“G-give me a minute.”
“Okay.” I reminded myself that Gale wasn’t a typical hookup. He might have shown up, but he’d also been skittish about crossing lines.
“I’m not saying no,” he continued.
“You’re allowed to.” The point seemed to require reiteration.
“I know. I… I like it when you touch me. A lot. I… want to tell you something first.”
“I’m all ears. Can I touch you while you tell me if I promise to keep it PG-13?”
His nod was barely perceptible in the dark.
Cautiously, I brushed a finger under the hem of his T-shirt, glancing them over the warm skin beneath. “It’s hard to be this close andnottouch you. Is this okay?”
Gale didn’t say yes, but he didn’t pull away or tell me to stop. He closed his eyes, and for a few minutes, I brushed the same spot, savoring the silky hair on the small patch of skin between his navel and the top of his sleep pants. His stomach quivered with each pass.
When he seemed comfortable, I moved my entire hand under his shirt. I smoothed it around to his back, tracing the dips and curves of his spine while listening to the unevenness of his breathing.
He lay so still and quiet, I wasn’t sure what to think.
“Gale,” I sing-songed. “I thought you wanted to talk.”
“I don’t think I can with you touching me. It scrambles my brain.”
“Do you want me to stop?”
“No… Maybe. No.Ack, I don’t know.” He whined.
I chuckled and took pity, removing my hand and feathering my knuckles over his cheek instead. “Talk. I’ll keep my hands to myself.”
“You must think I’m pathetic.”
“Not at all. Your innocence is fucking arousing.”
“That’s not a compliment.”
“Why not?”
He squirmed, and his tone grew serious. “Are you messing with me? Am I a conquest or something? Did someone put you up to this?”
“What?”
“Why am I here, Ozrik? Why are you even… paying attention to me?”
I propped myself on an elbow and peered at Gale in the dark, wishing I could see him better. “Where is this coming from? What are you talking about?”
“My innocence arouses you. I don’t know if this is real or a sick game.”
“I shouldn’t have said that. Gale—”
“I’m not your type. It makes no sense, unless you’re—”
“What are you talking about? My type? Are you serious?”
“Yes. You go for more outgoing people. Popular. Experienced… Out.”
“How the fuck do you know what type of people Igo for? You don’t know me.”
