Page 15 of Love Song


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Fucking hell, was I gay? How could I be when I still enjoyed women? Maybe I was bi. But how had I never known that about myself? And why hadn’t I noticed other guys before? Maybe it was just way past time to seek closeness from someone. Someone with curves and breasts.

I carefully untangled my fingers, trying not to wake him. Ellis might freak if he knew where my thoughts had wandered.

Creating space between us, I turned toward the wall and fell into a fitful sleep.

I woke with the urge to piss and could’ve easily rolled out of bed to use his bathroom if it wasn’t for Ellis’s arm and leg pinning me down as he snored lightly against my nape. His very obvious erection was trapped against my lower back, and for the first time, I imagined myself turning over to reach for it, offer him relief. To palm it, feel its weight, to find out what made him moan as he was jerked by someone. By me.

That only made my situation worse. My cock was stiff with a full bladder, so this was not the time to imagine what it might be like to be intimate with a guy. Of course not everyone would respond the same or have similar needs, which I knew from my abundant experience with women. So why would it be any different with guys?

Damn it. I should end this line of thinking immediately. I could even slip out of his apartment to my own, but I didn’t want him to think our sleeping arrangement was affecting me or that I was leaving him when he was still raw and vulnerable.

When Ellis moaned and shifted, I nearly lost it. Was he even aware that his warm, heavy limbs had trapped me in this bed?

Quiet as could be, I attempted to slide out from under him, but as soon as I shifted his leg, his eyes sprang open and his muscles locked, trapping me again. Maybe moving wasn’t such a great idea, given the circumstances and his newfound fears.

I lay still, allowing him to become more aware of his surroundings. “Shit. I’m sorry. I…” He quickly rolled away from me.

“No worries. I just needed to take a leak.” I crawled out of the twisted sheets and strode to the bathroom before my bladder exploded or I embarrassed myself. I aimed for the toilet, sighing in relief, then washed my hands.

When I returned to his room, I noticed Ellis had scooted closer to the edge of the bed, and I felt guilty for making him self-conscious.

So I went for humor as I slid beneath the covers again. “Feel free to spread out again, spider monkey.”

He put his face in his hands and groaned. “I’m sorry. I know I move around a lot. You should’ve pushed me off.”

“Nah, it’s no big deal. I’d let you know if you were suffocating me.”

“How are you always so chill?” Ellis asked, turning to look at me.

“You’re joking, right? This is something that shouldn’t be an issue because it’s natural. Besides, women line up in droves to cuddle with me.”

“Oh my God.” He shoved my shoulder. “Yes, I can barely get into your apartment most nights.”

“I obviously let you jump the line. You’re my number-one cuddler.” I earned myself another shove, but it was halfhearted as the air in the room seemed to swirl and thicken.

We were both lying on our sides, watching each other. I allowed myself to stare openly at his mussed hair and full lips, trying to keep my earlier thoughts at bay.

“Why?” Ellis’s voice was unsteady.

“Why what?”

“Why are you doing all this for me? With me. And don’t say because it’s what friends do.”

I blinked in shock. “Because I want to. I get something out of it too.” I didn’t understand it, but I didn’t need to. I just knew how being with him made me feel, and I didn’t want to lose that.

“Like what?”

“Closeness…connection,” I admitted, and his breath hitched. “Keeping an eye on you, which brings me peace of mind too.”

More staring.

“Okay?” I murmured.

“Yeah, okay.”

“Good, now go to sleep.”

He was snoring softly a minute later.

8

Ellis

After school, I had my first therapy appointment, and I’d come close to canceling because my nerves were getting the best of me. Harriet had sent me information regarding a group for crime victims, but I figured talking one-on-one with someone was the better way to go. I hadn’t told anyone about my session, not even my parents or Nolan, though he had encouraged it after the visit to the police station.

We were still sleeping in each other’s beds—more his than mine—but I was doing better. I wasn’t constantly looking over my shoulder, but I was always hyperaware of my surroundings. The only time I could totally let go was when I was upstairs with Nolan. He made me feel safe, but I couldn’t unpack why. Maybe because there were two of us to fight off any potential robbers. Or maybe his calm demeanor and soothing voice helped slow my racing thoughts well after my meds had worn off for the day.

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