Chapter 10

The Administration Building was open, so they entered the men’s room and Blake hit the faucet, filling the sink. He ripped a bunch of paper towel from the dispenser and soaked them in the cold water, then slapped it onto Ryan’s forehead.

“Ooooh,” moaned Ryan. “That feels so—”

“Awesome?” laughed Blake, pressing the towel firmly into Ryan’s head, “Stop moving.” Ryan felt Blake’s left arm circle his shoulder and press hard on his back to keep him steady. The hand was big and warm, with long, manly fingers that spread across his sweaty back. The two of them stood there silently for a minute. Ryan could feel Blake’s breath—it smelled like rain and stone and salami.

“Hey, Ryan,” said Blake, looking down at him. They were close now—so close that their conversation felt as intimate as pillow talk. “About yesterday…”