Morgan James

“Gabe gives me exactly as much shit about my ass as everyone else. Which, actually, I think I’m offended he doesn’t pay more attention.”

“Sorry about crashing in your room again.” Baller quirked his lips.

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Oh, I’m not. Since you’re the one who fell asleep on my shoulder,” Baller said blithely, even as he smirked. “And then wouldn’t let me leave the bed when I tried.”

“I’m hurt. Also, they don’t let you take your phone in the holding cell with you.”

Gabe snorted despite himself and tried to ignore the rush of affection. “Why am I not surprised you know that.”

“Aw, babe, don’t be jealous of my life experience.”

Gabe flushed at the pet name and decided to put it down to the alcohol.

Baller crowded close, pressed his body up against Gabe’s, and curled a hand around Gabe’s neck. He licked his lips. His cheeks were flushed.

Then Baller leaned in and kissed him.

He was staring back at Gabe, his cheeks flushed red with alcohol and his hair a mess. He looked stupid.

Gabe loved him.

Maybe a vacation to Rio.

Dante fisted an ungloved hand just above Gabe’s Dekes logo and yanked him into a hard kiss.

Well, Gabe thought as they broke apart, both still grinning like idiots, that ought to make the papers.