“So, no women at all?” He pushes back from the kitchen counter and moves toward me. I spread my legs open, and he stands between them, placing his palms on my thighs, stroking them up and down my jeans.
I exhale, my voice shaky when I speak. “Nope. Gay all the way.”
“Mm-hmm,” he hums, his hands traveling up my thighs, along my hips, and further up my sides. I dig my fingers into the hardwood, my body tingling everywhere he touches me. “Did you have a boyfriend in college? Did you go steady? Did he give you his frat ring?”
“Fuck you,” I tease back, sliding off the counter, wrapping my fingers around his throat. “Yes, I had a boyfriend in college. Jealous?” Pulling him in, I slam my lips against his. He laughs into my mouth, but it soon spills into a needy moan as he melts against me, clinging to me. I love how pliant he is and how he just goes with it. How much he wants me. It gives me this sense of power I haven’t felt in a long time. It’s almost like that feeling when you cross the finish line first, and you realize the other runners were nowhere near catching up with you. Like you’re on top of the world.
“Fuck. Your mouth,” he groans, then plunges his tongue inside. I grab his ass and pull him closer as I suck on his tongue, tasting him again. I can’t taste myself anymore, which I kind of hate. I want him to taste like me all the fucking time. “Love your fucking mouth,” he pants against my lips, his eyes dazed with newfound arousal. His blunt fingernails dig into my shoulders. “Love how strong you are, how hard. Such a fucking turn on.”
There’s that excessive talking again, only this time, his words don’t annoy me. No, they build me up, lighting me from the inside. I want them. I think I need them.
“You like me fucking your mouth, Jett?” he rasps. I nod my head frantically. Wes may not have been with a guy before, but it’s like his body instinctively knows what to do.
Eventually, we pull apart, panting, swaying against each other.
“You’re a good kisser,” I blurt lamely.
He frowns, then smiles. “Was that a compliment? Really? Jared ‘Jett’ Cordier just gave me a fucking compliment?” He bats his eyelashes, swooning against me.
“You’re ridiculous,” I say, smiling like an idiot. My jaw aches from it, and there’s a lightness in my chest that I’ve missed. I haven’t felt this relaxed in a long time.
“Probably.” He leans in and presses a chaste kiss against my chin. “So, tell me about Mr. College Dream Guy.” Shit, I thought he’d let it go.Dream guy? If only Wes knew how Anthony shattered all my dreams of a shared future.
I swallow, breathing through the dull ache building in my chest. “There’s nothing to tell. We dated in college, but it didn’t work out.”
“What happened?”
I ease Wes away from me and move toward the living room, my back to him as I continue. “Nothing happened. Just life, I guess. We wanted different things.” I can’t tell him. It’s still too raw and painful—a barely healed wound. I’m afraid that if I go there, if I prod at it, it’ll burst wide open and I’ll break right along with it. I turn to face him. “What about you? Did you have a girlfriend in college?”
Wes smiles, plopping onto the couch and resting his head back against the pillows. “There were a few, but nothing serious.” He digs his teeth into his bottom lip, then pats the seat next to him. “Come sit.” Instead of sitting next to him, I sit on the other end. Wes rolls his eyes and groans. “Fuck, you’re a lot of work, Jett.” He reaches for me, wrapping his fingers aroundmy arm, then pulls me closer. I almost fall into his lap before steadying myself, leaning against his shoulder. He has no idea how right he is. How big a mess I am.
“So I guess I’m bi,” he says, like it’s nothing more than mentioning his favorite food.
“Maybe.”
“What do you mean,maybe? I just blew a dude. If that doesn’t make me bi, I don’t know what does.”
I shrug. “It’s a spectrum. Like, you could be pan, too.”
“Pan?”
“You don’t have to put a label on your sexuality right now.” I mean that. This is something he has to figure out in his own time. He might not be freaking out right now, but once everything settles, he might have a reaction to it or second thoughts.
“Sure, okay.” He tries to suppress a yawn, but I’m feeling the fatigue pulling at me, too. Not just physically, but emotionally. I’ll probably be a mess tomorrow, replaying everything that happened tonight a hundred times. But questioning isn’t the same as regretting. I don’t regret tonight. It felt good.Ifelt good, better than I have in a long time. I don’t know what it is about Wes, but somehow he manages to pull me out of my head.
He smiles and pats my thigh. “I should get going. I had a really good time tonight.”
“Me too. It was… fun. I liked your friend.”
“He liked you, too.” He gets up from the couch, throws on his shirt, and I trail after him to the door. He lingers, then bumps my shoulder. “You’re not gonna be an asshole to me again next time we see each other, are you?”
I shake my head. “No, I’m not gonna be an asshole,Wes.” I deliberately pronounce his name very clearly. No more Wilson. At the end of the day, whatever happens between us, it’ll be niceto have someone like Wes in my life. He seems like someone who’d be a really good friend.
“Good.” He opens the door, and when he’s halfway out, he murmurs, “Because I don’t think you are.”
I don’t say anything to that. When he’s gone, I rest my forehead against the closed door, listening to his footsteps receding down the hallway, then the faint ping of the elevator. I stand like that long after he’s gone, letting the darkness settle around me. My body aches with the aftermath of tonight, but in a good way. Maybe I’ll actually sleep tonight.
Part of me wanted to ask him to stay. To feel his eyes on me just a little longer, his occasional touch. To prolong the feeling of peace. Maybe next time.
