Staying True (Gay Romance) Read online

  Staying True (Gay Romance)

  By Trina Solet

  Copyright © 2016 by Trina Solet

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, locales or actual events is entirely coincidental.

  All sexual activity takes place between persons eighteen years of age or older.

  This novel contains material intended for mature readers.

  Cover image is only for illustrative purposes. Any person depicted is a model.

  Staying True

  Gay Romance

  Trina Solet

  Chapter 1

  "Hey, Spence. By all means feel free to sleep in, go to work late and get fired so I can kick your lazy ass out of here."

  Hearing the voice coming through his door, Spencer grumbled into the wonderful, soft pillow that nestled his head. He heard a barrage of knocking. As his bedroom door opened, the voice telling him to get up got louder.

  Spencer tried to muffle the irritating voice by hiding his head under his beloved pillow. With absolutely no compassion or human feeling, Greg snatched it away. He was a tall, redheaded tyrant and the worst alarm clock anybody ever had.

  Of course Spencer had slept right through his actual alarm going off. Unwillingly, he took a peek at the time. He had forty-five minutes till he had to be at work. He only needed twenty. That was plenty of time for a five minute shower and then a sprint to work. Why was Greg waking him already?

  "Did you forget the new roomie is moving in today? Get your crap out of the other bedroom," Greg told him just in time to answer his question before Spencer had to ask and admit that he had forgotten.

  As Spencer was rising to sit up in slow motion and swinging his legs off the bed, he realized he didn't have as much time as he thought. He was storing a few things in the empty room next to his. Now he would need to find space for them in his own cramped bedroom.

  Grabbing a towel, he slung it over one shoulder and went to take a shower. As he got into the bathroom, he slowly absorbed what Greg just said about the new roomie. A roomie was an actual person who would be living with them. It was one more guy sharing the same space with him and Greg.

  Greg was the landlord of sorts since the apartment was in his name. And because he was a total tyrant, Spencer didn't even get to meet the new roomie before Greg gave him a thumbs up. He wondered if there was any chance in hell that a new roommate could be a good thing. It would be a huge bonus if he was hot, obviously.

  Spencer stepped under the shower then turned it on. He gasped as the spray of cold water hit him like icy needles and woke him up fully. Being awake sucked. He soaped up and shampooed his hair as the water gradually got warmer.

  Since Greg got him up earlier than he would have liked, Spencer decided he had time to jerk off. As he slid his hand down his slim body, he thought about that imaginary, very hot roomie. He pictured him right there in the shower with him. They could save time and water if they showered together.

  While he ran his soapy hands over his own body, Spencer thought about lathering up a hard muscled roommate. He could knead his bulging muscles. The imaginary sensation of supple yet hard flesh under his hands overlapped with the feel of stroking his dick.

  The roomie turned to him, his cock jutting out, hard. With the man's hands heavy on his shoulders, Spencer kneeled down. The man took Spencer's face in his hands and pulled him forward. Spencer drew in one last deep breath then gasped as he came and leaned his forehead against the wet tiles. That fantasy ended too soon, but it felt oh so good. Now the real roommate he was about to meet was sure to be a huge disappointment.

  It was probably going to be some skinny geek just like Spencer.

  After some more rushed scrubbing and rinsing, Spencer stepped out of the shower. He threw down a towel so he wouldn't drip all over the tiles and have to listen to Greg screaming at him that he was flooding the place. Looking at himself in the mirror as he dried his hair, Spencer wondered what kind of impression he would make on their new roomie.

  Pushing his hair off his eyes, Spencer grumbled. What he saw in the mirror sure wasn't anyone's dream roommate. His curly, dark hair was always falling over his eyes because he hated how it looked whenever he cut it. He sometimes got compliments on his dark eyes just because people wanted to say something nice and they couldn't exactly compliment his pecs. His body was hopeless.

  Maybe that's why he was into guys with some muscle. Spencer was flexing and nodding at himself with approval when Greg yelled at him to hurry up. He jumped then reminded himself that Greg couldn't see him making a fool of himself.

  Spencer was in his room, zipping up his pants when Greg shouted an update.

  "He's coming up now, and your stuff is still in there. Move your skinny ass," Greg told him.

  "It's just a few boxes. I'll get them out now," Spencer yelled back.

  While bending down to put on his shoes, Spencer briefly checked himself out in the full length mirror that hung on the back of his door. He might be on the skinny side, but his ass was OK. Some even called it cute.

  Done admiring his own ass like some insecure weirdo, Spencer went over to the room he had been using as a storage closet. Not that it was small. It was the same size as his own and furnished with the same kind of bed, dresser, chair and small desk under the window.

  Since he didn't want to be yelled at again, Spencer got to work. One by one, he dragged the boxes to his own room. The whole time he was wondering if they even held anything he needed. They were heavy, like they had in them every book he ever read.

  Spencer fit the boxes in his own room the best he could and silently promised to go through them later. A part of him laughed heartily at that promise. He was going to be tripping over those boxes as long as he lived here, and after that probably dragging them every place he moved. He just didn't know how to let go.

  Stopping for a minute in the kitchen, Spencer tossed back a couple of handfuls of dry cereal straight from the box, and gulped down some coffee, and he was all set. Breakfast of champions also known as the breakfast of don't want to be late and get fired.

  Now it was time to head to work, so Spencer patted himself down to make sure he had his keys, his phone, and his wallet. As he walked down the stairs with his phone in hand, he was checking his texts and emails when he heard footsteps heavier and slower than his own coming up the steps. He looked up from his phone just in time to see... No way.

  Walking up the stairs was a mirage. The man Spencer saw coming toward him couldn't be the roommate. He was pure fantasy straight out of Spencer's poor, feverish imagination. He might even be a dream. Maybe Spencer was still asleep. Whether awake or asleep, he had to take stock of what he was looking at.

  He stared from the top of the man's head of brown hair to his smiling brown eyes on a gorgeous face. His gaze moved down the somewhat thick neck, the broad shoulders, well muscled arms, then a magnificent chest covered with a plain white t-shirt that Spencer wanted to rip off.

  The jeans would also have to go. Spencer could just imagine the goodies hiding under them, and not just between his legs. He knew those legs were something by the way the jeans stretched over them. Those were muscular, bulging thighs that Spencer wanted to grab hold of as he sucked the life out of this guy, whoever he was. Not the roommate though because that was impossible.

  As he stood there gaping, Spencer should have been e
mbarrassed by spacing out while his brain switched to an all porn channel. But seriously, when a guy looks like that, you stare, you drool, you fantasize and you apologize later. Finally noticing that the total hunk was carrying a box, Spencer got out of his way.

  "Thanks," the hunk said and smiled. And what a sunny smile on that gorgeous face. Spencer just melted inside.

  That couldn't be him. He wasn't the new roomie. He was someone who was helping the new roomie move in. Spencer almost decided to call in sick anyway so he could spend some time with this very helpful friend. He could watch this guy bringing in boxes and bending over to set them down. Too bad Spencer couldn't do that. He valued his job. It paid the rent after all.

  As Spencer looked after him regretfully, the guy turned. He looked down at Spenser from a few steps up. His muscles bulged beautifully as he held that box, and he flashed Spencer another awesome smile. Unable to look away, Spencer kept staring after him and saw his ass flex as he walked up.

  Even after he was gone, Spencer stared up at nothing like a total idiot. That's when he heard the guy's deep but mellow voice as he greeted Greg and then Greg's familiar gruff, nagging tone as he ordered him around and told him the rules of the house. Wait. Why did this guy need to know the rules?

  Spencer could think of only one reason. That hunk was their new roomie after all. Spencer couldn't believe it.

  Spencer walked down the stairs with a goofy smile plastered on his face. And to think it would be hours before he got to come home from work. Stepping out onto the street in front of their apartment building, Spencer took a breath of cool, early morning air. He took another big lungful to sober him up a little and help him let go of crazy fantasies. Even if he was the new roomie, that man was out of reach for a skinny, nerdy guy like him.

  Look but don't touch – that's how it was going to be. The new guy was like that midnight blue sports car that just sped past. It got Spencer's attention and his eyes followed it until it made a fast turn at the end of the block. He admired it, but he knew he couldn't have a car like that. Things like that were just something for Spencer to dream about. Just like he was going to be dreaming about his new roommate whether he wanted to or not.

  A hot guy who was out of his league living right under his nose to torture him – it was just like Greg to set him up like that. It sure was going to be weird to have him sleeping in the bedroom next door, hopefully naked. Maybe he sleepwalked. Spencer found himself grinning again until he realized he was going to be late for work if he didn't hurry up and get a move on. Obviously it was going to take more than a lungful of fresh air to get Spencer to let go of his crazy fantasies.

  The way he spent the rest of the day proved him right. Spencer made sandwiches while on autopilot. He hardly knew what anyone said to him or how he answered. At one point he realized that Greg never told him the new roommate's name. Spencer spent all day trying to guess it. While making one more grilled chicken sandwich, he decided that he looked like a Liam. With those pretty brown eyes and brown hair and all those muscles, he was definitely the Liam of Spencer's dreams.

  When he was done with work, Spencer didn't even consider stopping anywhere on his way home. Usually he might grab something for dinner, browse a bookstore or stop by Marlene's place, but not today. There was a new roomie waiting at home for him, hopefully. If it turned out that he was out, Spencer was going to be very unhappy.

  Rushing home and then taking the stairs two at a time, he arrived at his apartment door a little out of breath. His hand on the doorknob, he took a moment to breathe. He told himself that the roomie might not even be home. Still in a state of high excitement, he walked in.

  There he was, the new roomie in all his masculine glory. He was surrounded by boxes and wearing ear buds attached to the phone in his back pocket. Busy listening to music and tilting the boxes so he could read the handwritten labels, he didn't notice Spencer as he entered.

  Taking advantage of the opportunity, Spencer had himself a good long stare. To make sure that the man was real and not a figment of his imagination, Spencer looked for imperfections. There was a scar from a cut on his chin and a bruise on his forearm. His eyebrows were a little too bushy, but that was just quibbling. Aha, his ears were uneven. The left one stuck out a little more.

  As Spencer was noticing that about him and memorizing everything else, the new roomie turned. Those sweet brown eyes looked up at him and there was the smile from this morning, just as sunny and bright. This man wasn't exactly the one he had envisioned while he jerked off in the shower. He was better. He was real. His name probably wasn't even Liam. It might be Bob or something.

  "What's your name?" Spencer blurted out. Then he offered his hand over the boxes that separated him from his roommate. "Sorry. I'm Spencer. I should have introduced myself when I saw you this morning, but I was rushing to work," he said apologetically and not at all truthfully. That morning, he didn't even think of introducing himself. He was too busy ogling him and trying to decide if he was real or a dream.

  The roommate took out the earbuds and paused whatever he had been listening to as he took Spencer's hand. "Hi. Nice to meet you. I'm Troy." There was that wonderful, mellow voice that Spencer remembered. It sounded even better while his hand was squeezed in Troy's strong grip.

  "Troy. OK. Nice to meet you too," Spencer said, trying to get used to the idea that his Liam was actually named Troy. Not a bad name. He could learn to live with it. Troy did have a nice way of speaking, his voice low and pleasant, kind of intimate but without trying to be. He seemed very casual and easygoing. Also his eyes were sweet and smiling as he looked at Spencer, who was staring at him like an idiot.

  "Sorry. I'm kind of tired and spacey. I've been making sandwiches all day at Breadworks and didn't get to eat anything," Spencer told him.

  Troy didn't think that made a lot of sense. "How do you make sandwiches all day and come home hungry?" he wondered as he checked inside one of his boxes.

  "Being around food all day, it kind of takes away my appetite." That was the truth, but he didn't tell him that he was in a rush to get home after work and that's why he didn't stop anywhere. "You want anything? I make a mean sandwich. You could even say I'm a professional," Spencer said as he headed into the small kitchen.

  "No. I had something with Greg earlier. Thanks," Troy said.

  Since Troy didn't want anything, Spencer didn't feel like making anything for himself either. He grabbed a pink and red apple from the bowl and bit into it. He sat on a bar stool and watched Troy unpacking.

  "Sorry about having my stuff all over," he said to Spencer. "If I opened up the boxes in my room, I wouldn't be able to turn around much less put anything away."

  Spencer was ready to tell him to go ahead and move into his room. Instead he told Troy not to worry about it. "I don't mind a little mess. It's Greg you have to worry about."

  "He sounds like he runs a tight ship," Troy said with a smile.

  "Oh, he does." As Spencer munched on the apple and washed it down with a bottle of iced tea, he noticed that a lot of the boxes were empty and Troy was starting to take the last of his stuff to his room.

  Troy went in and out of his bedroom a few times as Spencer watched him. He just couldn't help himself. He was mesmerized by the ripples of his muscles as he moved. All that strength packed into one body was a beautiful sight. Spencer could watch him move for hours, but he should probably offer to help since he was done eating and the core from his apple was going in the trash.

  "Can I give you a hand with anything?" Damn, he shouldn't have put it like that. Now he was picturing giving Troy a very thorough handjob. As Troy turned to him, Spencer had to try and look perfectly innocent.

  Standing in the middle of the living room, Troy now took stock of all the cardboard boxes littering the place. "I'm not sure what to do with the empty boxes."

  That was something Spencer could deal with. "I'll help you collapse them and carry them down. If you put them by the curb, they'll be gone by tomorr
ow. Someone is always moving around here with all these little apartment buildings up and down the street."

  "This is a nice area," Troy said as they started on the boxes. "Other places I was looking at weren't like this. With what I make, I thought I would have to live in some converted closet over a meth lab. This place is not bad at all."

  "Here all you have to worry about are the roommates," Spencer said as he kicked in the sides of one box.

  "You and Greg? You guys seem all right," Troy said and gave him one of his disarming smiles. One more like that and Spencer was going to get addicted to them.

  Once the boxes were flattened and leaning against a lamppost in front of their building, Spencer and Troy went back up. To his credit, Spencer was a gentleman and didn't make sure to follow Troy on the way up the stairs so he could stare at his perfect ass. He deserved a medal.

  Spencer looked around the living room for any sign of the earlier mess. He didn't want Troy to get in trouble with Greg on his first day. "Looks good," he said to Troy after checking. "Now Greg will not wring your neck."

  "Thanks for the help," Troy told him and went to his bedroom.

  Since he didn't close his bedroom door, Spencer felt it was OK to bug him and went to stand in his doorway. Troy sat down in the middle of his room with books, DVDs, Blu-rays and games piled around him in messy stacks. Spencer also noticed some weights in the corner.

  "Doesn't look too bad in here either," Spencer said peering in at him. His room was already pretty organized. It was the same furniture that had been there before, but now it didn't look so impersonal with Troy's stuff filling it.

  "I had a half day at work, just orientation on my first day, so I managed to get most of it done," Troy said.

  "Except for those," Spencer pointed out some framed sketches leaning against the wall.