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Obviously, we’ve both been in hotels before. We aren’t total hermits, but this is the first time we’ve ever been on our own like this. It’s honestly a great feeling. New and exciting.
We use the elevator to go up to the third floor, both of us with our bags over our shoulders, and he uses the key card to let us inside. The hotel isn’t fancy by a longshot, but it’s clean with two queen beds and a separate bathroom.
There’s a desk with a coffee maker and a television on a dresser. Zach drops his bag and moves over to the window, pulling the curtains open. The view is just of other buildings—a hotel and a coffee drive-thru. That’s pretty much it, but it’s a vast change from what we’re used to.
I drop my bag and plop down on the edge of the bed, watching Zach look out at the street. “So what do you want to do first?”
He turns toward me, his bottom lip tucked between his teeth, and I can tell he’s nervous. “I’m starving.”
Phew. Okay.I’m here to get him laid or whatever the hell he wants, but truth be told, I could use a little easing into this. And part of me was worried he’d want to head right to the club.
“Sounds good. Let’s go.” He’s grinning big now, less nervous and not abusing his bottom lip anymore as we head out into the hall, making sure we each have our keys. We find a barbecue restaurant near our hotel and stuff our faces until we can barely move and then head back to the hotel.
I’m waiting for him to say he’s ready to go out, but he just flops on his back onto the bed and grabs the remote for the television. “Score. The originalFast and the Furiousis on.”
I watch him as he rolls to his side to watch the tv a little better. He looks comfortable and relaxed. I sit down on my bed, still full from dinner. His eyes are trained on the television, and I know it’s time to talk about going.
Maybe we both need to shower and change before we go, but I can’t seem to bring myself to do it. Instead, I kick my shoes off and scoot up to the top of the bed, leaning back against the comfortable pillows.
Zach turns his head to look at me and must also decide to make himself more comfortable because he sits up, kicks his shoes off, and then climbs up to rest on the pillows on his bed too.
He crosses his ankles, and then he’s focused on the movie again. I know I need to say something.
The whole reason for the trip was to allow him to go out. To dance, flirt, and kiss. I don’t want to think about anything more. The thought of it makes me sick and not at all because it’ll be with men instead of women.
I didn’t like seeing him do those things with Chloe either, if I’m honest. I hated it. Even now knowing that he didn’t really enjoy it doesn’t make it any better for me to think about it.
After an hour of watching the movie in the hotel room, I know I need to finally say something. Maybe he’s worried about me. That’s entirely possible.
“Zach?” He turns his head to look at me, and I swear he looks nervous again. But is it the good kind of nerves like before a big game or is it the bad kind like before a test? I can’t tell. “Are you ready to go out? Maybe we should shower.” His eyes widen a little, but he seems to recover pretty quickly.
He shifts on the bed but makes no move to stand up. “Um... I don’t know. I’m kind of wiped out and really damn full after dinner.”
I study him closely. “So you want to stay in tonight?”
He shrugs. To anyone else, he’d appear nonchalant right now, but I know him better. He’s anything but calm. “Yeah. Is that okay? I mean, I’d rather rest up for tomorrow and just go then.”
“Right. That makes sense,” I say dumbly. “There’s always tomorrow.”
“Yup. Tomorrow we’ll go to the club, and I’ll get my experience.” He grins at me goofily, and it’s not at all forced.
“Yeah. Tomorrow. Sex with someone other than your hand.” Which is all I know. He’s at least had some experience, even if it wasn’t exactly positive.
I’ve never even kissed anyone.
And my brain takes that moment to think about what it would be like. And not with some nameless faceless human. No. The lips I’m picturing pressed against mine are all too familiar. Pale pink and full. Often swollen slightly from him dragging it under his teeth when he gets nervous.
Shit. What the hell was that?
I look over to find Zach watching me, and I wonder for a second if he knew what I was thinking about.Would he be mad? What if I told him it wasn’t the first time I thought about it?
Would he think I’m messing with him?
I wasn’t lying when I said I’m not like other people, and the more I think about the demisexual label, the more it seems to fit me. That I need a strong connection before sex gets involved. There’s no stronger connection on earth than the one I feel with Zach.
Could it happen?
Would he want to?
