Our parents didn’t even know.
Why I hadn’t told anyone, I didn’t have a clue. I knew they would support me, but every time I went to open my mouth to inform them I liked dick, I felt it wasn’t the right moment. Instead, time passed, and I kept my mouth shut. In the end, they moved without the knowledge, and I shifted into my brother’s home. My brother, who was the straightest guy I knew. I wasn’t even sure about his stance on gay people, which was another reason I hadn’t said anything.
I couldn’t exactly say, “Ah, hey, bro, what do you think about guys getting it on?” No matter how I said it, I knew it would come out wrong, then I would freak out if I thought he was going to be disgusted.
Now, I had to go into his house full of his friends, who I hadn’t met before, and pray I didn’t check any of them out too long. Sighing, I closed my eyes and rested my head against the front door. Already I could hear the voices of Zion and his friends. They had music playing in the background, but what it was, I didn’t have a clue.
Straightening, I brushed my hands down my NASA tee and then reached out to the handle. Before I could grab hold, the door got swept open, and I stumbled forward so hard my head collided with a crotch. As I landed on my hands and knees, my head slipped down further and rested against someone’s muscled thighs.
The only problem with Zion’s house was the open-floor living.
Laughter filled the area.
“Brothers, I’d like you to meet my younger, and clumsy, brother, Lucas.”
A hand under my arm helped me. Actually, it practically lifted me on its own to my feet. “You okay, kid?” the large man asked.
“Yes,” I squeaked. I cleared my throat and punched my chest, then lowered my voice. “Ah, yeah, I’m good.”
The man smiled. His perfect white teeth between his trimmed beard captured my attention. He seemed in his mid-forties, but he looked good for it. His salt-and-pepper hair was styled back in a ponytail. He nodded. “Good. Sorry about the abrupt open. Thought you were some crazy fucker staking out the joint or the pizza guy.”
I nodded. And kept nodding since I didn’t know what to say.
“Name’s Death.” He held his tattooed hand out that was attached to his tattooed arm. I noticed his other arm was also inked.
Nervously, I licked my lips and stared at the large appendage—meaning his hand—that was still outstretched toward me. His name sounded like he would use his hands to kill people. I was too young and small, well, compared to him, and nice to die. Still, even when my hand shook, I pushed it forward and gripped his. “Lucas,” I said.
Death snorted. “Already heard.”
I wanted to slap my forehead. “Yeah, right.” I forced a laugh.
Using my hand, he pulled me further into the room, then he dropped his hold and pointed to another huge guy. “That’s Quake, Torch, and the prospect. He doesn’t get a club name until he’s a full member.” I nodded to them all. Quake was a solid man, heck, all of them were, but he was the biggest. His hair was blond and messy, and it went perfectly with his sea-blue eyes. Torch had a buzz cut and a cold look in his eyes where I worried if I looked too long, I would ask for forgiveness even when I hadn’t done anything. The prospect was the youngest. Where I was twenty-two, he seemed to be in his early twenties also, but it was hard to determine just what his age actually was.
The front door opened abruptly behind me. I bit my bottom lip to keep in the scream. But that didn’t stop me from jumping and stumbling as I turned, and if it wasn’t for Death’s hand wrapping around my arm, I would have met the floor once more that night.
However, when I looked up, I realized there was still a possibility of dropping to the floor. The most gorgeous man I had ever seen stood just inside the doorway, scanning the room. If it wasn’t for his hands fisted at his sides and the scowl on his face, I may have fallen to the floor in awe of his beauty.
I took another quick glance around the room and noticed my brother did, in fact, have some good-looking friends. All of them could be on the cover of a magazine. I wasn’t sure what it was about the scowling man that set me off in a sweating, peeing-my-pants, “holy crap he’s looking at me” moment with my pulse racing, but he did. His dark brown hair was shaved at the sides, and the top was longish and messy, some of it flopped in his dark green eyes. He would probably punch me if I tried to push his hair back though. He was tall, my short frame only reaching his shoulders. His tight black tee showed off the muscles in his arms, and his dark ripped jeans surrounded thick thighs.
I jolted and pulled my gaze up quickly when Death said, “Wreck, you took forever, fucker. Get in here and meet Saint’s brother, Lucas.”
Saint?
Who was Saint?
I wasn’t a brother of Saint.
“Lucas, I’m Saint. It’s my club name,” Zion called; he must have seen the confused look on my face.
Nodding, I glanced back to Wreck and did a lame wave before I grabbed my own arm with my other hand. “Ah, s’up.”
S’up?
Was I a gangster now?
“I mean, hi.”
He lifted his chin, and out of his mouth came a gravelly, “Hey.” He looked at Death. “Pizza guy just pulled up.” Then he walked by us and aimed for the kitchen.
I wanted to follow like a stray kitten. He could take me in, pat me, love me…. Dear God, I’d finally lost it over a good-looking straight guy.
A slap to my back had me clamping my lips together and
