Page 96 of Line Change

I stand there listening, half expecting him to open it again and ask if Ben was naked too, or if he imagined that part. The lock stays still.

I should tell him to keep his mouth shut. Bobby talks too much when he’s excited, but he’s not an asshole. He knows the difference between something funny and something that isn’t his to spread around the locker room. Chasing him into the hall will also make this look more like a disaster than it already does.

Something hits the floor in my bedroom.

Ben.

I leave the coffee where it is and head down the hall.

He’s found his shirt. It’s inside out, and he has his head through the neck while one arm fights the wrong opening. His pants are on the bed. He grabs them as soon as he sees me, gets one foot in, and nearly goes down when the fabric catches.

I step toward him to get his arm free. Ben jerks away before I can touch the shirt.

I’ve seen Ben flattened into the boards and come up calmer than this. His eyes keep jumping toward the open bedroom door as though Bobby might be standing there next.

“It’s fine,” I say. “We’re okay.”

“He fucking saw us.” Ben gets his other leg into his pants but can’t find the waistband under the shirt. “How did he even get in? Why was he here?”

“I gave him a key.”

Ben jerks the shirt down. One shoulder seam sits halfway across his chest. “You gave Bobby a key?”

“For emergencies. He ran out of Monster.”

“He’s going to tell everyone.” He drags his pants up and leaves them open. “Holy shit. They saw the mark on you, and now he sees me here like that? They’re going to know.”

“Bobby’s not going to tell anyone.”

“You don’t know that.”

I do, or I think I do. It doesn’t matter while Ben is looking around the room like he needs another way out. “Calm down,” I say.

His head snaps toward me. “Don’t fucking tell me to calm down.”

I should take it back. Ben is scared, and Bobby appearing in my kitchen with no warning would make anyone lose their shit.

But three minutes ago Ben had his hand around my cock. Last night he let me hold him open and fuck him while he looked me in the eyes. Now he’s trying to get away from me so fast he can’t put on a shirt.

It hurts too much to be patient.

“Would it be the end of the world?” I ask.

Ben stops fighting with his zipper. “What?”

“If Bobby knew.”

I know it’s the wrong thing as soon as his face changes. His panic closes into something harder. “I’m straight.”

My mouth goes dry.

I stand there in an old T-shirt and sweatpants with his come probably still dried somewhere on my skin. There are bruises on his thighs from my hands. My bed behind him smells like both of us.

“No one says you have to be gay to hook up with a guy,” I say. My voice sounds normal, which is a fucking miracle. “You don’t have to call yourself anything.”

“I’m straight.” He gets the zipper up and waves one hand between us. “This is some weird exception. I’m trying to figure my shit out.”

Some weird exception.