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He nodded, just once, staring blankly into the distance, and I realised that his body was beginning to tense up beneath me. My stomach churned. Was he regretting it? It had seemed like he’d been really into it, but now I wasn’t so sure.
What should I do? I eased myself up, letting his softening cock slip out of me, leaving me feeling empty and a little sore. I’d definitely be feeling it tomorrow. I fumbled around for the box of tissues that he kept beside his bed and placed it next to him before I began cleaning myself up, unsure if he would welcome me touching him.
The bed shifted, and then Ander was climbing off, disposing of the condom in his wastepaper basket, keeping his back to me. He walked across to his desk and braced his forearms against the edge, staring out of the window, his shoulders tense.
“Elliot.” His voice was low and hoarse. “I want you to know that what we just did was…” He paused, gripping the edge of his desk so hard that his knuckles turned white.
“Was?” I whispered shakily.
“Was fucking perfect. I think…fuck.” Breaking off, he brought one of his hands up, rubbing it across his face. “I don’t want you to take this the wrong way, but I need a bit of time on my own now.”
Oh,no. I swallowed hard around the sudden lump that had come into my throat. Scrambling off the bed, I hunted around for my clothes, gathering them into a pile as quickly as I could, only stopping to yank on my boxer briefs. My hands were shaking, and I knew that I was going to do something stupid like cry any second.
When I made it to the door, Ander spoke again, still not looking at me. “I don’t regret it, E. Not at all. I just…I need some space right now.”
I nodded jerkily, hoping he could see me out of the corner of my eye because I didn’t trust myself to speak.
When I was back in the safety and privacy of my bedroom, I curled up into a ball under my duvet, squeezing my eyes shut and gritting my teeth in a useless attempt to stop myself from crying, desperately hoping that what we’d done tonight hadn’t been the biggest mistake of my life.
28
Icouldn’t breathe.
I was fucking drowning.
I’d never been so shaken in my life. What the fuck did I do? I was so fucking unprepared for this. Sometime during what had been, hands down, the best sexual experience of my life, because it was with Elliot, I’d realised something.
I wasn’t falling for my best friend any longer. I’d fallen all the way. I, Ander Loveridge, serial player with no intentions to start a relationship with anyone, had completely and utterly fallen in love with Elliot Clarke, and to make things worse, I wanted everything with him. Every-fucking-thing. Maybe it was because he was already the other half of me that I’d fallen so hard and fast, but now that I’d been hit with this bomb of a revelation, I was so unequipped to handle these feelings.
I’d told Elliot to leave because what else could I do? How could I untangle this mess of feelings and pretend like my entire world hadn’t just been shattered? How could I act like I was okay to carry on as we had been, taking it slow so I didn’t scare him away, when all I wanted was for him to be mine in every way? To be my boyfriend for real, not just as an act for an asshole in a bar? To tell everyone that he belonged to me?
My palms were digging into the edge of my desk, the wood biting into my skin, and my head was pounding. Fuck, I really needed to talk to someone. Liam, maybe. Surely, he’d have some advice—not that he’d been through quite the same situation, but I knew how in love with Noah he was.
Except it was two in the morning. Everyone would be asleep.
A wave of panicky, sick feelings crashed over me, and I forced myself to inhale and exhale deeply, counting in my head until it resided a little. When I felt like I was no longer at risk of drowning, I stiffly uncurled my fingers from my desk and made my way to my drawers on shaky legs, grabbing a pair of grey joggers and pulling them on. Then I picked up my phone and made my way up to the top floor to JJ’s bedroom. He was the only person I knew who’d still be awake because he’d been working tonight, and there was no way I could sleep after everything. I had to talk to someone.
Collapsing back onto JJ’s bed, I pulled up Google on my phone and typed, “What do I do if I’ve fallen in love with my best friend?”
After less than a minute of scanning the results, I threw my phone down, defeated. I really fucking needed to talk to someone about this. Where was JJ?
Jumping up from JJ’s bed, I began pacing his room but stopped dead when I reached his bookshelves. On one of the shelves, a space had been cleared where there were usually books, and instead, there was an aquarium tank with the biggest snail I’d ever seen in my life inside. I wasn’t even kidding—that thing washuge.
It stared at me with its stalk eyes, and I stared right back. Would it be weird if I started talking to a snail? I guessed not—people had therapy pets that they talked to, didn’t they? Why not snails? Maybe I should get one myself…actually, no. Elliot wasn’t a fan of snails.
“Do you know when JJ’s gonna be back?” I asked the snail. It didn’t reply.
“Have you ever been in love with your best friend?”
The snail moved sloooowly along the floor of the tank, stopping in front of what looked like a piece of lettuce.
“What am I saying? You’re all alone in there.” Moving closer, I reached out to trace my finger over the glass. My vision was getting blurry as tears gathered in my eyes. “That’s so fuckingsad.”
I threw myself face down on JJ’s bed.
That was the last thing I remembered.
* * *
