Page 42 of My Unfinished Heart

“What do I mean?” I ask, wondering.

“You mean like—do you make me nervous. Like whether I feel safe or not.”

He’s right.

“And?” I ask.

“I do feel safe. And nervous. But I’m not uncomfortable.”

“I wasn’t expecting that detailed of an answer. I feel like I should revise mine.”

“You can if you want,” he says.

“Ask me again.”

“Am I making you uncomfortable?” he asks, his voice lower, the words nearly whispered. Our unusual connection plunges its hooks into me. I want him so much, I’m suffocating.

“Very.”

“Why?”

My desire—my need—is a very real thing between us now. I’m still rock hard. Baggy jeans not withstanding, he’s shifted since I sat down. Now, his body is tucked into mine so completely, the slight pressure of his lower back on my erection has me pulsing. There’s no mistaking it. I take a deep breath. “I think you might already know the answer to that.”

With a measured hesitation, he asks, “Should I go back to bed?”

I know how to answer that, but I don’t want to say it. I do anyway. “You should.”

In another world—some parallel universe, he gets up and walks away. But in my kitchen, in this universe, tonight, his body melts back into mine. The pressure is now everywhere. My gut, my heart, my head, my cock. I put down the scissors, and my arms wrap around him like it’s nothing. Like it’s what they’ve been meant for all along. “Tristan…” I say, but it’s less word than it is a breath.

“Yeah?”

The world and all the rest of my thoughts fall away. In this universe, right now, it’s him, and it’s me, and we’re all that matters. “Can I take you out sometime?”

“Connor’s my best friend. And I’m moving to Houston in a few days,” he whispers.

“Just friends?” I ask because I guess I need an update.

“Yeah. Always. Archer…is this really happening?”

“Apparently not. Still seemed like it was worth asking.”

His head turns until his cheek is against my nose. I could kiss his face.

“You’re gay?” he asks.

“Bi.”

“Oh,” he says softly. “I didn’t know. I mean, I wasn’t sure. Still, it’s not a good idea.”

“I’ve had worse.”

I can feel him smile, the stretch of his skin against mine. My eyes close.

Is he safe?

I have no clue.

“One day, maybe?” I ask.