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"If you want me to leave and give you space, I will, but I'd prefer to stay with you."
That made no sense. “Aren’t you disgusted? I didn’t know straight guys were okay with rubbing dicks with other dudes,” I sneered, reverting to my default defensive state.
The fucker smirked at me. “Well, considering my dick is an equal opportunity player, I actually don’t mind. I’m surprised you didn’t know that, since it’s not exactly a secret. But if you’re not comfortable with me being here, I’ll leave you alone. I don’t want to pressure you.”
Maybe I’d misread the situation and Gray’s motives for me staying here were entirely different to my first assumption?
Except, stupidly I couldn’t find it in me to care right now. I should have been pissed, wanting him as far away from me as possible. Instead my traitorous mouth whimpered, "Please stay."
"I want to take things slow, Colt. I want to give us a real chance. But I'm just going to put it out there because I don't think you noticed, and I don't want there to be any confusion between us. I liked feeling you pressed up against me as much as you did."
"What do you mean?"
"This," Grayson said at the same time he laced his fingers with mine and lowered them enough that my knuckles brushed against a hard bulge in his pants.
A gasp escaped my lips. Of all the things I'd prepared for him to say or do, that sure as hell hadn't been it. Then, just as quickly, he moved my hand away and up to his mouth. He pressed a feather-light kiss to the back of my hand, and the intimate gesture caused a rush of air to leave my lungs.
My mind started racing, retracing all our moments together.
So, Grayson was bi. Was that why I was here? To be his convenient live-in fuck buddy?
The idea of surrendering my body for shelter felt like a damning compromise. I was unsure if I had what it took to do it. I didn't know how to feel about the idea.I should have hated it. But, I could also admit that I'd never found anyone, man or woman, attractive like I did him. And then I had to consider that rejecting him could be an equally precarious situation; either way I was trapped in uncertainty, teetering on the precipice of conflicting desires.
What the fuck was wrong with me?
Gently, Grayson rolled us until his solid body covered mine completely. Never had our size difference been more obvious than at this moment, and to my surprise, I absolutely adored the feeling of being held down by him. If anyone else tried this, I'd probably have frozen with panic, but with Grayson, an innate sense of comfort washed over me. I may not trust his motives but somehow I knew he would take care of me, that he’d be gentle for my first time. A lot wouldn’t, so at least I had that to be thankful for. And if I were to be honest, it might be exactly what I wanted. What I craved.
But I was probably being delusional. Men like Grayson didn’t really exist. It must be an act that would slip the moment I gave it up for him. Then the guilt reappeared, for daring to think the worst of him. My mind sprang back and forth between judging him on his own actions and those of every other man I’d encountered, an absolute clusterfuck of confusion, dread and hope.
Rough fingertips grazed my cheeks, causing my eyelids to flutter. Glancing up shyly, the look on Grayson’s face stole my breath. I’d expected lust, heat. Yet, his face told an entirely different story. He looked at me as if he were in awe. Which only served to confuse me further. Attraction I could understand; anything more than that terrified me.
“W-What’s happening here?” I asked tentatively.
“From the first moment I saw you, I wanted to know you, Colt. And even though it’s only really been a day, I can see just how amazing you are.”
“So you want to f-fuck me?” I asked, hating that my voice wavered. I refused to let him know the idea frightened me but I also needed confirmation, so the stupid flutter of hope in my chest could be extinguished.
"God, no!" he blurted out, his head shaking emphatically. My stomach dropped and I couldn’t explain why I felt sick at his denial. Then he paused, taking in the hurt that must be written all over my face, and quickly amended, “I mean, yes, I want to. You’re gorgeous. But I just meant, not this very moment. Like, I didn’t come into your bed tonight for… that. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have grabbed your hand like that. I just wanted you to know your reaction to me isn’t one-sided. But I also want more than just something physical with you, Colt. There's this inexplicable pull, and I can't explain it exactly, but I know I want to be with you, in whatever way you'll let me," he concluded, his sincerity echoing in the air.
"But why?" I asked, my skepticism evident. "We're practically strangers, and every time we've exchanged words, I've been a downright asshole to you."
"Hmm, well, call it my unique interpretation, but I would've sworn you were flirting," he retorted with a sly grin.
"No, I absolutely wasn't, you dumbass!" I retorted, futilely attempting to shove him away, acutely aware I faced better odds of winning the lottery.
"You're doing it right now," he remarked, his crooked smile halting me in my tracks. How had I overlooked the fact that Grayson possessed the most alluring dimples I'd ever encountered?
My arousal resurfaced, but I needed Grayson to clarify some things for me. It baffled me how a man I'd berated on multiple occasions and now depended on (not to mention, one who was completely out of my league) could see value in me when not even those biologically programmed to love me had deemed me worthy.
"You didn't answer my question," I whispered, swallowing hard and redirecting my gaze, apprehensive about what his response might entail.
"I told you, Colt, I've been drawn to you since the first moment I laid eyes on you. Initially, I couldn't pinpoint why. Then, I heard you sing, and it captivated me. You captivate me. Honestly, I still can't fathom how I can feel so intensely for you when I barely know you. Yet, through your music, I feel like I know who you are. You're an extraordinary person whom I'd consider myself fortunate to call mine. You exude strength, but the pain in your voice is undeniable. You're silently pleading for someone to care for you, even if admitting it feels like a vulnerability, and my instinct is telling me that I'm destined to be that person. I want to be that person for you. I want it with every fiber of my being."
I lay there, grappling with the avalanche of emotions triggered by Grayson's heartfelt confession. The words were poetic, seeming almost absurd coming out of the mouth of an eighteen year old football player, but perhaps were sincere in his eyes. Yet, in my life, trust was a commodity as scarce as rain in a desert. A lifetime of being discarded like garbage had etched a cynical outlook into the fibers of my being.
"Hey," he uttered gently, perhaps sensing my internal turmoil. His eyes held sympathy, a genuine warmth that defied the usual pity I despised. "I understand that trust takes time, but can you give me a chance to prove I can treat you how you deserve to be treated? Is that okay with you?"
Despite the cautionary voice in my mind, my heart somersaulted at his words. Grayson had a knack for breaching my defenses, making me trust him against my better judgment. Powerless against the currents of chemistry between us, I merely nodded, emotion choking my ability to speak.
