Carter has a great life. He excels at his job, he’s close to his sister, and he has an amazing best friend. There’s just one teeny-tiny problem: he’s in love with his best friend, who just happens to be his roommate. It doesn’t help that Greg has a habit of sticking as close to Carter as possible.
But Carter has a plan to fix everything. He signed up for a speed-dating event where he’ll talk to a dozen men in one night. If he can meet someone, he can stop worrying about blurting out his feelings to Greg and possibly losing his best friend. It’s a solid plan. Twelve men. He just has to convince his heart.
I left work early on Friday afternoon -- thank goodness the week had gone much smoother than the previous one. No glitches or problems with the new design, although Nelson had been on my last nerve. So I didn’t feel guilty about taking some personal time. I was wound tight and not in the best mindset for work, anyway.
When I got home, I saw Greg’s silver RAV4 sitting in the drive and I felt my anxiety ebb. He would help me get through this. I parked next to his vehicle and sat for a moment, bracing my hands on the steering wheel.
I felt like a teenager going on his first date. My gut felt tight and I’d been riding a wave of apprehension all week. Social situations were not my forte to begin with, but ever since I’d met Greg, I’d grown accustomed to having him by my side wherever I went. In fact, in the past few years, I’d rarely attended a function without Greg. He was my rock. Always able to put me at ease while ensuring I was part of the conversation.
A part of me wished Greg could go with me, which I realized was ridiculous. Inviting the man you’re trying to get over to an event where you’re supposed to meet other men was not the smartest idea. I laughed at myself and headed inside. It was time to get ready. Sure I had a few hours, but I would need all that time to decide on what to wear and figure out how to keep myself from throwing up. Fun times.
Greg was stretched out on the sofa, on his back with one arm thrown over his eyes, his legs crossed at the ankles. His red T-shirt had ridden up a little, showing a bit of skin and red hair disappearing into his waistband and the edge of the shamrock tattoo on his side. He was wearing the dark gray joggers I loved because they hugged his ass perfectly. But seriously, Greg’s ass looked pretty perfect in everything. Jeans. Shorts. Swim trunks. God, his black swim trunks. He looked good in any angle in those. Nope. Not going to think about that.
Not wanting to wake him, I made my way down the hall as quietly as possible, set my laptop bag near my nightstand, and sat on the bed. I fell back and rubbed my hands over my face. Why was I doing this again? I could just spend the night at home with Greg. We could curl up on the sofa and watch a movie. Maybe order some food in, rather than making anything. I’d been craving Szechuan.
“Uh, what are you doing Carter?”
I flew up so I was sitting again and glared at Greg. “Shit! I didn’t hear you come down the hall. Maybe warn a guy, huh?”
He leaned against the doorjamb and quirked an eyebrow. “You do know I live here, right?”
