The screen flashed a blinding, neon P E R F E C T, followed immediately by a massive, golden K.O.
graphic that took up the entire monitor.
“YES!” Keegan let out a loud, victorious shout, throwing both of his arms up in the air as the machine blasted a triumphant victory siren.
They had just swept Marcus and Reid five whole games in a row, absolutely destroying their scores on expert mode.
Keegan turned around, raising his hand to give Ashton a massive high-five to seal the sweep.
“Hell yeah!” Ashton roared back, completely hyped up on adrenaline.
But instead of slapping Keegan’s raised hand, Ashton bypassed it completely.
He threw his arms wide and tackled Keegan into a massive, breathless hug—exactly the same way they celebrated on the ice after any game-winning goal.
The impact nearly knocked the wind out of Keegan.
Ashton’s arms were wrapped tight around his Keegan, lifting him just an inch off the metal dance pad as he squeezed him tightly.
“Five Out of Zero, baby!
Undefeated!” Ashton laughed loudly right by Keegan’s ear.
When Ashton finally set his feet back down and leaned back slightly to look at him, he was absolutely beaming.
His hazel eyes were shining, his chest heaving with exertion, and his face was inches away from Keegan’s.
Keegan froze in his grip.
He looked down at Ashton, his heart giving a violent, painful stutter in his chest.
His wide, triumphant grin slowly softened, melting into something much more quiet, much more desperate, as he just stared at the Guy holding him.
The heat of Ashton’s body pressed against his, the familiar scent of his cologne mixed with arcade air—it was all suddenly way too much.
Ashton’s own smile faltered just a fraction as he studied Keegan’s face.
He let out a breathless, questioning laugh.
“Damn, Keegs…
did we play so hard you’re about to pass out?
Your face is completely red.
And your ears are practically burning.”
Reality crashed over Keegan like a bucket of ice water.
Panic flared in his chest.
He abruptly shoved his hands against Ashton’s chest, pushing himself out of the tight embrace and taking a sharp, clumsy step backward off the dance pad.
“Ah…
I—I think…” Keegan stammered, his voice suddenly tight and thin.
He rubbed the back of his neck, unable to meet Ashton’s concerned gaze.
Like, a really bad migraine.
I’m just gonna…
head back to the hotel for a bit.”
“Whoa, really?
Right now?” Ashton frowned, stepping forward.
“Do you want me to walk you back?”
“No!
No, I’m good,” Keegan said a little too quickly, already taking another step backward toward the arcade exit.
“Just need to sleep it off.
See you guys later.” Before Ashton could say another word, Keegan turned on his heel and practically bolted, disappearing into the thick crowd.
Just as he vanished, Chloe skipped up to the group, carefully balancing four massive waffle cones of melting ice cream.
She blinked, looking over her shoulder toward the exit before looking back at the guys in confusion.
“Wait, where is he going?” Chloe asked, pouting slightly as she held out a chocolate cone.
“I brought us snacks!” Ashton let out a sigh, reaching over to take the ice cream from her with a soft smile.
“He just said he had a sudden headache, babe.
Said he needed to go lie down.”
Reid snorted, grabbing a strawberry cone from Chloe’s hand and taking a massive bite.
“Okay, okay, whatever.
Sterling is a loser for going to sleep at three in the afternoon anyway.
Let’s go hit the mega-coasters now before the lines get too long.”
Ashton licked his ice cream, an easy, cocky smirk returning to his face as he bumped his shoulder against Reid’s.
“Oh, shut up.
You’re just salty because me and Keegs completely embarrassed you on the dance floor.
Accept the loss, man.”
“It’s the shoes!” Marcus argued loudly, hopping off the dance pad in protest.
“These sneakers don’t have the right grip for DDR!”
“Yeah, keep telling yourself that, Bullydog,” Ashton laughed, wrapping his free arm around Chloe’s waist.
“Come on, let’s go find that roller coaster.”
⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯
Inside Suite 503, the air was heavy and completely still.
The spacious living room was empty, the sunlight streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows to cast long shadows across the untouched plush sectional.
Further in, the bedroom was just as silent, the massive king-sized bed sitting perfectly made. This chapter was copied from novelping.com without permission.
But deeper inside the suite, from behind the heavy oak door of the en-suite bathroom, the rushing, forceful sound of the shower echoed through the quiet space.
Inside the glass enclosure, the water was turned all the way to ice-cold.
Keegan was braced heavily against the slick marble tiles, his head bowed, letting the freezing spray beat down over his broad shoulders.
His chest heaved with ragged, uneven gasps that had absolutely nothing to do with a migraine, and everything to do with the phantom feeling of Ashton’s arms still wrapped like a vice around him.
He squeezed his eyes shut, but the darkness offered no relief.
All he could see was Ashton’s beaming face inches from his own.
All he could feel was the intense heat of Ashton’s body pressed flush against his, the smell of his cologne, the rough, breathless laugh right by his ear.
“Fuck,” Keegan choked out, his voice cracking as it was swallowed by the roar of the water.
He slid his hand up into his soaked hair, gripping the strands tightly as he leaned his forehead against the cold wall.
His entire body was trembling as he stroked his dick hard and fast.
“Ashton…” Keegan whispered, the name slipping past his lips like a fractured prayer.
“Fuvkk, Ash…”
He stood there under the freezing deluge, desperately trying to shock his system into calming down, trying to wash away the overwhelming surge of want.
Fuck…” Keegan choked out, his voice a broken, desperate whisper echoing off the wet tiles.
“Ashhh…
fuck…” His pace became frantic, fueled by years of buried longing and the sheer, overwhelming humiliation of the arcade.
He couldn’t hold it back.
The intense pressure coiled tight in his gut until his whole frame seized, his thighs trembling violently as he came hard, spilling hot onto the tiles before the rushing water washed it down the drain.
A low, shuddering moan escaped his lips, lost in the roar of the shower.
He rested his forehead against the cool tile wall, chest heaving desperately as he tried to bring his racing pulse back down.
But when the haze cleared and he looked down through the stream, a wave of pure horror hit him.
He wasn’t soft.
The agonizing ache hadn’t disappeared at all—he was still completely, throbbing rock-hard, his body stubbornly refusing to let go of the thought of his best friend.
“Fuck!” Keegan growled in absolute misery, dragging a wet hand through his slick hair and clutching at the back of his neck.
“Fuck…
fuck, fuck…”
He leaned his head back against the wall, closing his eyes in sheer frustration as he tried to breathe through the relentless, embarrassing ache.
Then, right through the sound of the rushing water, a sharp Click echoed through the room.
The lock on the outer bathroom door unlatched.
Keegan froze instantly, his heart plunging straight into his stomach, all the air rushing out of his lungs in a single second.
Before he could even react—before he could reach for a towel, turn off the water, or cover himself—the glass shower door swung wide open.