“Yeah, but not for a while. And it’s different. Seems to me there’s more of it than I remember.”
“The hair?” Tucker almost blushed.
“Sure. Yeah. Hair. That too. “
Tucker smiled. “Just hurry up and change.” He dried himself off, then slipped into some sweats of his own, choosing to stay shirtless, since it would only soak through. He pulled his hair back and grabbed a vinyl safari-type hat for his head.
“Here.” Tucker tossed one Chad’s way, and then turned when it hit the floor.
“You’ll remember gym was never my thing.” Chad winced.
“Well, I caught you off—” Tucker lost his train of thought to distraction: distraction verging on arousal, as Chad stood before him in soaking wet undershorts—dark gray with a wide, bright-white waistband and piping around the legs and fly. Fitted and then
