Page 33 of Josh’s Play

“No, thank you.”

“Good,” was all Josh said as he balled up the paper towels and tossed them in the general direction of a trash can under the desk. He missed. I was closer, so I scooped them up to toss them in, eyeing a used condom among the crushed energy-drink cans, snack-bar wrappers, and various other trash.

I remained standing. “Maybe this isn’t a good idea.”

Josh stood up quickly, looking concerned. My sweatshirt covered his thighs so completely that his shorts couldn’t be seen. It brought a smile to my eyes though I was too stressed out for it to completely take over my face.

“What?” He laughed at my reaction.

“It’s like a nightshirt. It looks cozy.”

Josh tucked his hands in the front pocket and preened. “It is, but I wouldn’t mind if you took it off me.” He stepped closer.

“Josh.” I could hear in my voice how I was pushing him away, again. I assumed he would lose patience with me at some point. Maybe I even hoped he would. Maybe that would make it easier to walk away.

Instead, he shoved his hands back in the front pouch and sat on the neatly made bed. “Sit,” he ordered. I thought about going back to the opposite bed but changed my mind and took the chair, keeping us far enough apart that we couldn’t touch but facing him head-on.

“Talk to me, Cam.”

“You shouldn’t be so patient with me.”

“You’d prefer I was a dick?”

I stood in frustration, the chair flying out behind me. “Yes! I don’t think I can do this, Josh. And it would be so much easier to walk away if you were a dick.”

“Sorry?”

I laughed at his questioning tone, and he joined in, and goddamn it, I hated how comfortable I was around him, and how much I loved laughing with him. The butterflies in my stomach loved it too.

“You remember what I said, right? You don’t have to rush this. You shouldn’t rush this. It just seems like something made you change your mind. Do you hate the way I eat pizza?”

“You’re adorable when you eat pizza, especially in that sweatshirt,” are the words that came out of my mouth in that moment when I was supposed to be remembering that he was a player who had used condoms in his trash and who would be happy to help me lose my virginity before he moved on to his next conquest.

I kept my gaze steady; what else could I do? The words were out there, I couldn’t take them back. Even if I tried to backtrack, he’d be able to call bullshit because there was no mistaking my tone. I was smitten.

“If it’s not the pizza and not the fact that your clothes fit me like a dress, then what is it? You can tell me, Cam. That’s what this is supposed to be, remember? Someone you can talk to.”

“The only person I can talk to.” We were silent for a very long time, and even as uncomfortable and awkward as it was, it still felt right, being there with him. He was giving me the space to formulate my thoughts. Eventually, he tilted his head.

“It’s the condom. In the trash,” I began. “I saw the stupid fucking condom, and I freaked out. And it’s dumb, I know, because the point of this, the whole point of this, is that you’re experienced, and that you like to play the field, and that you’d just be doing me this favor of screwing me or whatever, and then that would be it. You’d go back to your life, and I … I could go back in the fucking closet.” My hand found my hair and tugged at my bangs. I let them go as Josh responded.

“There’s a condom in the trash?” I peeked through my hair at a laughing Josh.

He shook his head. “Not mine.”

Our eyes met and locked, and it was my turn to remain quiet as it felt like Josh had something else to add.

He started counting on his fingers, then looked back up at me. “Well, fuck. I haven’t … It’s been ... Holy shit, have I not been with anyone since before school started? Yeah, no. The condom is definitely Dev’s. I did him a solid and slept at home the other night. And, yeah, it’s … it’s been a while for me. Since before we … since before I broke my finger.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh,” Josh agreed, like he hadn’t realized the last time he’d had sex until I’d made him think about it. He’d made it sound like his broken finger was to blame, but based on his tone and the look on his face, I wasn’t sure he believed that.

He was staring over my left shoulder, like he purposely wasn’t looking at me, or almost like he couldn’t look at me, which made me so much more uncomfortable. Causal fucking was supposed to be his domain, and yet I’d managed to weird him out.

Chapter Eleven

Josh