Gateway to Love

1

Mitch

Epic. That’s what Craig had said. Come on, it’ll be epic, Mitchell.

To be fair, his best friend had caught Mitch when his defenses were down. He’d broached the subject at the pool, the sunlight dancing across the water, momentarily blinding anyone nearby. Heat rose from the ground, shimmery waves hovering over the concrete, reminding him of why they’d come out to the pool in the first place.

The air-conditioning in their antiquated apartment could barely keep up and the cool water had beckoned them on that lazy afternoon. The temperature had been unbearable for days and it wasn’t even technically summer yet. If you don’t like the weather, just wait fifteen minutes.Having grown up in Kansas City, Mitch had heard that all his life, and usually the expression rang true. Not this time. This heat wave had arrived strong and kicked everyone’s ass before it’d settled in for a nice long stay.

With college graduation firmly in the rearview mirror and a new job coming up, Mitch had been restless. He’d needed something to do for the next couple of weeks. He’d felt numb—almost lethargic—after spending weeks cramming for finals, interviewing for jobs, and preparing for graduation. With nothing demanding his attention, his mind had wandered where it shouldn’t—to a place he’d long abandoned. A place that made him want what he knew he couldn’t have. Still, no matter how many times he’d tried to censure himself, the what-ifsplayed havoc in his mind.

Tendrils of hope had already sprouted, slowly weaving through him. Mitch had fought it, truly he had. At night he’d lain in his bed, forcing himself to face away from the wall separating their bedrooms and pretend he wasn’t aware that his best friend was mere feet away. Mitch could hear every small sound, every step in the room, every shift on the mattress. He’d closed his mind to it—burying his head under his pillow and damning to hell the architects who had designed the paper-thin walls in their apartment building.

But it hadn’t worked. Nothing worked. The ache had only grown until it had morphed into a huge gaping need that threatened to follow Mitch all the way to his new life in West Virginia. For years, he had worked hard to keep those damn feelings at bay and yet, here he was, almost across the finish line and dangerously close to letting his secret out. Emotions were swallowing him up and he was losing control.

What he needed was something to fill the time—something to occupy his mind.

And of course that’s when it had happened. The moment he knew his life would change, for better or worse. They’d been the only two left at the pool when Craig first brought it up. And it had all boiled down to two words.

Mitch hadn’t even bothered with a beach towel that day. With the crazy heat, it hadn’t been necessary—he’d been practically dry in the short walk from the pool to the white metal lounge chair. Settling in, the old chair loudly protesting, Mitch reached for his phone and checked for any messages. His sister had promised to send him some information about an apartment building within his price range and fairly close to her place. But there was nothing, so he leaned back and closed his eyes for a moment, his face to the sun, wondering if he needed to reapply sunscreen.

“Mitchell!”

Why does he always have to call me that? Everyone else calls me Mitch.He ignored the flutter in his gut and opened one eye, his hand against his forehead shielding his eyes from the sun.

But he couldn’t protect himself from the bright smile on the face of the man walking toward him, nor the warmth spreading through his chest.

Traitorous heart.He was screaming it in his head, but as usual, his heart ignored him as he soaked in the beauty that was Craig. At least Mitch was practiced at appearing nonchalant. He’d certainly had years of practice.

“I’m right here. You don’t need to yell.” Mitch was fairly certain the tremor in his voice was too insignificant to notice. He’d opened his other eye to drink in the sight of his best friend walking toward him. Shirtless. The few water droplets that hadn’t evaporated yet falling from his short dirty-blond hair, rolling down his broad chest. Hair swirling over—

“Road trip!”

Mitch jolted, brought his gaze back to meet Craig’s eyes. He scrunched his brow as Craig took a seat at the end of his lounge chair, but Mitch shifted his legs, making room for him. His friend rested his warm hand lightly on Mitch’s calf and he bit back the urge to moan, trying to ignore the electricity coursing through his body. A light breeze carried the scent of Craig’s shampoo and he swallowed hard.