoever it is who is special to you.”
    I swallowed and snarked at him, “So you all would be fine if I brought some guy home with a pink shirt, bleached hair, heels, and makeup? I don’t think so, Dale. If I brought home someone like that, you would all be in hysterics.”
    Dale looked at me through the rearview mirror. He wasn’t laughing. “So does he?”
    “Does he what?”
    “Wear pink shirts, heels, and makeup?” Shit!
    “No.” Not the heels anyway. I don’t think. “Besides, this is all theoretical. I’m not gay and I don’t have a boyfriend.” We were approaching my apartment block. Dale pulled over. I opened the door and quickly exited the car to make my escape. He pressed a button and his window shot down.
    “Liam?”
    “Yeah?” I paused on the pedestrian island in the center of the street. I was anxious to get away and hide myself in my apartment. This had truly been a shit-awful day.
    “Candice and I would love to meet him one day. Just say the word and we can meet for dinner—just the four of us. No one else has to know. Love ya, bro.”
    I stood motionless on the island, not even noticing as he pulled out and drove away. I was too busy visualizing the four of us—Dale, Candice, Jay, and me—having dinner together. Unfortunately, it was too easy to see. Shit!

Chapter 4

    A FTER TWO weeks of ordering Jay’s girly mocha drinks and another endless weekend of missing him, I actually found myself looking forward to placing our coffee order on Monday morning. I found out that Jay took a connecting bus from one suburb over and it only left him with a few minutes to get our coffees and make the train, so I offered to pick them up every morning instead of taking turns. Jay beamed at me and handed over twenty bucks for his share. I smiled and handed it back. He tried to tuck it into my backpack, but I deftly held it out of his reach so he couldn’t get to it. He begged me to take it. I refused. He pouted at me. I laughed at him.
    In the end Jay won that fight. As we moved off the train in the small crowd of people, he tucked the note in the back pocket of my dress pants, giving it—and my arse—a little pat. Bastard!
    I glared at him and he smirked, then waved happily and tripped up the stairs where I couldn’t follow.
    But I still brought his mocha the next morning. I was becoming addicted to the sounds he made when I placed the drink in his hand. His initial relief at receiving the cup would be expressed with a “Oh, yes, thank you!” or a “Gawd, I need this!” He would moan his way through the first mouthful and end with a loud “Ahh. That’s good!” and then punctuate the next few mouthfuls with “Oh, delicious!” or “Heavenly!” or even “That feels so good!”
    It was a wonderful torture—extremely erotic in an environment where I could do absolutely nothing about my arousal. I was looking forward to the next installment.
    I waved as I finally spotted him coming down the stairs, motioned to his cup on the seat next to me, and waited for my morning provocation.
    “Liam! Oh, boy! I have been waiting for this all morning!” He picked up the cup and excitedly sighed with a mouth full of hot mocha.
    Down boy! “Jay, you dick. How can you have been waiting for it all morning? It’s barely twenty past five. How long could you have been up for?”
    He looked at me and fluttered his eyelashes in my direction—eyelashes that I noticed were wearing a layer of blue sparkle. “Do you think that this type of perfection comes