I’ve never acted on it. Never had it come on so strongly that I wanted to act on it, but with St. Clare, knowing that he’s available and would potentially want that is giving me thoughts I’ve never thought before.

The last time I had this reaction to someone, it was one of the dads at a kid’s birthday party I was working. He snuck away for a joint, and when I stumbled upon him, we shared that joint between us, him holding it to his lips and then to mine, progressively standing closer and closer before he cuffed me on the shoulder of my Trolls costume and disappeared back into the house.

He gave off asshole vibes. We didn’t speak a word. I was able to shake off the burning lust easily and get on with my day like nothing had happened.

But I don’t even smoke weed—my mom would have killed me—just like I don’t usually get all tongue-tied around men and draw smiley faces on their cups.

I’d thought St. Clare was going to kiss me and moved closer.

I’d thought he was going to kiss me, and now I’m disappointed that he didn’t.

Huh.

Maybe this whole thing is supposed to be my journey of self-discovery. Forget the madmen with guns—myself included—all these events were purely meant to bring me and St. Clare together. The universe is a wild and wonderful thing.

At this point, I need a silver lining, and I’m clinging to it.

The sound of the shower reaches me from down the hall, and I’m struck by a sudden thought.

St. Clare is naked.

Totally naked.

Not very far away.

He fills out those suits, and his shoulder felt nice under my hand earlier, so I can’t stop my thoughts from straying to how muscular he is. I’m a big guy, mostly due to my natural state of desperate survival and fast metabolism, but his muscles are different. Gym built, I’d say. Nothing like Lars, but as I sit there, filling in the blanks and trying to remember what his body looked like the night we met, my cock gives a little tug of impatience.

I’ve been hard since he was sitting next to me, and I wonder if he was the same. I wonder if he’s in the shower right now, water streaming over his front, hand wrapped around his dick.

I groan and press down on my groin. No matter how flirty and good-looking he is, I can resist this. It’s not hard. I do it a lot.