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  Mitchell was beautiful, no matter the situation, and Craig fought his body’s reaction to being so close to him.

  The fear of losing Mitchell coursed through him. He had to figure out how to tell his best friend how he really felt. He’d almost worked up enough courage last night. But then the damn pizza delivery driver arrived, and Mitchell had downed several beers in quick succession, which meant talking to him would have been fruitless.

  That hadn’t been the only reason that kept Craig from bringing up his feelings, though. His confidence had faltered when Mitchell mentioned causing issues with Craig’s love life, but that wasn’t going to be a problem anymore. Craig was more assured than ever that he could convince Mitchell they should be together, and he was going to talk to him that day no matter what happened. Especially after what he’d learned in the middle of the night.

  Sleep had been difficult, but when he woke to Mitchell talking, he’d sat up in bed, sure he’d heard his name.

  “What? You okay?” he’d whispered.

  Mitchell had only snorted in his sleep and shifted in his bed so Craig had lain back down, feeling the pull of sleep.

  “Craig.”

  That time he was sure he’d heard it. He turned toward Mitchell’s bed. The small slice of moonlight filtering in between the drapes lit Mitchell up just enough for Craig to make out his features.

  “Craig,” Mitchell had murmured again.

  The soft way Mitchell had spoken his name sent a shiver through Craig, and he’d lain awake for at least an hour wondering what it meant. Mitchell had mumbled a lot more during that time, but never said Craig’s name again. It didn’t matter, though. The fact that Mitchell was whispering his name in his sleep gave Craig hope that his friend might feel the same way and was keeping it secret, just as he did.

  He’d been grinning since he’d woken up. He was going to broach the subject of Mitchell going to California with him again as soon as he found the right time. A small groan had him turning his attention back to Mitchell, and he chuckled at the sight.

  Mitchell had one hand shielding his eyes, while the other rubbed his temple. He looked miserable.

  “Hey.” Craig stopped him with a touch of his hand to Mitchell’s arm. “We don’t have to go up. We can skip it and head out to Osage Beach now.”

  “No. I want to see it,” Mitchell insisted. “I’ll be fine.” His phone pinged and he pulled it out of his pocket and swiped to read the message.

  Mitchell frowned and slid the phone back into his pocket.

  “Everything okay?”

  Mitchell nodded. “Just Adam messing with me.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “He asked when we’d be in Osage Beach and hoped I was ready to party. He’s just goofing around I guess. I didn’t answer him.”

  “That’s weird.”

  “I know, right?” Mitchell ran his fingers through his hair and Craig bit back a moan. The way he moved was so sexy.

  Sometimes Craig wondered what would happen if he just pulled Mitchell into his arms and kissed him. No words. Just showed him how he felt. Would Mitchell punch him? He hadn’t yesterday, but they were putting on a show then. And he hadn’t in the hotel room the other night, but Mitchell thought that was just playing around. Craig didn’t have an excuse today. Other than he loved him and wanted Mitchell in his arms.

  They entered the Arch and spent some time exploring the Museum of Westward Expansion. It was hard to believe that these people who traveled to the Wild West used such primitive tools. The wagons were large, but bulky and rough and looked incredibly uncomfortable.

  “This makes me feel like a wuss,” Craig admitted, sweeping his arm out at the displays surrounding them. “I don’t even like to be away from my phone for more than a few hours. These people crossed rough terrain, didn’t have contact with family or friends for years, and had to kill their own food!”

  Mitchell chuckled. “Yeah, you wouldn’t have lasted a day back then.”

  “Hey, neither would you,” Craig shot back.

  Mitchell only chuckled again and the sound shot straight to Craig’s dick. Fuck, he needed to get a grip.

  They purchased their tickets and got in line to ride the small white elevator capsules that would take them up to the top. The elevators were farther underground, so they first had to descend quite a few stairs. Craig stood close behind Mitchell and fought the desire to lean down and sniff his hair. Hell, he wanted to run his fingers through the silky layers and wrap his arms around Mitchell, pulling him to his chest. Sometimes Craig ached with the need to touch Mitchell.

  The stairway was narrow, and they were among a large group of people, so they were all very close to begin with. Craig was on a step just above, so when Mitchell backed up a little his shoulder bumped into Craig’s stomach and the quick touch sent feather-like tingles over his skin.

  He expected Mitchell to move forward a little, but instead, he leaned back, just enough that they were still touching. His shoulder and part of his back pressed against Craig’s belly.

  Fuck, his body was going haywire. He leaned down to whisper in Mitchell’s ear. “You doing okay?” Craig bit back a smile when Mitchell shivered and leaned back harder.

  “Yeah. Just… hungover,” he said, his voice cracking.

  The line moved forward and this time they ended up on the same step, bodies still pressed together. If there hadn’t been so many others around, Craig would have taken a moment to revel in the forced intimacy because he knew it wouldn’t last. At least not here.

  The line moved again, and this time they ended up standing in front of a capsule, waiting for the doors to slide open. When they did, Craig and Mitchell climbed into the round object and sat on the small round stools attached to the walls. There were five seats total and three others followed them inside: two elderly women and a younger guy—probably the same age as Craig and Mitchell—with bright red hair and a beard to match.

  Soon the elevator began moving up, clicking and tilting, clicking and tilting. It was an odd feeling as they traveled to the top. Mitchell was leaning back with his eyes closed, one arm across his stomach, and Craig hoped he wasn’t going to vomit.

  His attention fell on the redheaded stranger, and his belly twisted when he saw the way the guy was checking out Mitchell. His interest was blatant, and he winked at Craig when he caught Craig looking.

  “Your cute friend doesn’t look like he’s doing too good,” the stranger said.

  Mitchell’s eyes flew open at that, and he gaped at the guy before turning to Craig.

  Something surged in Craig, and he slung his arm around Mitchell’s neck, pulling him close. “He’s okay,” he said, his jaw tense.

  The guy got the message and nodded, before turning to the elderly women and asking them about their day.

  “What are you doing?” Mitchell whispered, but his voice echoed in the small capsule.

  Craig leaned down, his lips almost brushing against Mitchell’s ear. “I was saving you from that guy.”

  Mitchell turned to look at him, his eyes wide. “You mean the cute guy?”

  Craig broke out in a cold sweat. “Cute?” His stomach felt like he’d been punched and he pulled his arm away from his friend.

  They didn’t say another word until they finally reached the top and all five people climbed out. It felt good to breathe some fresh air. Well, fresher than the elevator, anyway.

  The top of the Arch was like a wide carpeted hallway with windows on either side. There were ledges in front of the windows so people could lean on them and look down. Craig found an empty spot and motioned to it.

  As they walked, the Arch swayed a little and Mitchell grabbed Craig’s waist. Instead of letting him pull away, Craig just put his arm around his friend and guided him through, then let him go so he could lean in toward the window. Mitchell let his head fall forward, his forehead on the ledge, but Craig looked down.

  The view was amazing. He could see Busch Stadium and wondered if there
was a baseball game that afternoon. When he turned around, he could see the Mississippi River.

  “I’m sorry I was rude.”

  Craig turned, surprised. “What do you mean?”

  “What I said about that guy. I was just… feeling irritated, I guess.” Mitchell shrugged and a soft blush covered his cheeks. “He wasn’t that cute.” His gaze flicked around the small area.

  Craig couldn’t help himself. He moved to stand in front of his friend and cupped his cheeks, feeling the soft stubble under his fingers. “You have nothing to apologize for. I shouldn’t have done that. I guess… I was feeling protective. And jealous.”

  Mitchell’s blush deepened and he licked his lips, his gaze falling to Craig’s mouth.

  Craig swallowed hard when he realized what he was about to do. If he was ever lucky enough to kiss Mitchell again, it wasn’t going to be in front of a bunch of strangers. He let his hands fall away, but they itched to touch him again.

  “If you really do think that guy was cute….” Craig realized he wasn’t sure what he was trying to say. He didn’t want to tell him to go for it.

  Mitchell reached out, grasped his arm, and squeezed. “I don’t.” He smiled. “Besides, I have my eye on someone else,” he added with a wink.

  Craig’s heart stuttered in his chest, and he hoped against hope he was the one that Mitchell wanted. Tendrils of desire wound through him and they stared at each other wordlessly.

  Until a small boy bumped into them, and they both shook themselves from their stupor.

  Craig grinned. “Come on. Let’s finish checking this place out, and then we’ve got about a three-hour car ride.”

  “Ugh, don’t remind me.” Mitchell glanced out the window before he turned back to Craig. “They call St. Louis the Gateway to the West. Do you think it’s about halfway through the country?”

  Craig shrugged, not really sure. “We could check it out on Google.” But the thought hit him that in less than two weeks, they’d each be traveling to opposite sides of the country. Out of reach. It was too sobering to think about, so he turned his attention back to the windows—and tried hard not to look toward the east. If he had his way, Mitchell would be moving west with him.

  They spent about another half hour there before packing into one of the small capsules and traveling back to ground level. For some reason, going down was much worse than riding up, and Craig was grateful when the doors opened and he could get the hell out.

  Chapter Eight

  Mitch

  MITCH WAS thrilled when Craig said he wanted to drive, because he was dealing with a damn high school marching band in his head. Not to mention he was also reeling from all that had happened that morning. He couldn’t believe he’d told Craig he was interested in someone. Now what was he going to do when Craig asked?

  “Oh, it’s you. I’ve been in love with you for years.”

  Right. That wasn’t going to happen.

  “We’re going to be driving awhile. Why don’t you try and sleep?” Craig suggested as he plugged his phone in and pulled up a playlist. “Walk the Moon” started playing through the speakers.

  “You’re not going to get an argument from me,” Mitchell admitted as he settled in, leaned the seat back, and closed his eyes. His phone pinged, but he ignored it, choosing to sleep.

  When the car stopped, his eyes fluttered open to find they’d pulled up at a station.

  “Need gas,” Craig said. “Want anything from inside?”

  Mitchell rubbed his eyes. “Yeah, but I’ll get the gas first. You drove. It’s only fair,” he pointed out when Craig started to protest.

  He hopped out of the car and ran his card through the gas pump. There was still about half a tank, so it didn’t take too long to fill up. He passed Craig on his way in.

  “Grabbed a couple of drinks and some Twinkies,” Craig said, showing him the plastic bag.

  “Yum. I’m going to get some beef jerky and I’ll be out in a sec.”

  He decided to use the men’s room while he had the chance and was relieved it was cleaner than most gas station bathrooms. When he walked out into the heat, a soda and beef jerky in his hands, Craig had pulled up to the door.

  Mitchell slid in and smiled at the air-conditioning. “Thanks. Damn, when did it get so hot?”

  “Temp has been rising all morning, just like every other day this month. Supposed to be a scorcher later today and tomorrow.”

  “Guess it’s a good thing we’re going to the lake, huh?”

  “Yeah.”

  Mitchell’s phone pinged again and he pulled it from his pocket. He had several messages from Adam.

  When will you guys be in Osage Beach?

  Where should I meet you guys? So excited!

  Did you change your mind?

  Shit. At least let me know if I should head back home.

  What the fuck? He scrolled up and his heart fell to his gut. Shit. He didn’t remember texting Adam at all. It looked like it was around midnight when he’d done it.

  Mitch: Adam help me. I can’t be around him anymore. I’m losing it. I want to tell him how I feel.

  Adam: Then tell him.

  Mitch: I can’t. Join us tomorrow? We’re going to Osage Beach for the day and then to Branson I think. Please????

  Shit. He’d invited Adam on the trip without talking to Craig.

  “What’s wrong?”

  Mitch nearly jumped out of his skin. “Fuck!”

  “Whoa. Sorry,” Craig said carefully.

  “No, you’re fine. It was me. I’m… crap… I’m just going to tell you, okay?”

  “Okaaay,” he drawled out. “What is it?”

  Mitch took a deep breath and let it all out. “Last night, when I was drunk—and I don’t remember doing this, but it’s on my phone—apparently I invited Adam to join us in Osage Beach. That explains his earlier text when I thought he was just goofing around.”

  Craig stayed quiet as one song ended and another began. “Why?” he finally asked quietly.

  “Why did I invite him? I was drunk,” Mitch answered.

  Craig’s jaw twitched, and he kept his eyes on the road. “I know that. But why did you invite him? What did you say to him?”

  Shit. He wants to know what I texted.

  Mitch shrugged, going for nonchalance and knowing he was failing. “Who knows why I did it. Like I said, I was drunk.” He turned to look out the window as they drove in silence. He wasn’t really sure why Craig was so upset anyway or why he’d insisted on it just being the two of them. Yes, they were best friends and it was a way to say goodbye, but didn’t he know Mitch couldn’t say goodbye? That Craig was taking his heart with him when he moved to California?

  Last night, when Craig had asked Mitch to go with him to California, he’d known Craig hadn’t meant it. He was just going to miss their friendship. But Mitch had images of sharing the apartment, their life, together, not as roommates, but as lovers—even husbands someday.

  He had to find a way to let Craig go. And maybe having Adam join them wasn’t the worst idea. Mitch had thought about inviting him anyway.

  “Text him back and tell him we’ll let him know when we get there and where we’ll be.” Craig’s voice was tight. Clipped.

  “Okay. Do you think we’ll stay there tonight? Or head into Branson?” They’d never really talked about it.

  “Guess we’ll see what Adam wants to do.”

  Okay. So Craig was definitely pissed at Mitch. Hell, he was pissed at himself too. He’d fucked up their trip all because he was too chicken shit to admit his feelings. But why was Craig so mad? The idea that Craig might have feelings for Mitch gnawed at him. Maybe their “fooling around” meant more than Craig had said. And if so, why didn’t he just tell Mitch? Because he’s as scared as I am. Maybe he should just tell Craig. His heart hammered in his chest as he thought about that. Maybe he should just face his fear and get it over with.

  “Craig?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Do you
want to know who I’m interested in?” Mitch tried to keep his voice light, but his breathing was a little shaky.

  “No.”

  Well, fuck. Mitch looked out the window as the world passed by and yelled at himself inside his head. This was going to go real bad.

  AFTER WHAT seemed like endless hours of driving in silence, the only sound the music coming from the speakers, they finally arrived in Osage Beach. The roads were long and winding, forests often butting up on both sides for miles. The scenery had been beautiful at times, but Mitch was grumpy and getting hungry again. The silence filling the car was driving him crazy. Mitch pulled out his phone and looked for a restaurant they could stop at and found a bar & grill not far from where they were.

  Craig agreed to stop there, so Mitch shot a quick text to Adam to let them know where to meet.

  Great. I’m really close. Stopped at a shopping center. Be there soon.

  Mitch relayed the message as they pulled into the parking lot at the restaurant. His stomach growled, and he smiled. “Hope this place is good. I’m starving.”

  “Yeah.”

  Okay. They were down to one-word answers, but at least Craig was speaking.

  They made their way inside, found an empty booth, slid into opposite sides. The place was a typical grill; pictures of athletes and various photos of food dishes hung on the wall. Square tables dotted the room, while booths lined the front and side walls. Their booth looked out over the parking lot, so Mitch kept an eye out for Adam and tried to ignore the ripped vinyl he was sitting on. The tear was across the entire seat, so it wasn’t like he could just scoot over.

  “You going to tell me why you invited him?”

  Mitch looked up and froze at the intensity in Craig’s eyes. Heat spread through him as he worked his mouth, trying to get the words out, but the way his friend was looking at him was hot as fuck. There was no way he was mistaking the anger in his eyes, but he saw something else too. Desire. Lust. Heat. Mitch’s belly flipped and his dick plumped up in his shorts, rock-hard in seconds. He couldn’t tear his gaze away. He was frozen.