Chapter 9: Comfort

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"The fuck?"

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"The fuck?"

Ian stared lamely at the navy blue Audi parked in front of his house and the stupid-looking dumbhead leaning against it, staring at the sun like he's Mr. Big Shot.

"The fuck are you doing? Photosynthesis?" Ian called, gaining the blond's attention.

Bryce took off his sunglasses and watched as Ian's blow-dried hair bounced with every step, his shirt hugging his body in a way that did things to Bryce's manly ego. He was wearing a pair of gray jogger pants beneath the shirt, making him look like a model straight out of a runway event.

The blond gulped when Ian got close enough for him to take a whiff of his cologne. It was the one he always happened to be wearing when they have sex. It smelled good. Ian always smells good.

He looked up to meet Ian's eyes, and saw him staring back with amusement.

"Like what you see?"

"You took your sweet time there," he retorted before circling the car to open the door, gulping as he cleared his throat. "Get in, we have two hours before the goons show up."

"You gotta stop opening stuff for me, I can do it myself."

"Sure, princess."

Ian glared at the nickname and slapped Bryce's biceps before entering the car. Bryce attempted to kick him back but Ian slammed the door shut before he could, sticking his tongue out in victory at the tinted window.

"You're in a good mood," Bryce observed as he slipped into the driver's seat. He was grabbing something from a paper bag when Ian spoke, "You bet I am."

Bryce looked at him for a second and saw Ian's eyes crinkling as he grinned before they disappeared when he turned to put on the seatbelt.

He cleared his throat and made an attempt to sound bored.

"I didn't know what you like so I got you mine," Bryce handed Ian a medium cup of what smells like coffee and looked at him with warning. "Spill it anywhere and I won't hesitate to kick you out of a moving car."

"How thoughtful," Ian sarcastically said but smiled when he realized it was iced white coffee. "This'll do," he shook the cup without securing the lid and laughed when Bryce flinched with unmasked anxiety.

"I will not hesitate-"

He sniffed and realized something. "Why don't I smell any fresheners?"

"I got rid of them."

"Why?"

"Telling me that my freshener is making you wanna throw up in the middle of sex isn't exactly a major turn on, Ian," Bryce finished as he started the engine, body in full driving mode.

Ian watched as Bryce played with the steering wheel, fingers tapping rhythmically along the faint song playing over the radio while his head bobbed up and down unconsciously. His blue eyes carefully surveyed every straight and turns, and Ian caught on his habit of hissing in annoyance when someone breaks a traffic rule, or when it takes too long for the light to turn green for his liking.

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