I pull away from him so that I can look him in the eye, and so that I can leave when he decides that I’m not worth it. “I was a complete coward about it because the popular kids would have come after me if they knew. So instead I was mean to you. And then one day I found myself in a room halfway around the world watching a man who reminded me of you get beaten because I made a few terrorists laugh. After that, I stopped giving a shit about what other people thought about my preferences.”
* * *
Heath
A churning combination of emotions are hitting me all at once. I’m trying to remember when I thought that Roly was just this carefree, careless dude, but I can’t. There is only the man in front of me, stiff from bracing for my judgment, his truth a gut-clenching mix of awful, broken, and redeemed.
And these emotions he’s stirring up in me—if I’m honest, feelings that have been there for a while now—are still probably a real fucking bad idea.
I rub my palm across my face. “I don’t know what I’m going to do with you.”
Roly’s face falls, but there’s an acceptance to his posture. He nods and moves to stand up.
Yeah,no.
I grab his arm and pull him back down to the couch, back into the crooked protection of my arm, safe.
“Up until a couple of weeks ago, I just wanted to avoid you at all costs, but you’ve made that impossible,” I say softly, kissing his temple.
Rolls eyes widen, his face almost cherubic. “I have?”
“Mmmm. Here’s the thing. You’re unbelievably hot, always have been, but now you’re problematically deep as well, which complicates things because you are also a total flight risk.”
Roly looks up at me, stunned. His eyes wide, his mouth—that dirty, ripe mouth—flies open in surprise. I wait for him to say something snarky, or funny, or inappropriate, but then his eyes start to fill again, and his face crumples. Burying his face in my chest, his words are muffled. “I’mnota flight risk. I didn’t think people would want to stay once they figured out how worthless I am, but I’m working on it.”
“Okay, well, I want you to work a little harder on that, because if you keep saying that, it’s going to start pissing me off. You’re not worthless. You’ve been unkind, arrogant, and inconsiderate of how your words have a remarkable hang time. Your words are powerful, and you used that power to hurt people. But all of that is past tense,” I say, continuing to brush my fingers through his thick, black hair. “You’ve matured and allowed a terrible experience to change you in a positive way. You work so hard, you never stop, and you make everyone around you smile. That’s not a small thing. And to be honest, hearing your story, I’m embarrassed for how long I’ve held this grudge and never queried it. And when you were trying to make amends, as ridiculous as you were, you were trying very hard, and I didn’t give you much credit for that.”
“You did hate-fuck me, which I’m willing to take as credit,” he says, peeking up at me from his position, still buried in my chest. His eyes hold amusement, and the last of the defenses that I have against him burn away, unable to survive his bright, hot existence.
“That is true, I did hate-fuck you. But we can’t ever do that again, can we?”
He pulls back for me and put his hand on his heart. “Wait, what? I really enjoyed the hate-fucking.”
I lean in and whisper into his ear, “I don’t hate you anymore, haven’t for a long time now, so that’s going to be a problem.”
He folds his knees under himself, bringing his face closer to mine. “But would you be willing to like-kiss me? Not as much fun as the hate-fucking, but I could really use some like-kissing-with-the-potential-for-more right now.”
A warmth blooms in my chest at his absolute silliness. He’s such a strange amalgamation of a man. I first knew him as a cheerleader and have to be reminded that he was a fucking Navy SEAL—I mean, how did that happen? And then on top of that he’s this crazy Energizer Bunny who needs to be slowed down by his own family, and the reason is just heartbreaking. It’s always fun when somebody who is too cocky gets their comeuppance, but when that cocky person realizes that they’ve caused pain and actively works to make themselves better? Less fun, but infinitely more satisfying.
I almost laugh when I consider the comedy of errors that comprised his attempts to make things up to me. His eyes catch my smile, and he looks worried, like maybe I’m making fun of him. Of course, he’d deserve every minute of it, but I have no intention of doing that. Not tonight.
I’d better kiss him quick before he doubts my intentions.
Chuckling to myself, I shake my head, then grab him by the scruff of his neck and pull him to me, kissing him deeply as he squeaks in surprise, then moans against the pressured sweetness of our connection.
He melts into me, seeping through cracks and crevices that I didn’t know were there, and I explore him with gentleness. He’s so warm and pliant in my arms, and as we deepen the kiss, I can feel the moment when he completely gives himself over to me. It’s not just frenetic, fun Roly just trying to get a good time out of a bear. This is Rolando Martinez, war hero, family man, spirited friend, and he’s warm honey in my fingertips.
I pull back and he looks at me with wonder in his eyes, and it makes me feel about ten feet tall. His trust and vulnerability are precious things, and he’s giving them to me for safekeeping. There are so few times in life when we can be genuinely surprised, delighted by something. Finding five dollars on the sidewalk, or winning at bingo, or realizing that the guy who you judged as a two-dimensional, unserious jackass is a real man, whole and actual.
I touch his face, and he smiles beneath my fingertips. I ask, the soft wonder seeping into my voice, “Who are you? What are you thinking?”
He’s told me his darkest secret, and now I just want him to tell me how he feels in this very moment.
He looks up at me and for several moments says nothing, just letting his eyes rove over every part of me. “I’m thinking that I wished I’d been braver in high school. I mean, I’m glad that you have your three girls, of course. But if I’d just been brave instead of mean, who knows what would’ve come of that?”
I think that was the second time he’s mentioned having a crush on me in high school, which seems so unlikely that I have a hard time believing it. “So, youliked meliked me in high school?”
He captures me in those dark eyes framed with dark lashes, sparking with amusement and affection. “I thought you were beautiful. Still do. I was a stupid kid who let the opinions of other stupid kids prevent me from getting to know you.”
