Him (Him, #1)

by Sarina Bowen

Is it possible to make a wedding toast without acknowledging the bride?

flat stomach

Why is it that these books always have a sexy woman with a "flat" stomach??

whack.

Did my man just unironically use the word whack?

doll.”

What an ass

The fact that he’d been the first guy I ever loved and the one who made me face some terrifying things about myself…well, all that will go unsaid.

We take a moment to high-five each other,

How very dudebro of you

I want Rainier to win. I want to face Canning in the finals. I want to pretend I still don’t have feelings for the guy.

Fuck, he’d looked good. Really good. All golden-boy California hotness, big and blond and sexy as fuck. With those soulful brown eyes—surprising on a blond guy. It’s an understated sexiness, though. Jamie Canning never flaunted his looks in all the time I’d known him. Sometimes I think he’s not even aware of how goddamn attractive he is.

It’s funny—I’m sure everyone has something they regret saying. An insult they’d hurled someone’s way. A confession they wished they could take back. Maybe, I don’t know, an insensitive joke they wish they hadn’t told. The one sentence I regret? “Let’s watch some porn.”

I was collecting on the damn bet, which is so fucking ironic, because he’d won. The prize was his, except it wasn’t. It was mine. Because I’d wanted to touch him more than I’d wanted my next breath.

“Well, I’ve always been good at stickhandling.”

I was like the serpent shoving the apple at Eve. Or rather the banana…

It’s like watching an accident. I know what’s about to occur, but forces are already in motion and I can’t stop them.

“Canning, I’m gay. And yeah—maybe that’s not such a big deal in the grand scheme of things. Except that the last time we were here I kind of…pushed you into fooling around with me. It wasn’t cool, and I’ve spent the last four years feeling shitty about it.”

I was not expecting him to be this up-front about it

Letting out a breath I don’t even know I’m holding,

Classic

Handsy motherfucker, ain’t he?

Jealous, are we?

My chest goes rigid. The thought of Wes hooking up with someone tonight pisses me off. Jealous? a little voice mocks.

“You’re the king of bad ideas,” he reminds me. “At least this one ends with both of us feeling good.”

I’ve lived confusion. It ain’t pretty.

Maybe it takes more balls to be Wes than I’d realized.

What does a guy who’s not as straight as he thought look like, anyway? “Like you, apparently.”

“Do you want me to go back to my bed?” He snuggles even closer, plastering himself to my body like a warm blanket. “No.” He sighs in contentment. “Night, Wes.” A lump rises in my throat. “Night, Canning.”