That brought a frown to my face. Who had made him feel that way? “You’re not boringorannoying.”
He gave me a skeptical look but said nothing.
“Ok,” I allowed, “you have your moments, just like anyone else. Just like me. But overall I wouldn’t say you’re a boring person or an annoying one. You’re fun and smart and…” I fumbled for the right words. “...and you make me happy when I get to spend time with you,” I finally finished with an awkward shrug. “And besides, you’re talking to the guy who’s an anxious wreck ninety percent of the time, whose last relationship ended because his ex fucked another guy in his bed and then told him he wasn’t good enough. You want to argue about who’s the badchoice in this relationship? I will give you a helluva run for your money.”
“Relationship?”
I froze. Had I said that?Great job, Hen, way to jump the gun.“Um. I mean, not that I’m claiming we have a relationship when we don’t. I just meant that, like, um, interpersonal relationship.”
To my surprise, Jamison nuzzled into the crook of my neck instead of pulling back at my awkward verbal fumblings. “It would be nice if it was a relationship,” he mumbled into my skin, just muffled enough that I wasn’t positive I’d heard him right.
I wedged my hand under his chin and tipped it up to force him to look at me. “What did you say?” His lashes fluttered closed defensively, and I gripped his chin a little more firmly. “Jamison.”
He opened his eyes and gave me a sulky look. “I said it would be nice if it was a relationship,” he repeated, tipping his chin challengingly. “But you don’t have to -”
I kissed him before he could go any further. We were obviously both gun-shy of coming out and saying it, but just as obviously, we were both interested. “I want it to be a relationship,” I told him, pulling back from the kiss. “If you do.”
Phew, somehow those words had come out without stuttering or the urge to backtrack anxiously. Much. I clenched my jaw shut before I could reflexively offer him an out.
His eyes widened, and I wondered what was going through his mind. But then his tongue was in my mouth and I forgot to wonder anymore. “I do,” he whispered into my mouth. “I really do. Can we?”
I flicked my tongue against his and pulled back enough to speak clearly. “Jamison Duschene,” I said, then pecked him again. “Will you go on a date with me?”
“Yes,” he said immediately.
“Will you be exclusive with me?”
“Definitely.”
It felt like there needed to be a third question in here to make it “official”, and I mentally fumbled around for what else to ask. One thing jumped to mind, but maybe it was a step too far? Before I could completely talk myself out of it, I forged ahead. “We’ve both been tested within an inch of our lives. Maybe we could…um…wannagobare?” I blurted.
He looked blank for a moment, clearly mentally deciphering my run-together words, and then understanding dawned on his face. “Promise we’re exclusive?” he asked.
I nodded. “No one else wanted or needed. Just you.” I had never been a cheater, but after what Ramsey did to me? Absolutely not. As long as I was with Jamison, Jamison would be all I needed. “Just you,” I said again, more softly this time, palming his cheek.
He nuzzled into my touch. “No condoms. Holy shit, I get to feel your cum drip out of me while sober?”
My dick and heart both lurched at that. Holy shit, indeed. I moved my hand from his face to his back and lifted my other arm to wrap it around him until I had him in a bear hug. And then I squeezed until he squeaked. “Thank you.”
“For fucking you bare?” he teased, then blew a raspberry into my neck. “No problem. Anytime.”
I gave him another squeeze, this time wrapping my legs around him too until I had him cocooned. “For saying yes. I know we got a bad start, and there’s still that little bit of uncertainty about the last test, and I know I’m not the smoothest guy and I get anxious and my cat - cats - can be annoying, and I don’t cook that well, and -”
“Dude.” He nipped the skin of my neck, not hard enough to leave another mark but hard enough to distract me from my little rundown of my bad qualities. “You’re awesome, and I don’t like hearing people insult my boyfriend.” He paused,lifting his head to meet my eyes. “Are we calling each other that? ‘Boyfriend’?”
Holy shit, I had a boyfriend. How had one of my dumbest life decisions - drunk, unprotected sex - brought me here to this happy moment? Who the fuck knew, but I was going to take it and run with it. “I like ‘boyfriend’,” I told him. “Unless you prefer ‘partner’ or something else. Or -” Oh, but what if… “- or maybe you don’t want to tell people?” I asked hesitantly.
He shook his head immediately and firmly. “Fuck that. I’m telling people. I want my sister to know I landed the guy who’s so good with his hands.” He leered at me theatrically. “And I want to be able to tell people I’m taken, by a good guy. In fact…” He threw his weight to the side, leaning off me and then off the bed to reach for his pants. “I’m texting Charlie now to brag.”
Moving quickly, I gripped his hips to keep him from overbalancing and sliding face-first off the bed. “Whoa. Careful.”
Relying on my grip, he came up with his phone in one hand and his jeans in the other, then tossed the jeans back on the floor. “It was fine, you had me.”
There was something meaningful in the way he said that, or at least so it seemed to me. I squeezed my hands on his hips as he slithered back on top of me. “I definitely have you. But…” I winced. “Can we maybe wait to call people until we’ve put our pants back on? What if you accidentally hit the video call button?”
Jamison furrowed his brows and frowned, looking down at his phone. “Well, I was just going to text her, but I guess…” He set the phone on the bedside table and settled back onto me. “There’s time to do that later.” A quick kiss to my left pec. “I kinda want to cuddle now.”
I could get behind that. I drew my hands up from his hips to his mid-back and gave him a solid hug. “I like cuddling.”
