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Our web was massive and tangled. I had no idea how it would shake out. But in the meantime, I captured beautiful pictures of Adam’s feet.
The tightness in my chest loosened as I cataloged the angles and adjusted the shutter speed. I had proof of them now, something to refer back to even if our relationship ended.
My gut quieted as I put the lens cap back on and nodded. No matter what, I had the pictures, so it was going to be okay.
***
We were backin the kitchen in nothing but boxers after yet another round of weirdly distant but intense sex, making bagel pizzas for dinner. I was nearly limp with exhaustion, and my balls ached from coming so many times. I hadn’t been so sore since Adam and I had first started messing around last fall.
Despite being confused and exhausted, the idea of more sex, of getting fucked again, of maybe even topping him like he’d suggested, made my cock twitch and my heart race a little faster. Andthatmade me question all kinds of things about myself.
I’d been raised to believe sex was supposed to be an expression of love—even in my mother’s books, the hero and heroine always “made love”—but evidently I was more than willing to have an orgasm with someone without being certain of my feelings.
In fact, the more the sex blotted out my anxiety, the better.
“Are you going to stop in and see Mo?” I asked.
“Nah, I just saw him a couple of weeks ago in Rome.” Adam drizzled sauce over the bagels I’d laid out on Mom’s most beat-up cookie sheets. “Besides, I’ve got to buy some stuff for my dorm room and help get Leslie settled in. There’s a lot to do. But man, I really don’t want to go. I’ve missed you so much. I just want to stay here with you.”
“I know.” I said, shifting uncomfortably as I passed him the shredded mozzarella. “It’s okay. I’m just glad you’re home.”
Lies.
“Next week, you’ll come down,” Adam said.
“If I can.”
“Just wait until you see the dorm room. It’s great. And we’ll have plenty of privacy. I promise.”
“Cool. Sounds good.”
But it didn’t. The thought of being trapped in a dorm room with him and Leslie made my chest ache like I couldn’t breathe. I needed to break the tension before I blurted out things I shouldn’t. Impulsively, I dipped my finger in the pizza sauce and smeared it across his chest.
Laughing, he lunged at me with a spoonful of sauce, dribbling it on my shoulder. He leaned in to lick it off, and I closed my eyes, savoring the sensation of his tongue on my skin. It was so much easier when we didn’t talk.
The phone rang.
Adam spilled more sauce over my chest and gave chase across the kitchen as I darted away to answer it. He shoved me against the wall by the phone, licked my neck, and tongued down to my nipple.
I answered breathlessly. “Hello?”
“Peter?”
Adam bit down on my nipple, and I gasped. He pulled me against him tighter, sucking harder.
“Hello? Peter?”
I shoved at Adam, a tidal wave of sick guilt flooding me. “Leslie, hey!”
Adam didn’t let go, but he stopped flicking my nipple with his tongue. My stomach turned over.
“Did Adam make it there okay? When he left the dorms this morning he said he’d call when he arrived. I figured you’d call if he didn’t get there, but then I realized you don’t have my number here and—”
I cut her off. “Yeah, Les. He’s right here. Hold on.”
Adam released my nipple, took the phone, and turned his back to me. “Hey, babe, did you have a good day? What? I said Imightcall when I got here.”
I sprinkled more cheese on top of the pizza bagels and began cutting up the jalapeño peppers I’d bought to add. As Adam’s voice grew more exasperated, I remembered eating pizza with the gang at Stefano’s one night after dancing at Tilt-a-Whirl. Windy and Minty had picked the jalapeño off their slices and plopped them onto Daniel’s. He’d eaten the peppers happily, his face growing red and shiny. Laughing, he’d rubbed his sweaty forehead on my shoulder, and I’d offered to let him use the other one too.
