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Like a future.
With him.
“I don’t know,” I mutter. “I can’t cancel, can I?”
“You definitely can.”
“But Sem told me not to. He’s like pushing me toward Colin but then pulling me back to him. I’m so confused. Last night he broke into my apartment after I fell asleep and just held me.”
August shrugs his shoulders. “Okay, one, that’s fucking crazy, and two, don’t look at me for answers. I’ve got no idea how Sem’s brain works.”
I look around the room and softly say, “He’s still struggling with his sexuality. That’s a recipe for disaster, right? I mean, we haven’t even kissed yet and I don’t know what’s holding us back anymore. Does he not want to kiss me? Like, is sex with a man somehow okay, but kissing is too gay for him?”
“I have no clue, man. And you’ve been having sex with him for weeks but haven’t even kissed? That’s pretty messed up.”
“Ugh, I know. I don’t know what I’m doing with him, but…I don’t like it when he stays away. I miss him when he’s gone. I shouldn’t, but I do.”
“No shit,” August says, rubbing at his cheek. “Sounds like a mindfuck on both ends.”
I press my face into my hands and shake my head. “Oh, why did I get involved with him in the first place? I knew it was a bad idea, and I did it anyway. God, tell me what to do.”
“Prayer won’t help you now.”
I glower at my best friend and then place my forehead on the table. “I should just go out with Colin, huh? I mean, there’s no future with Sem, right? We are not compatible, at all.”
“You want a future with him?” August asks, and I shrug.
I swallow and feel my eyes sting a little. “I don’t know. I like him. More than I thought I would. He’s surprising in the best kinds of ways.”
August pats me on the back and then grabs half my sandwich, shoving it into his mouth. “Sounds like you have to figure shit out.”
“God, don’t I know it.”
My phone pings again, and I see Colin’s name on the screen, so I just turn my phone off. I don’t know what to do about this.
I worry myself sick about it until I get home from work later that evening and find Sem in my kitchen, his hair pulled back, and his jeans slung low on his hips.
Like he belongs there.
And instantly, I’m hard.
This is becoming a problem.
I clear my throat and ask, “Is that an apron?”
Sem glances over his shoulder and sweeps his eyes over me. “Hey, Maggie.”
I adjust myself and move toward him. “Are you cooking?”
“Yeah.”
“I didn’t know you could do that.”
Sem arches an eyebrow at me, grabs a beer and takes a long swig. “And why wouldn’t I know how to cook?”
“I dunno. You just look like you barbeque or something.”
“I love barbequing, but my mom made sure we each knew how to cook too. Told us we weren’t going to grow up to be useless assholes.”
