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I’m of course talking about the second option, since the first would greatly need to be deleted, scratched, abolished! It has no chance of happening. Never.
“I’m sorry.”
I look down at my shoes, not sure if I’m supposed to leave him here, kiss him on the cheek, hug him or… His fingers rest on my chin and Corey pulls my face up to anchor his eyes in mine. His gaze probes me for a minute, certainly expecting a rejection from me, something. I say nothing, don’t move, obsessed with the feeling of warmth that spreads in my stomach at the thought of him kissing me. I want to. Why? I don’t know, with Corey it’s different, he’s different.
His lips land on mine with unprecedented softness. My stomach tightens. I grab his shirt, wanting to feel him closer to me. His mouth remains on the surface, becomes light, delicate. Then his hand slides along my throat, my hips, before coming to rest on my back. He pulls me to him, pressing my body against his chest. I warm up, feeling titillated by the softness of his gestures. I put my tongue into his mouth, demanding to takemore. Eager to receive more. To feel more.
His other hand presses above my buttocks before going down a little lower. His fingers caress me with reserve, as if he didn’t want to ruin the moment by being too enterprising, by rushing. Yet, I really want him to take what he wants, to kiss me like I were special, like he doesn’t even want to catch his breath. I need him to make me feel things, to turn my stomach, to make butterflies flutter, to make me vibrate. I run my hands to the back of his neck, ready to intensify our kiss, but footsteps behind us distract me and a voice rises. It’s hoarse, annoyed… and it’s coming to fuck everything up.
“Hands off!”
Damn it.
8
Nolan
A little earlier in the evening
“And things are going well with your roommates?”
I open the beer that Gabriel has just brought us, discreetly watching the hand he puts on Milo’s neck.
“It’s okay,” I say, shrugging my shoulders.
“You look thrilled.”
Milo wraps an arm around his boyfriend’s hips and pulls him closer. They both stare at me, as if they’re waiting for me to spill what’s on my mind. I’ve always been close to Milo, even though I met him in my first year of college. He fit perfectly into the inseparable trio that I formed with Leo and Edgar. So much so that during our second year, we moved in together, abandoning the apartment we rented with the guys near the university.
“Let’s say it’s different to live with a girl,” I say. “The bathroom, the stupid rules that Edgar imposes on us to prevent his sister from fucking guys in the apartment.”
“And then it’s Scarlett,” laughs Milo.
“Does it make any difference that it’s her and not someone else?” Gabriel asks, slightly confused.
“Let’s say that with Nolan, it’s a bit ‘I love you, me neither.’ I met her when she came to college last year, and they spent their time pissing each other off.”
“Lovely. Are you holding back a little crush, Jones?”
I choke on my beer and Gabriel bursts out laughing. Milo just watches me silently and raises an eyebrow.
“Yeah, I’d rather die than fuck Scarlett. Really, it would be like sleeping with mymother.”
Well, maybe not so extreme. But let’s just say I don’t even consider her sexually active, even though I suspect she’s held a dick before and may even know how to polish it very well. Ibite the inside of my cheek, stopping myself from going a little too far in my imagination. I’ve got some tendencies right now involving Scarlett and a dick, and it’s getting borderline weird.
“It has the merit of being clear,” giggles Gabe. “But tell yourself it could just as well have been Harriet.”
“No, it’s too early to move in together! I’ve only been dating her for six months, calm down!”
“All this to tell you that you’re in a good situation. Especially if you’ve all known this girl for years and she’s like your little sister, to you and Leo.”
“Besides, if Ed proposed it, it’s because he knows it can work,” Milo says.
“Yeah, in the meantime, that broke the roommate’s mood,” I mumble.
“Do you want something to eat?” Gabriel asks, straightening up, changing the conversation in a split second. “I’m going to make bruschetta.”
I get up in my turn, putting away the few notebooks that I have scattered on their coffee table. Their apartment is half the size of ours, but their living room is huge and ultra-bright. They live about ten minutes from us, so when Milo invited me to come and work with him on an assignment we have due at the end of the week, I jumped at the chance. It’s always better than hiding in the library. And it had been a few days since I had seen Gabriel.
