Free Love in Xxchange: Miles to Go by Bailey Bradford Page B

if Annabelle was a fair example of the opposite sex, they were just as confusing as hell. Maybe he should drag his heels and hope she’d be gone before he got back.
    Max discarded the idea as cowardly as he made his way home. Wasn’t like Annabelle was going to jump his bones—she just liked to tease, and that was something Max didn’t have a lot of experience with. The fact that he really wanted to see Bo, only to make sure the man was doing better today, was an incentive to hurry he wished he didn’t have to MILES TO GO
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    acknowledge. It scared him and thrilled him every time he saw Bo, and Max wasn’t quite sure what to do about that.
    Truly, the only time he didn’t feel like a ball of ragged nerves around Bo was when they went to bed. After that first night together, Max had decided it’d be better to push the twin beds together. More room for them both if Bo had another nightmare and Max ended up in bed with him. Not that it made any difference. They always woke in the morning tangled together some way or another, usually right on the seam where the two beds pressed together. It was the most uncomfortable spot to sleep on, but worth it to feel Bo’s warm body draped over his.
    The porch light was on, which meant Max had to bat away a slew of June bugs and
    moths. There were other flying critters that he didn’t bother trying to identify. Some things were best left unknown. The tarantula Annabelle had nicknamed Fred was hanging on the lower part of the screen door. Those hairy things were creepy as all get out, and even though they weren’t poisonous, Max was certain he’d have a heart attack and keel over if one ever bit him.
    Carefully edging his way to the door handle, Max kept a close eye on Fred as he slipped inside the house. Tarantulas could jump, and Max didn’t trust Fred at all. He’d take the can of Raid to that spider—not to spray it, but to beat it to death with—if he didn’t think Annabelle would have his balls for it.
    Max breathed a sigh of relief when he closed the door behind him. Fred was still on the outside of the screen. He didn’t have to worry about death by freaky spider tonight.
    “Rough day?” The words were spoken with a painful sounding rasp.
    Max yelped in surprise. Bo was sitting on the battered couch just inside the bunkhouse.
    This was the first time the man had really been out of bed, and he’d damned near managed to accomplish what Fred hadn’t. Max’s heart was pounding in his chest like it was trying to rip free from his body.
    “You could say that,” Max replied a little breathlessly. Bo was shirtless, which accounted for Max’s asthmatic impersonation. It wasn’t the first time he’d seen the man in such a state of undress, and it always did this to him. Even badly bruised, Bo was still the most attractive person Max had ever seen.
    Guess that explains why I was never much interested in girls. Women, excuse me, Ms Steinem.
    Doesn’t explain why I ain’t felt like this about any other men though. Max had thought he was MILES TO GO
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    asexual at the best of times, and a flat-out freak at the worst. He knew his childhood had screwed him up, especially his sexuality. After all, how many men reached his age and were still virgins?
    “‘C’mere,” Bo scraped out, patting the cushion. A thousand crack-fuelled butterflies burst free in his stomach. It was one thing to cuddle with the injured man in the middle of the night, feigning sleep as an excuse to hold him close. This was more personal, a more conscious choice, and Max wasn’t sure it was a smart one. That didn’t stop him from tossing his Stetson onto the recliner and dropping down a few inches away from Bo.
    “Looks like you’re doing better today.” Max swallowed his nerves and looked at Bo, noting the stark bruising on his neck and face. At least the swelling had gone almost all the way down. “Probably good for you to be moving around a