Ryan collapsed on his bed that night and fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. In his dreams, he ran into Gage.

He replayed the incident with Gage over and over, but each time with the same frustrating outcome. Anger and a fight. In the dream, Gage lashed out at him. Instead of hitting Ryan, he yanked him close. Ryan gazed into Gage’s eyes, and his frustration melted. He’d wanted to be this close to Gage for so long. The man’s gaze was magnetic. Ryan’s skin sizzled and his nerve endings tingled.

Something around them buzzed. Ryan reached for Gage, only to have the man fade away. Fade away? How... Ryan sat up and glanced around his bedroom.

Damn. Being with Gage was only a dream. He scrubbed both hands over his face and grunted. So much for sleeping. He noticed the time on the digital clock. Nine a.m. Shit. He’d missed chores. Now, he knew what the buzzing was—the doorbell. He climbed out of bed and raked his fingers through his hair. He still had the same clothes on from the night before.

He trudged barefoot through the house to the front door. Whoever wanted him wasn’t in the living room. Odd. If his father was there because Ryan had missed chores, then he would’ve been standing in the middle of the living room or would’ve barged into Ryan’s bedroom.

He grasped the door handle and opened the door. Instead of his father on the stoop, Gage waited on the small porch.

“Gage?” Now, he wished he’d have changed his clothes or at least brushed his teeth. “Can I help you?” He drank in the image of Gage. The faded jeans hung low on Gage’s hips and the T-shirt stretched tight across his broad chest. He’d cut his sandy blond hair, and the new do worked wonders on Gage. The shorter cut brought out the shape of his brown eyes and chiseled chin. Ryan longed to run his hands over that chest and to feel Gage beside him. God, he had it bad for Gage Bell.

Gage bowed his head, and his voice dropped an octave. “Can we talk?”