Read Random Acts of Trust for Free Online Page A

looked at me as if I’d won the MegaMillions lottery. I got to the stairs to the left of the stage, feeling like I was walking a death march. A red EXIT sign glowed to me right. If I bolted right now...
    “Not that I wouldn’t mind kissing a dude,” Liam added. A few guys in the audience cheered really loud.
    “Because the prize is a kiss from me.” Liam peered down the stage steps and when his eyes set on me, all that confidence faltered for a split second.
    A what ? Couldn’t I just get a CD?
    One of the stage hands nudged me to join Liam, and I walked on feet made of electrified concrete.
    “Amy!” I heard Darla squeal from backstage.
    “Amy?” The way Sam said my name made me nearly vomit.
    “Amy.” Liam’s smile spread slowly, his voice like buttered suede. “Our lucky winner.”
    Lights sprayed across my face, making me half-blind, as hundreds of eyes watched me and Liam on stage. He put his arm around my shoulders as people in the crowd began began to chant “kiss!” over and over.
    I couldn’t even look at Sam. Because I knew he was staring at me.
    Covering my body with his to shield the view, Liam’s face came so close to mine I could inhale his aftershave, smell the sweat and musk of excitability the performance must bring out in him. A quick peck on the cheek, and he whispered, “Let’s make this look nice and juicy.”
    One hand went around my hip, the other snaked up my back, between my shoulder blades, and he dipped me, the crowd seeing mostly his body and my legs.
    The roar made me go out of my mind.
    And when he let go, I fled out the side door.
    Maybe Sam wasn’t the only one who could just walk away when it was all too much.

Chapter Two
Sam
    Unh . Gasp. Uhn. Gasp. I shifted on the couch and turned over, shoving my face into the back of it, trying to block out the sun. Trevor and Joe had a great place here on the Fenway, but I could do without the soundtrack. Uhn. Gasp.
    A door creaked open and I heard Trevor mumble, “Where the fuck is the extra lube?”
    I rolled my eyes and turned enough to wedge my entire face into the corner of the couch. Oh, God. Again? It didn’t help that I woke up with morning wood and the last time that I’d actually been with a woman...well, let’s just say I was dating Pamela Handerson or Jennifer Handiston. I had been arguing with Harry Longfellow. Strangling Patrick Stewart. And it made me feel like Hand Solo.
    “Right there,” I heard Darla groan.
    The bathroom door slammed and Trevor’s feet pounded on the floor as if he were running, and then, I heard the unmistakable sound of bedsprings. Did he just launch himself onto the bed? I crammed the pillow over my head. In my dark little cave I could still hear the sounds of obvious hotness. So, while my friends were acting out something out of an amateur YouPorn video, I was sitting here on the couch with an aching dick and no end in sight.
    Amy . Her name flashed through my head and damn, if the morning wood didn’t grow from a twig to a Goddamn log. She’d disappeared last night, out of the blue. Darla had come up on stage and then poof! Amy was gone. I didn’t know what that meant—not that I had a right to know what that meant.
    Some sort of slapping sound hit the wall and the bedsprings creaked in a steady pattern. Jesus Christ, this was one macrobeat I did not need to hear. Whenever Darla was over here they went at it like ferrets, or bunnies, or whatever rodent goes at it a lot. At least twice a day, usually more. Who the hell has the stamina? Who was I kidding? I had that kind of stamina. I just didn’t have a girlfriend. Amy. Dammit! What was she doing there last night?
    “ Oh, yeah! Oh, yeah! Oh, yeah!” came a feminine chant from the bedroom.
    I flung the blanket off of me, threw the pillow against the wall where it smacked with an utterly unsatisfactory sound, and slammed my way into the bathroom down the hall. Peeing was like pulling a tight slot machine lever, I had to use a hell of