“Fifteen.”
Fifteen. Alec stared down at the linear scar. The answer opened up a whole new line of questioning he’d been dying to pursue. At that age Dylan had been homeless.
“What happened?” Alec said.
The pause that followed was long, and Alec wondered if Dylan would answer.
“I’d been on the streets for six months when one night I came across a kid about my age,” Dylan said. “The guy he was with was getting really rough, so I stopped to help.”
The final piece of the puzzle slid into place. “Rick.”
So that was how the two men had become friends.
“Yeah. I got the scar in the scuffle, but I managed to give the abusive prick a run for his money,” Dylan said.
Alec knew the answer before he even asked. “Was Rick turning tricks?”
As Alec waited for an answer, somewhere down the street a neighbor honked a car horn. A dog began to bark in answer. Another lazy Sunday morning in Alec’s neighborhood. But nothing about today felt ordinary.
“He was doing what he had to do to survive,” Dylan answered, a defensive thread in his tone. “He showed me a better place to sleep, and I showed him the best places to find food.”
After a brief moment of internal debate, Alec decided he had to ask.
“Did you love him?” Alec said.
The tone of Dylan’s voice changed every time he talked about his dead friend. And a part of Alec hoped there had been some romantic feeling on Dylan’s part, because if he’d loved a man before, that meant there was hope that he and Alec could have more.
And he should not be entertaining such stupid, stupid thoughts.
“No, not like you’re thinking,” Dylan said.
Alec tried not to let his disappointment show. “But you still miss him.”
“Every goddamn day.”
Seconds passed into minutes, until the reality got too much for Alec. He was in bed with a man, had had sex with a man who could never really be more than a fake boyfriend. Escaping suddenly seemed like a necessity.
He went to pull his hand from Dylan’s thigh, but Dylan reached back and trapped Alec’s palm beneath his, accelerating the pulse in his wrist.
“You promised you’d show me how it felt,” Dylan said.
For the first time since they’d started talking, Dylan rolled his head to look up at Alec. The man had a seriously sexy case of bed-head hair, his eyelids still heavy with sleep. But his gaze smoldered with awareness.
“But you passed out before you could follow through,” Dylan went on.
Alec blinked, forcing his mouth to work. “How what felt?”
Dylan arched his back, the base of Alec’s hard cock now pressed tight against the top of Dylan’s naked ass, sending a thrilling jolt up Alec’s spine.
“Christ, Dylan.” The rough words rushed out, unchecked. “Last night was crazy. The tension at the party was epic. You were totally trying to prove Tyler wrong.” Alec rubbed his face. “Not to mention that really awkward moment in the kitchen, and then I had too much to drink. I practically forced you—”
“Screw that,” Dylan said with a scowl, ending Alec’s string of words. “You didn’t force me. And if I wanted to be gone, I would have left.”
“You shouldn’t be sleeping with me.” Alec amended the statement. “I shouldn’t be sleeping with you.”
A lazy eyebrow rose. “Little late to be deciding that now.”
Shouldn’t the man be more disturbed by the events? And did that mean something more? The hope had Alec dropping his forehead to Dylan’s shoulder.
“Shit,” Alec whispered.
Too late summed the situation up perfectly. Too late to take back all he’d done with Dylan—well, perhaps to Dylan was a more appropriate description. Too late to return to a time when Alec thought of Dylan as just a smart-mouthed mechanic instead of a man who’d not only survived the streets but gone on to start a successful business. A man who’d risked his life to defend a complete stranger.
“No sense in pretending you don’t want me,” Dylan said, and Alec could hear the amusement in his voice. “Last night was kind of a giveaway.”
Despite everything, Alec smiled against Dylan’s shoulder. “Which part?” He lifted his head to peer down at Dylan again. “When I attacked you in Noah’s office or when I pinned you to my bed?”
“Yes to both. And then you went on and on about what bottoming felt like. You were rambling.” Crinkles framed his green eyes when he smiled. “You do that sometimes when you’re nervous.”
“Sorry.”
“Don’t be.” He grinned. “I figured out one way to get you to stop, although the kiss kinda caught me by surprise. But, seriously? The blow job blew my mind.” Dylan raised an eyebrow. “You’re really good at that.”
Alec’s throat felt as dry as yesterday’s toast. “As Noah said, a guy’s got to have a hobby.”