Chapter 8
The following morning Clayton woke up in Emmett’s bed. Emmett was still asleep beside him. He rolled over onto his side and watched him sleeping, still unable to completely believe they’d made love not six hours earlier. He studied his friend, noticing how handsome he was. Or more correctly, re-noticing. He’d forgotten the finer features of Emmett’s face over the years. Whenever he looked at Emmett he’d seen a friend, not a hot, handsome Middle Eastern man with masculine features and broad shoulders. Other people saw it, but not him. Not anymore. Until that moment.
He smiled and couldn’t prevent himself from leaning down and kissing Emmett lightly on the cheek.
He settled back, resting his head on his hand and watching the gentle rise and fall of Emmett’s nostrils as he slept.
