Mike sees Jacob getting ready and wants to know where he’s going. He doesn’t get this whole thing at all. That bothers Jacob. What’s the use of being mad at someone if they don’t realize it? “A party,” is all he says. He’s wearing that tank top Avery commented on and a pair of baggy jeans. It feels so good to be in denim again. “You’re not invited.”
“I don’t want to go,” Mike replies, as if he has a choice. “You’re wearing that?”
Jacob almost says, but he’s not going to talk to Mike about Avery. Instead, he glares at his roommate and asks, “What’s wrong with it?”
Mike doesn’t answer at first. The tank top is tight and tucked into his jeans. It covers his stomach and chest like a second skin. His arms are well muscled—he likes the way they make him look older than he really is. They bul
