It’s just after three in the morning as me and Weston are getting back to his place. The club was insane. Way fucking different from Lubbock nightlife. As tired as I am, I’m happy we went out. I feel like a piece of me was reignited tonight that I’d lost over the years.

My early twenties were jam-packed with school and more school. Deciding to get my PhD was a huge decision. One I’ve never regretted, but it took up a lot of my time. I fell into an easy routine of school and home life, and then when I finally graduated and got my professor job, I jumped straight from a school, home balance to a work, home balance, never giving myself much time to enjoy myself.

Tonight helped remind me what it’s like to have genuine fun. Hanging out with Kingston, Weston, and his… whatever the fuck Enzo is to him… was exactly what I needed. To get carelessly drunk with an old friend and not worry about a goddamn thing. I need to allow myself to do that more often.

Weston raced to his room as soon as we got home. We’re both tired as shit, and he has to get up pretty early for a meeting that he wasn’t able to reschedule until after I leave, so he wanted to try to get some shut-eye while he could. I, on the other hand, opted to take a hot ass shower, rinsing all the sweat off my body.

There’s not much else better than a scalding shower right before bed. Plus, the shower in Weston’s guest bathroom is nice as fuck. It has glass doors, dark gray ceramic tiles on the walls, and the shower head comes from the ceiling, mimicking rainfall. If this is what the guest bathroom looks like, I can’t even imagine what his en suite looks like.

He’s doing pretty well for himself.

After I get out of the shower, I tug on some black briefs, towel drying my hair, while grabbing my phone off the nightstand to send a quick goodnight text to Stone. A grin so big it makes my cheeks hurt slides onto my face when I see a message from him already waiting for me. It came in about five minutes ago. Hmm… didn’t think he’d still be awake. Instead of texting him back, I hit the FaceTime button, preferring to see his face.

It only rings a few times before it connects, showing me his sleepy, smiling face and bare-naked chest. He’s lying in his bed, and it looks like only his bedside lamp is on.

“Hey, Cash. Thought you might’ve been asleep.” His deep, gruff voice sends a shiver through me. I wonder if my body will ever not be so responsive to every single thing he does.