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Chapter 20

As Josh rolls on top of Eddie, they knock heads. They both freeze in mid-stance. Dazed. Thrilled by their sexual impulses.

Agape, their mouths hover over each other. “I proved that I’m the bigger man,” Eddie says confidently.

Head bob. Josh half-smiles. “Bigger maybe. But not better.”

Eddie’s only response is to shake his head; he smirks, leans into Josh’s acidic morning breath, “I still hold my record of three-hundred.”

“Balls don’t make a man. Do you know what does?”

Eddie looks at him, wide-eyed, confused. “I dunno.”

Josh raises his head a few inches so his tongue brushes Eddie’s bottom lip. His mouth tastes salty. “This,” he says, gripping the back of Eddie’s head, pulling him deeper into his throaty French kiss.

Later that morning, sitting up in bed, eating Eddie’s excuse for breakfast—runny eggs and dry whole-wheat toast—Josh says, “Thanks for teaching me how to bowl.”

“No prob. That’s what friends are for, right?”

Friends?