Free 02-Let It Ride by L.C. Chase Page A

life.”
    Eric smiled then, more dazzling than even those damn stars. He stepped forward, pressed a chaste kiss to Bridge’s mouth, and then backed out of reach before Bridge could trap him in his embrace again. “Get ice for Tripp. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
    Bridge nodded, smiling so wide he thought his whole face might split in half. “Tomorrow.”

Eric hadn’t been able to sleep more than a few hours but still managed to find himself wide-awake well before the sun rose or any of the other campers on the rodeo grounds began to stir. He’d been too amped up thinking about Bridge, replaying the kiss they’d shared, imagining how things could be between them, dreaming for something he knew he couldn’t ever hope to hold on to. Not for long anyway. Usually only long enough for the inevitable parting to destroy what tiny threads of hope he still clung to.
    Laced with those old, deep-seated fears were brand-new ones about the man who was burrowing into his subconscious. Bridge may have experimented with men once before, but he hadn’t been with a man since. How much could Eric trust that it hadn’t been anything more than a good old college try and maybe now Bridge just wanted to take a little trip down memory lane?
    Either way, sooner or later Bridge would see what everyone else had seen: that there was something inherently wrong with Eric. Why else would everyone he had ever loved, or had thought had loved him, kick him to the curb? He wanted what Bridge and his friends had—that unconditional camaraderie, that belonging, that confidence that he was wanted and loved. But the more he wished and prayed for love, the more elusive it seemed to become. All he knew of that mysterious emotion was pain. Every time he’d let himself believe that maybe this time would be different was when it’d all come crashing down again.
    But history couldn’t keep repeating itself his whole life, could it? Marty, Bridge, Kent, and even Tripp, now that he was back in the fold, had somehow managed to weave him seamlessly into the thick fabric of their circle when he wasn’t looking. And he had to admit those threads felt stronger than any he’d tried to hold on to before.
    But what exactly made him think this time really would be any different?
    The answer came fast: Bridge Sullivan.
    The man was solid. A rock in the eye of the storm. No matter what happened, he stood by his friends. He made sure everyone around him was happy, and when Bridge looked at him with those enchanting dark eyes, he found himself falling deeper and deeper into their soothing depths. Not to mention he was one of the most beautiful men Eric had ever laid eyes on. Who wouldn’t find themselves diving down the rabbit hole for someone like him?
    But then there was the whole reawakened-interest-in-men-at-twenty-eight-years-old part.
    He huffed and kicked back the bed covers.
    Could he let himself believe, hope, that it wasn’t just temporary curiosity? He didn’t want to be an experiment for Bridge, and he didn’t want to let his hopes cloud reality. Bridge was one of the best friends he’d ever had. All of them were. Deep down he knew none of them would deliberately hurt him, especially Bridge, who looked out for everyone, but that wasn’t a guarantee against losing them all. It was, however, a guarantee that this time the end would crush him forever. So it really was best not to cross that friends-only line. At least no more than they already had. Save the mess and stay friends. Let Bridge find someone else to satisfy his curiosity.
    A little green ember of jealousy dug its roots into the back of his mind at the thought of someone else kissing Bridge, someone else burrowed into that melt-worthy embrace, fingers that weren’t his fisting in that lush blond hair . . .
    No. If anyone was going to reteach Bridge the joys of gay sex, who better than a friend who truly cared about him? Someone who wouldn’t do anything to hurt him, make him do anything he