Ittookaweekand four nights of gaming and hangouts for us to go back to normal. Like nothing happened.
The relief is out of this world.
I was sure that I’d fucked everything up. I haven’t even reflected on the fact that I had sex with a guy. It was so secondary to everything else. And I’m not sure that sex under the influence of fucking Molly even counts, so—I mean, am I bisexual now? Because I let a guy suck me offonetime? And when I was high as a kite?
I find that hard to believe.
People do all kinds of weird stuff when they are high. Or drunk. And I can usually handle that pretty well. I smoke weed from time to time, and nothing even remotely close to something like this has ever happened before, so, no. I don’t think I’m bi.
Hell, I haven’t even looked at a guy in that way before, and I haven’t started since. It’s been two weeks since that night, and I don’t look at Seth any other way than I always have, either.
So, once doesn’t count.
“Why’s your fridge all empty? The fuck is this?” I say, reaching for a jar. “Pickles, Seth? The only thing in your fridge is a jar of pickles, and—” I reach for another jar. “What even is this?”
“It’s eye pads, you caveman. They’re Lou’s,” he says, snatching them from me and putting them back in the door. “I cleaned out the fridge while waiting for you to drag your lazy ass here. You’re so slow,” he frowns with a shake of his head.
“I’m slow because I’m hungry,” I state, rubbing my neck while taking another peek into the fridge like something might have magically appeared in the last five seconds. It hasn’t.
“Alright, we can order something,” he says, closing the door before he rubs his hands together and places them on my neck. “What are you up for?”
I groan, dropping my forehead against the fridge, shoulders relaxing as he starts kneading. He hasn’t done this since beforethatnight, which means I haven’t felt another person’s touch on my body in two weeks.
It’s fucking heaven now.
I’m basically living celibate, and I’m so touch-starved, I feel like my skin lights up where he touches me.
“Kade?”
“Mm.”
“What do you want?” His voice is low, and his breath warm against my skin, making the hair on my neck stand up and my brain short-circuit.
Making connections it has no business making.
Thinking this is something it’s not.
That Seth’s question means something it doesn’t.
Sending signals to the parts of my body that I have no control over.
I place a clenched fist on the counter next to the fridge, squeezing my eyes shut, but mind control has never worked before, and it doesn’t work now.
“Am I too rough?” Seth’s voice is low and hoarse like it always is. I don’t trust my own voice, so I just shake my head. I’m not dressed for this. I’m wearing sweats, for fucks sake! They’re basically catnip for people foaming at the mouth for a dick print.
Fuck!
“What do you want, Kade?” he breathes, close to my ear, and I lose it. I turn around and meet Seth’s blue eyes, before they travel down my body and stop at my crotch.
He inhales. “You’re hard.”
I let my own gaze fall down his frame, stopping at the bulge in his sweats. “So are you.” My voice is all gravelly.
My eyes lock onto his, and he licks his bottom lip.
“Are we gonna do something about it?” he mumbles.
I half snort, my breath shaky. “Like what? Jerk off together?”
