“Yeah, I can’t control myself around you, Nick,” I confess, sliding closer.
He plunges a sneaky hand under the covers and strokes my thigh, making my breath catch. “Then don’t. You wanna lose it?”
Yes.
I crawl on top of Nick and hover my mouth over his, smiling in a way I hope is sexy. “I do. Because I’m apparently a horny fuck who can’t get enough of you.”
Nick snickers into the kiss, smiling through it in a way that’s too infectious. “I'm still tired,” he says after a few minutes. “Are you okay if we cuddle for a bit instead?”
Is he being serious? He just…threw that out there all casual and random, like I'd have any hope of resisting his offer.
This is why I have, orhad, a no-repeats rule—my willpower is in short supply as it is, but the more time I spend with a guy, the more chances he has to dig into every last one of my weaknesses.
“You read my mind,” I say, sliding into his inviting arms.
The second I do, that's it for me. He tightens and locks mybody in place, all strong and warm, and it's a good thing I enjoy having my face buried in his neck because there's no way I'm moving.
Staying still in Nick’s arms is a recipe for catching feelings, so I try to conjure up some kind of conversation.
“Are you going home for Thanksgiving?” I ask, and when Nick hesitates, I expect him to make a face, but he shrugs instead.
“Nah. My parents and I haven’t spoken in years.”
The casual way he dropped that, as though I’d asked for his take on chip flavors, almost gets me to follow up. He’s just so…nonchalant about it?—
“They don’t accept me being gay. Well, it’s mostly my dad.” He huffs out a laugh that isn’t nearly as strained as I would have thought, not with the way this conversation is going. “I told them when I graduated high school, Dad threw a fit, left my mom, and they both blamed me for what happened. Haven’t talked to them since.”
“Jesus.” I can’t manage anything more, because what the hell would I even say? “I’m?—”
“Don’t be sorry for me,” Nick says with a chuckle. “I’ve made peace with it, and I’m happier now. That just means I’ve had to tag along with a friend and crash their family gatherings.”
I laugh, more to help defuse the tension, not because what he said was remotely funny. “But not this year?”
“Nah. I’m staying for Thanksgiving and Christmas. It’s either that, or third-wheel my coupled-up friends. Are you also staying over winter break?”
“Sorry, I’m going home.”
“Fuck me,” Nick drawls, and I fight the urge to take him at face value. “Can I come with you?”
“I don’t see why not,” I joke. My parents technically said I can bring a friend whenever, but I don’t think they were being serious, either. It’s a twenty-hour trip with at least one connection, and then there’s the whole visa question. There’s just no way in hell?—
“Are you for real?”
“I—”
He can’t be serious.
But instead of backpedaling, I’m imagining dragging his sorry ass onto a plane, taking him around, and showing him where I grew up. I never thought I’d be in a position to do that with anyone here, but now that the idea’s snuck into my head, my god, it’s appealing.
“I am,” I continue, trying to keep the excitement out of my voice. “My parents would be cool.”
“I’m so down.” He smiles, but he hesitates, maybe when he realizes I’m not returning it as enthusiastically as he is.
Our friendship-turned-whatever-this-is has mostly consisted of me pursuing Nick first, so I’m not about to keep that trend going.
He tilts his head. “Invite me again, so I know for sure.”
“Hey, I already did.” The last thing I want is to come across as an overeager little fuck, so I try to play it cool.
