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wet mark staining his shirt.
    “You’re gonna stink

like beer,” Luke said. “I’ll get you a fresh shirt for the d rive home, just in case you get pulled over.” He

disappeared into his room and returned a second later. “Here.”
    Tristan crossed his

arm at his waist and peeled off the wet shirt. Luke stilled. He wasn’t built

like an athlete, but he wasn’t built like a wai f

either. His abs were cut and shadowed with dark hair. His arms were toned and

showed soft tufts of hair underneath. He wore a thick leather belt and there

was something intriguing about the fit of his tattered jeans.
    “Like what you see?”
    What the fuck? L uke’s gaze

jerked to his, but his scowl was short lived. Tristan’s chest lifted with each

slow breath. A leather necklace tied to some sort of arrowhead pendant rested

between his dark nipples.
    Luke frowned. “What?”
    “You’re looking at

me.”
    “No, I wasn’t.” Luke’s brow tightened.
    He stepped closer. Too

close. Luke should take a step back, but for some reason he didn’t. His breath

came in short, clipped puffs as Tristan crowded him.
    “Yes,” he whispered.

“You were.”
    Luke met his stare and

frowned. He couldn’t move, couldn’t tell him to back

it up. He just stood there, staring into his gunmetal eyes, mesmerized. Part of

his dark hair had fallen from the tie. It dusted his shoulder just above a

curled scar. Luke wanted nothing more than to trace his finger over t hat mark and ask what had happened—which made no sense.
    His gaze shot to his

chest. Another scar. This one a divot. By his sternum there was another,

exactly the same. A tiny little star of white. Once he noticed one, he noticed

all of them.
    Without think ing, his hand reached out. His thumb coasted over the white

scar on his ribs, his fingers curling around Tristan’s side. The other man’s

skin burned the inside of his palm. Tristan drew in a sharp breath and Luke

asked, “What happened to you?”
    “My dad wasn’t a nice man and he liked to wear big belts.”
    His head jerked up and

he checked Tristan’s eyes for sincerity. “He hit you with a belt? That’s what

all these marks are?”
    The stubble along his

rugged throat shifted as he swallowed. “He wasn’t happy when he caught me doin’ something I shouldn’t have been

doin’—to his way of thinking.”
    “What were you doing?”
    “This.” He stepped

close and his palm curled around the back of Luke’s neck. A split second

later—too quick to pull back—Tristan’s lips met his.
    Luke grunted and jerked away at the first stroke of the other

guy’s tongue. “What the hell are you doing?”
    “I…I thought you

wanted me to. You touched me.”
    He frowned. No he

didn’t. Yes. You fucking did. You’re still

touching him. He

jerked his hand away. It was the beer! Shit, he

needed to lay off the drinking.
    “Luke, look, it’s

okay. I just thought with everything today—the shower—clearly I misread—”
    “Are you dating my

cousin?” he suddenly blurted.
    “What? No. Ryan’s

straight.” Tristan’s answer shouldn’t have re lieved

him, but it did.
    “You’re gay ?”
    Luke was distracted as

Tristan took a deep breath. Tanned

skin shadowed with hair drew his gaze to the cut of his chest glistening with a

hint of sweat or maybe spilt beer. “Yeah, but it doesn’t have to be an issue. I f you aren’t interested, we can act like nothing happened

here and just go back to five minutes ago.”
    “Does Ryan know you’re

gay?”
    “Yeah. He’s fine with

it. Most people are. It’s not like I openly maul anything with a dick. I have a

specific taste.”
    “Me?”
    “Well…” He turned and

forked a hand through his hair. “You’re very handsome. Christ, I already saw

you naked.”
    And for some reason

Luke had purposely made sure he’d seen him. He wanted him to look, like it was

some pissing match or something. Thinking back , it

was stupid and