Chapter 7
Bright sunlight peeked in through the not-quite closed drapes at Brock’s bedroom window. Calvin—who lay spooned behind Brock, his right arm over the cowboy’s waist, his right hand cupping a handsome-sized set of balls—didn’t want to get up, but his increasingly full bladder was leaving him with little option.
Sighing, Calvin removed his arm. Brock mumbled something and shifted in his sleep.
Calvin kissed Brock’s right shoulder. “Back in a minute.”
Before leaving the room, he turned in the doorway to take another look at Brock. The man’s face was peaceful, his mouth was slightly open with a small line of drool running down the side of his chin and pooling on the pillowcase. Brock’s blond hair was all sleep-tousled and just so cute.
Calvin turned away. “God, I’m so screwed,”
