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I nod my head slowly, rubbing at the back of my neck. “I do.”
Tasmin hops up from the table, smacking the wood with her hand. “Well, there you have it. Damon will stay for a while longer, and I’m flipping those waffles before they burn.”
As the kitchen erupts into clatters and bangs, I turn to Damon. “But only if you really want to. I know it’s not my place—”
“I do,” he says surely. “If you really want that. I totally do. As long as you’re sure.”
“Yeah, I’m sure,” I say again, and it feels like we’re going in circles, stuck in an awkward merry-go-round. “Maybe…maybe we can go out one time….”
“Like a date?” His eyes light up slightly, but it’s also like he doesn’t fully trust it. Trust me. “Like a real date? Oh god, maybe you don’t mean a real date.”
The way he looks so disappointed and simultaneously embarrassed has me blurting, “Yeah. Like a date.”
And as soon as I confirm it and Damon’s mouth pulls into a brilliant smile, I know I’ve done the right thing. I’ve never been out on a date with a man and honestly, I haven’t been out on a date with a woman in a while either, but if I can figure this out with anyone, it’s him.
To be honest, I really would like to try kissing him again and maybe even do a bit more.
More. The thought makes my entire body flame.
It doesn’t help that he pours creamer into his coffee, stirs it up and then sucks on the spoon, his luscious lips wrapping around the metal, causing my mind to drift to all the things that mouth can do.
The things I’ve seen it do on camera. But also the kiss last night, the way it lit me on fire. Yeah, I want to touch my lips to his once more, want to slide my tongue into his mouth and suck.
I want to do a lot more.
A whole fucking lot.
* * *
My freakout happensin the middle of the night. Everything piles up in my brain, and I wake up in a cold sweat.
I asked Damon to stay for me. I asked him to go out with me. On a date.
Goddamnit. I don’t know what the hell I’m doing or if I’m even doing the right thing. He said that he didn’t want to get into this with me because he didn’t want to get hurt. What if I end up hurting him?
Turning over to my side, I stare at the wall, trying to calm my racing heart. It doesn’t work. My body seems to like this position and it seems to pick up the pace even more. My mind swirls at the same time, and I feel lightheaded.
Am I gay? Am I bi? I don’t fucking know anymore. All I know is I like Damon, and I liked that kiss. And my dick, which is hard and aching right now, is having none of this crisis. It just wants to get off. And get off bad.
I turn and face the ceiling, my sheets tented.
Fuck. I simultaneously want to cum and crawl under my covers and never come out again.
The moms saw us…Hannah saw us. I asked him on a date. What do I tell my parents? Should I tell my parents anything yet? Or when? After the date? I don’t know. I don’t know anything.
A groan escapes me, and I slap a hand across my eyes. I need to talk to someone. I really need to talk to Damon.
Throwing my covers off, I slide on my shoes and stalk outside. I’ve lost my mind completely at this point, but I don’t care. I need someone to talk me through this. A sexual awakening at this age is so damn confusing. I already feel so possessive of him, and yet I don’t know what I want. Is that fair to him?
I don’t know. I don’t fucking know. Everything made sense this afternoon and now I’m reeling.
“Tomas?” Damon asks, stepping off the front porch and cocking his head at me. “You okay?”
I should ask him the same thing. He’s out here late at night. Is he freaking out too? I mean… I’m not really a catch for a guy like Damon, am I? He’s this gorgeous, accomplished, successful man, and I mean…I’m not bad-looking. And I’m successful.
But at my age, just now questioning my sexuality?
He’s so bold and strong. He knows exactly who he is. He’s confident and assured, and I am just…freaking the hell out.
