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And everything just sort of grinds to a halt.
Pretty sure my heart is failing.
All I can think is… Who is this guy?
And fuck if it doesn’t scare me a little bit.
Narrowing his eyes, Jeremy takes one step toward me, then another, and another, putting himself right in front of me. A sliver of space is all that keeps our chests from brushing.
My chest tightens, trapping my next breath in my lungs.
He searches between my eyes. “Out of everything that happened that day—that night…me kissing you back should be the least shocking thing. That I…I liked it.” His voice cracks, the first outward sign that he’s not as unaffected by this as he’s trying to be.
A short, rusty sound chokes out of him. Taking a small step back, he hangs his hand. “Why we’re even discussing that of all things, is?—”
“You did?” I murmur almost soundlessly. And yet he must hear it, because his words drop off immediately.
My chin quivers, and this time it has nothing to do with the cold.
His face scrunches up when he lifts it, and he shakes his head, drilling his gaze right into me. “Of course I did.”
Oh.
My throat works with a heavy swallow, and his attention flits down, homing in on my throat, like maybe he sensed it—heard it. And he lingers on it, mirroring my gulp with one of his own.
“I’m sorry,” I tell him.
Pain alights his eyes when they land back on mine.
“It shouldn’t have happened. Not like that. Not?—”
His brows crease. “It shouldn’t have happened at all.”
I press my lips together and give a short, jerky nod.
Right…
“You’re straight, Mason, for one. And?—”
“Am I?” I whisper before I can stop it.
At that, his eyes widen.
“You said it yourself,” I say with a shrug, feeling my neck burn. A short laugh escapes me, edged with a hint of hysteria. “I was hard. I got…I got turned on.”
And that wasn’t even the first time I got hard over a dude…
Over Jeremy.
My heart races at the reminder. It’s been years since I actually let myself think about that time…
And now it’s all I’ve been able to think about these last few weeks.
Tell him, a voice whispers.
“When’s the last time you had sex?” he throws out suddenly, putting a sickening halt to that idea.
Images from that same day I’d just been thinking about flash in my head. Black and pink bedding. Brown hair splayed over a pillow. Breathy moans, and soft fingers, and messy kisses.
