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The trembling that had started in my hand sped up my arms, to my chest and throughout my whole body. I’d never liked the sound of my name as much as I did in that moment. I almost asked him to say it again, but I knew if I opened my mouth, nothing would come out. Words and thoughts got jumbled up in my head. Charles was touching me, and I was touching him. We were close, so fucking close that if I lost my breath, I thought I could live off him feeding me his.

“I want to kiss you,” he said, and he was closer now. I could swear I felt the beat of his heart.

“I…” Was all I could make fall past my lips. I was nearly fifty years old, and my head started spinning at the thought of a kiss. What the hell was wrong with me?

“Shit. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.” Charles stepped away. “I respect you and your sexuality. I want to be your friend, and that was…that wasn’t the best way to be that. Can we forget what I said?”

No, no, no, a soft voice whispered in my head. But I didn’t set it free. Laughter came from the bar as people stumbled outside, and I just nodded.

“Come on. Get in and I’ll take you home.”

He felt bad, I could feel it. The last thing I ever wanted was for Charles to feel bad. He didn’t realize what he’d given me the past few weeks, how normal he’d made me feel.

My leg was bouncing, like all the energy and thoughts in my body went straight there rather than my chest, where it usually landed.

“Why do you think I was able to do that, but nearly lost it that time in the grocery store?” I managed to ask.

“I don’t know. Anxiety doesn’t play by rules. There’s no textbook to follow. But maybe it’s because music has always centered you. It’s your passion, and maybe that helps.”

I could see what he was saying.

The forty-minute drive felt like forty hours and forty seconds at the same time, and then we were pulling into my driveway and Charles wasn’t turning off his car. The whole drive I’d been thinking about that moment outside the bar. I needed to do this, needed to tell him, somehow, how I was broken. That I’d only been attracted to one person in my whole life, but that his touch had made me feel things I never thought I could. What if it was a fluke, though, and once he started, I just wanted it to be over? How would I look him in the face after that?

“Thanks again for tonight, Bri. I should probably head out.”

Was this it? Was this going to be the end of our friendship? Had I fucked it up that badly? “All right. It’s late, so I reckon that’s a good idea.” But it wasn’t, and I didn’t want it.

“I’m sorry again about…you know.”

Sorry just because of me, or did he wish he hadn’t done it either?

I opened the door, let my busy leg out, but the second my foot touched the ground, I couldn’t do it, couldn’t walk away from feeling something other than the pain or indifference I’d felt most of my life. “I don’t want ya to go. Can you come in? I wanna explain something to you.”

The dome light was on, and he turned to me, something unreadable on his handsome face. And it was handsome, wasn’t it? Was I gay? Was that why I’d never enjoyed sex with women? But that didn’t explain loving Nadine. I could be bisexual, but again, what about how bad I was at sex? How much I struggled to even get hard?

Panic dug its claws into me again, making my chest hurt. Why was I such a mess, and how could I ever explain it to him?

“Hey. We’re good. Breathe.” Charles rubbed circles on my back, soothing me the way he seemed to be able to do. “Come on, let’s go in.” He turned the SUV off.

“I’m sorry I’m like this. That you gotta treat me like a kid.”

“No, I don’t, and there’s nothing wrong with how you are.”

The conviction in his voice almost made me believe him.

I waited until Charles got out and closed the door before I did the same. We headed up to the house together, walking close but not touching.

“You thirsty?” I asked when we got inside. “Or hungry? I can fix us somethin’ to eat real quick if you want.”

Charles smiled. “I’m fine. Still full from dinner.” Shit. We’d just eaten, hadn’t we? “Whatever you want to talk to me about, you can. I won’t judge you for it, and it won’t change how I see you. But if you’re not ready, you don’t have to. I shouldn’t have asked to kiss you.”

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