“Can you put that on your schedule tonight in San Francisco? Say, around seven, when we’re back in the city?”

  “I can, and I will. You also deserve Bugatti blow jobs and sex that’s better than cake, and you deserve to have your body worshipped by my tongue,” I say, and he lets out a low growl of appreciation. I squeeze his hand harder. “And to go to Santa Fe and check out immersive art, and to meet me for coffee and London Fog lattes, but consider yourself warned that you’re going to be subjected to a lot of PDA from your boyfriend when we’re out in public. But I will also make you a big, fat promise, Owen Hayes.”

  “Have at it.”

  I tear my gaze from the road for a second. “I will never kiss you with garlic breath.”

  “Ah,” he says, affecting a broken sigh, like he’s choking up. “That’s the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me.”

  “Get ready. There’s a lot more where that came from. I don’t just have a big dick. I have a big heart. And you get both.”

  “Bring them on,” Owen says.

  “Speaking of, I might have to revise my Big Dick Law too.”

  “The one where the bigger the dick, the bigger the dick?” he asks, proving once again that he knows me so well.

  “That’s the one.”

  Owen scoffs, grabs his crotch. “River Michaels, I am going to make you eat those words every single day.”

  I groan appreciatively. “You better.”

  My boyfriend and I chat the rest of the way to my sister’s house, enjoying every second of this brand-new pact.

  The one he says we should call the boyfriend pact.

  I’m so glad he took the chance with me.

  25

  Owen

  Delilah slathers River in kisses, whimpering endlessly, jumping up into his arms on the front porch.

  “Someone got spoiled by her aunt, but someone still likes you best,” Echo says to her brother.

  “She knows who gives her gourmet biscuits,” he says, then stands, petting and scratching the dog as he circles his hand around my arm. “By the way, we’re a thing.”

  Echo arches a brow. “Excuse me?”

  “Owen and I,” he says, like it’s patently obvious. Maybe it is. “We’re together now.”

  She shakes her head, like she’s processing this news. “You two?”

  “Well, what other Owen would I be talking about?”

  She points at me, then him. “You’re together? You’ve been friends for eight years, and now you’re together after one weekend?”

  I shrug, give her a smile. “Snow. What can you do?”

  River drapes an arm around me, then smacks his lips to my cheek. “Exactly. One road trip, one snowfall, and one cabin equals two very happy guys.”

  Echo shimmies her shoulders, then lets out an epic squeal. She throws her arms around the two of us. Even though I’m not a hugger, I’ll happily take this one.

  When she lets go, she says, “I was hoping you’d both see what was right in front of you.”

  Once we’re back in the car, River doesn’t start the engine straight away. He turns around and sweet talks his dog for a few minutes as Delilah wags her tail, her tongue lolling from her mouth.

  When he’s done lavishing attention on his dog wife, he turns to me. “You get the appeal of Paul Rudd now, don’t you?”

  “I never didn’t. But I also get the appeal of Clueless. Sometimes the person you’re looking for has been in front of you all along,” I say, meeting his gaze.

  River shrugs helplessly in surrender. “That’s it. You’re getting kissed senseless right now.”

  He makes good on that promise for a hot, delirious minute, then turns the engine, and we cruise onto the highway to the city. Along the way, we tackle an important topic—safe sex. We’re both negative for everything, so we decide to ditch the condoms. Hallelujah. When River pulls up in front of my place, parking at the curb, he lets out a deep sigh. “So, cutie. Here’s the thing.”

  I groan. “Nothing good ever came of the words here’s the thing.”

  “Hello! Boyfriend pact. Have a little faith.”

  River makes a good point. I should have faith. I will have faith. “What’s the thing?”

  River leans in close to me. “I know we just spent forty-eight hours together, but I kind of want to see you tonight too. And not just for the whole come again thing. I want to spend the night with you.”

  My chest flips, a loop-de-loop roller-coaster ride inside my body. “I like the sound of that.”

  “Good. But I have this dog here, and I can’t quite leave her alone all night, so is there any chance you’d come over to my place, and spend the night with us?”

  Easiest answer ever. “Yes. But I do have one request.”

  “Lay it on me.”

  “Can you use that forest rain shampoo again? I saw Nisha gave you some extra, and I have to say, it really turns me on.”

  He smiles slyly. “I will use it every day then.”

  Later that night, after Goldilocks allows me to pet her three times before she jumps on the range hood, then up to the highest cabinet to bathe—in her mind presumably—out of sight, I take a shower and shave.

  I get dressed in jeans, tight boxer briefs, and a Henley. Then I order some Thai food without garlic, lock my apartment, and swing by the nearby restaurant to pick up the takeout.

  I catch a Lyft to River’s place in Russian Hill.

  My bones are buzzing as the car cruises through the city on a Sunday night. Even San Francisco looks different. The shops are brighter, the city bolder, the colors more vibrant. Everything feels a little more . . . alive.

  Including me.

  When I reach River’s place, he buzzes me in, and I bound up the steps. He swings open the door, Delilah at his heels.

  “Hi, sexy,” he says.

  “Hey to you,” I say, drawing a deep inhale of his hair. “Mmm. It worked.”

  “Good to know.” River drops a kiss to my lips, then takes the food, setting it on the counter as he declares, “And along those lines, sex first, food second.”

  I’m good with that. Very, very good with that.

  Especially when he takes me to his bedroom and gestures to the king-size bed. A groan works its way up my chest. This is my first time in his bedroom as his lover, and I want anything and everything he has planned.

  Because he definitely has plans, from the looks of it.

  “I hope you don’t mind, Owen, but I took the liberty . . .”

  A rush of heat spreads from my chest down to my groin as I survey the bed. He’s prepped. Simple and seductive. He’s a man who listens. Who knows how to read me. Who wants to give me what I crave from him.

  “Nice tie,” I say, my voice husky already. The temperature in my body spikes as he moves behind me, kisses my neck, then whispers, “Would you rather be kinky or romantic?”

  With him, there’s only one answer. “It’s both.”

  26

  River

  I have so many plans for my man.

  Starting with giving him this.

  My mouth all over him.

  Owen is naked on my bed, glasses off, cock hard, skin looking so damn kissable in the light.

  Because we leave on the lights.

  I need to look at him.

  So I give him what I promised. Taking off my clothes too, then crawling over him. “Told you I’d kiss you senseless tonight, and now I will.”

  I kiss him all over, his pecs, his abs, his legs, his cock. “Cocks get senseless kissing too,” I tell him.

  “I should hope so,” he says, panting hard, then grabbing my hair. “Stop.”

  I moan, annoyed. “Why?”

  “Don’t be so selfish with the kissing. I want to kiss your dick senseless too.”

  Well, there is that.

  “Be my guest.”

  I swing around, climbing on top of the deep-throat god. As we sixty-nine, he shows off all his sucking skills while I lavish kisses, licks, and sucks on his fantastic shaft. But before either one of us gets too close, I ease out of his delicious mouth, let his cock fall from mine, then turn around and drag my hands down his chest. A faint sheen of sweat glistens on his muscles and I groan in admiration. “I am going to have a field day with your body. Do you know that, Owen?”

  “What’s the first event?” he asks, thrusting his hips, letting me know he’s ready for anything I can give him.

  “I thought I’d show you my tying skills,” I say.

  I grab the blue tie, straddle his chest, lift his arms above his head, and bind his wrists together.

  “Mmm. Yes. I like that,” Owen whispers as I make a tight knot.

  “Remember when I said I wanted you to fuck me?”

  “Yes, fucking yes,” he says as a dirty grin spreads on his gorgeous face.

  I drizzle some lube onto my palm. “I pre-gamed before you came over, so I am all lubed up,” I tell him as I grip his shaft, getting him nice and slick for me. “I’m ready to ride you.”

  His eyes go glossy, his jaw slack. “Get on me, River. Now,” he says, his arms pinned and tied above his head.

  Slowly but surely, I lower myself onto him.

  We groan.

  We’re so loud it’s dangerous. Neighbors could hear.

  Let them. Just let them. I’m going to ride my man’s cock into the night.

  And I do.

  Eyes wide open.

  Desire flooding all the space between us.

  And love just everywhere.

  All the love—friendly love, sexual love, romantic love.

  I have it all with Owen.

  And like that, we come together.

  27

  River

  Grant strides into The Lazy Hammock a few nights later, eyes lasered in on me, I told you so written in them. Declan is by his side.

  I turn to Owen at the bar in front of me, drinking a Tom Collins and chatting with TJ, who’s in San Francisco for a few days. “He’s going to gloat.”

  “You think so?” Owen asks drily. “I suspect he’ll ask for a medal of commendation.”

  TJ smirks, then knocks back some of his old-fashioned.

  I stretch a hand across the bar, grab Owen’s and squeeze. “I’d give it to him. I’d so give it to him,” I say of Grant, even though I’m looking at the man I am smitten with.

  Grant reaches the bar, holds out his arms wide, and says, “How about those San Francisco Hawks?”

  At the mention of the local football team, Owen lifts a hand to high-five. “Well played.”

  “Speaking of well played,” Declan cuts in as they take their seats at the bar, “how was your Friendsgiving? Anything interesting happen last weekend?”

  As I get to work prepping their usuals, I answer breezily. “Oh you know. A little snow. A fire. A hot tub.”

  Declan squeezes Grant’s shoulder. “You were Eros.”

  Grant shakes his head. “Nah, we were just enablers, Deck. The real Eros is Mother Nature.”

  TJ lifts his glass. “Or maybe the real Eros is these two guys seeing each other in a whole new light. Sometimes you just have to get out of town for that.”

  Owen nods, lifts his glass. “To the power of Eros, aka the God of . . . Road Trips.”

  I slide drinks to Grant and Declan, and they lift theirs too. “To the power of Paul Rudd.”

  Grant knits his brow in question.

  “Inside joke,” I say, then I lean across the bar and press a kiss to Owen’s lips.

  When I break the kiss, I turn to Grant and Declan. “By the way, you told me so.”

  “And I’ve never been so happy to hear that,” Grant says.

  TJ lifts his glass once more, then looks somewhere in the distance, a faraway haze in his eyes.

  Like he’s lost in time.

  28

  TJ

  I didn’t plan to be in San Francisco.

  My schedule said that it was time to return to New York.

  I have meetings and whatnot, including one coming up any day with Webflix. I’d figured I’d be in New York, prepping for it.

  You don’t miss a meeting with the world’s biggest streaming service. Not when it’s optioned the rights to your best-selling book.

  But when I talked to my agent the other day, he made it clear I needed to stay the fuck out of the scene of the crime for a few more days.

  “New York is getting you down, TJ. Go west, young man. Head to San Francisco. Meet a guy. Go on a date. Maybe that’ll inspire you,” he’d said to me. “Then, we’ll do the meeting.”

  I’d like some inspiration, thank you very much.

  I’d like it to fall from the sky, jump out of a doorway. Hell, it could come in the form of a scary clown, rising up out of a sidewalk grate.

  I need it. Badly.

  So I said yes, and ventured here after Friendsgiving. I’ve been kicking around San Francisco for a few days.

  But I’m not inspired, even at the Lazy Hammock, so I’ve been dateless.

  Story of my life for the last year.

  I can’t complain though. Aside from romance, my life is good. Even though seeing all these guys around me find their happily-ever-afters tugs on my heart.

  Makes me wish mine hadn’t cratered so spectacularly.

  But as I knock back the rest of my drink, listening to Owen and River catch up with Grant and Declan, I reason maybe it’s safer this way, on this side of heartbreak. Just getting to be the guy who’s happy for his friends.

  That’s what I tell Owen when I leave the bar that night, pulling him in for a hug. “So happy for you, O,” I say.

  “Thanks. You gave me the kick in the pants to make it happen.”

  “Nah. You didn’t need me.” I rap my knuckles against his sternum. “You found that kick in the pants right there, my friend.”

  I say goodbye, then I leave, heading out into the San Francisco night.

  Alone.

  Maybe someday I’ll be ready again.

  Maybe someday soon.

  Epilogue

  Owen

  The next year is everything.

  We live it up, River and Owen style. We go to his parents’ house for Thanksgiving, like we planned, and it’s freeing to walk in there holding hands. His parents are ecstatic, draping us in hugs.

  Turns out I don’t mind hugs so much when it’s about this—him and me.

  As the year rolls on, we go to coffee shops and argue about whether London Fog lattes are better than Earl Grey teas. Spoiler alert: we don’t agree.

  We wander around The Mission, checking out new bakeries and ordering cakes.

  “Mostly, I just like to watch you moan around the dessert as you eat it,” River tells me one day as I take a bite of a coconut cake that’s particularly decadent.

  “Because it makes you think about the way I moan when my lips wrap around your cock,” I tell him.

  River leans forward across the table. “Exactly.”

  I join him on a hike, and I love it more than I expect. The company has something to do with it. So I go with him a few times a month, and his dog starts to fall in love with me too.

  We take trips, making our own bucket list of our favorite Discovery Prism places, checking out street art in Santa Fe, and maritime lore in Nova Scotia, and the best of underground Los Angeles.

  River is a great traveling companion because he’s curious by nature. I’m a good one for him, because I’m game for anything.

  And we make the most of our weekends in San Francisco, something that becomes even easier when I move in with him.

  Goldilocks isn’t happy about having two new roommates, but she is a cat, so that’s to be expected. River charms her, though, discovering the key to Goldilocks has been petting her chin ever so lightly, and that makes her purr like a locomotive.

  “Huh. She never really was into petting with me.”

  “Lean into her name. She likes things to be just so,” he says.

  “You’re a cat charmer,” I say, but that’s not entirely surprising.

  River just has that way about him.

  He knows how to make any mammal feel good.

  River makes me feel incredible nearly every night. Sometimes we’re our own brand of kinky, using handcuffs and ties. Sometimes we’re rough, grabbing, kneading, spanking. Sometimes, we just take it slow and sensual, and it feels like the world disappears when our bodies tangle together.

  I love it all with him.

  Every night. Every day.

  And when the calendar turns to November again, and we’re hanging out at The Lazy Hammock with Grant and Declan, the shortstop offers us the cabin one more time.

  “Yes,” River says, pouncing on the invitation in less than a second.

  “I’ll just add in my yes as well, though it seems Mister Bossy has spoken.”

  “Mister Bossy,” Grant says with a chuckle. “That’s a perfect name for my business partner.”

  River is bossy. He likes to be in charge. He likes to be in control. But he also likes to give that power to me. To let me make him feel good. Feel wanted. Feel loved.

  Fortunately, I’m great at that.

  So we road trip again, snacking and arguing, debating Sleepless in Seattle this time, and deciding it didn’t age well, but that Love, Simon definitely deserves a rewatch.

  “Let’s watch it tonight when we get to the Fight Club Sex Cabin,” River declares when we reach Markleeville.

  “Before or after the hot tub?” I ask.

  “Depends on what we’re doing in the hot tub, cutie,” he says.

  “So maybe I shouldn’t exhaust you in the jacuzzi.”

  “Exhaust me anywhere you want. You know I love that you’re only speedy at taking showers,” he says with a sexy wink.

  “I do like to take my time on all the field-day events,” I say.

  Fifteen minutes later, we pull into the driveway, cut the engine, and stare out the front window at the orange haze in the sky. “River?”