Julius hadn't slept. He'd gone home. Showered. Changed. Laid in bed staring at the ceiling for hours. But sleep never came.
Every time he closed his eyes, he felt it again. Harrison's mouth on his. The way his body had responded without permission. The heat that spread through him like fire.
He hated it. No, that wasn't true. He hated that he didn't hate it.
Julius dragged himself out of bed at dawn. His reflection in the bathroom mirror looked wrong. Dark circles under his eyes. Hair a mess. Looking worn down.
He touched his lips without thinking. Then dropped his hand immediately. "Stop," he muttered to himself.
It didn't work. His mind kept replaying the moment. The kiss. The way Harrison had held him. The way he'd kissed back.
Why did he kiss back? The question had been looping in his head all night. He didn't have an answer.
