Page 34 of Josh’s Play

What in the actual fuck? I thought back over the past semester. Had it really been since before school started that I’d been with someone? Shit. I was usually out all the time, with Devon or on Guys4Guys. When I thought back over the past semester, sure there were still nights out with Devon and our other friends, and much of my free time had been taken up by my stupid fucking finger. But other than that, it was time with my family, including baseball games with Hunter and … time spent with Campbell: in class, watching him play, in our little study room in the library.

Holy fucking fuck. I’d been spending all of my time either with or thinking about one guy, and without even realizing it, I’d put my sex life on hold. Had I put it on hold for him?

I couldn’t even look at him. That adorable face, those imploring puppy-dog eyes, that floppy fucking hair. I wanted to climb him, again, like we’d done before we were so rudely interrupted by the pizza delivery.

Of course, he was having doubts. I couldn’t let my confusion get in the way of Campbell working through all of his big feelings. Because my feelings, they couldn’t mean anything, right? I was just busy, and injured, and preoccupied with a particularly interesting class. My feelings had never been big before, they’d always been here, now, more! They’d never, ever been you. They’d never been anything when it came to the guys I’d hooked up with.

So what the fuck did I want from Campbell Ryan, and why the fuck, in that moment, was my heart pounding so hard it was practically painful?

I had to get out of my own head and focus on the man in front of me. This whole hooking up thing was all about him, after all. And if he decided he wasn’t into it, then I fucking well knew another way to get out of my head. I clung to my phone, which was sitting in the pouch pocket of Campbell’s sweatshirt. Guys4Guys always came through for me, and it could again if Campbell decided to leave.

My heart pounded against my rib cage.

“I don’t know what I want, Josh.” He leaned on the desk, slouching, his legs out before him, one hand brushing through his hair before he used both to support his weight.

“I know, Cam.”

“It’s supposed to be easy.”

“No, it’s not.”

I stood then and walked toward him. His posture put us eye to eye, and I straddled his legs so that we were face-to-face. I tried to get out of my own head and think about Cam and what he was going through.

“Sex is complicated and messy and wonderful. I can’t protect you from the complicated and messy parts, but I can try not to contribute to them. I don’t want to make it worse.” If I could keep my pesky feelings from getting in the way, that was.

I kissed him gently, feeling odd not to have to stretch up and disappointed because it meant Campbell didn’t have to scoop me up and hold me again. I caressed his cheek and brushed my lips to his but kept my distance otherwise.

When I pulled us apart, I dropped my hand to where his was grasping the edge of the desk, tension evident in the white-knuckled grip he held it with.

“Come here.” I wrapped my hand around his and stepped back, walking toward my bed. No surprise, he yanked his hand away.

“Trust me?” I begged. He stared into my eyes for one beat, then another before he found the answer he was looking for and nodded.

I quickly threw some laundry on the floor and straightened my bedding before climbing on. I slid all the way over to the wall, propped up my pillows, and patted the bed. Campbell kicked off his shoes and followed me, leaning back against the wall, my pillows for support, his arms crossed in front of him. I lifted the one closest to me and tucked myself under his arm, my head on his chest. He didn’t fight me, but his arm rested over my shoulders without tightening around me or drawing me in.

“What was it like growing up on a farm?”

Campbell started to talk about his parents, his little brothers, and the farm they ran. I was surprised to find that the farm was organic, and that his parents were trying to drum up agritourism.

I popped my head up to look at him. “Really?”

“Really. You sound surprised.”

“I guess that’s not how I pictured it.”

“The farm? No? How did you picture it?”

I wanted to tread lightly and not say like something out of the nineteenth century because you think you have to be in the closet, so I dodged the question.

“I guess I didn’t ever really picture it. Other than that it must be beautiful, based on the picture of you and your brothers in front of that pond with all those tall trees.”

He finally tightened his grip around me and drew me closer to him, encouraging me to rest my head on his chest once again. “It is really beautiful and a lot of hard work. I think you’d like it.”

“You do?” I could feel him shrug. He didn’t respond, so I lifted my head again to see him blushing. It was his turn to change the subject.

“You don’t have any family photos in here?”

“Yeah, I guess it never occurred to me to print out pictures and hang them up.” I sat up and wiggled until Campbell made space for me to turn and sit facing him. I crossed my legs, and one draped over his thigh. I could feel the firmness of his muscles, a reminder of his dedication to his sport.