“It wasaccidental.”
“Clifford the Big Red Peeping Tom.” He let out a quiet laugh. Fortunately for Cliff, he found the whole thing amusing.
“I didn’t see anything, but after that, I knew I wanted to see more. I actually...there was this one time when I took a cucumber from the kitchen and...did some experimenting.” Was he really saying all of this out loud and not melting into a puddle of shame and embarrassment?
“I hope you didn’t put it back when you were done.”
Cliff shoved his arm with his free hand. “How about you? When did you know?”
“With my ex. It was a part of me I discovered, rather than something there the whole time.”
“So are you bi then?”
“I guess technically since I’ve been with both, but I care more about the person I fall for than the package they come in.”
Cliff felt heat creep up his neck. Was Brennan falling for him? He was already there.
“So am I the first guy you’ve ever done stuff with?”
Cliff nodded. He feared Brennan thinking less of him for being so inexperienced. “I guess I’m a late bloomer.”
“No, you’re not.” Brennan’s warm smile vanished as he turned away. Cliff wanted to sink into the floor and down into the street.
“What?” Cliff asked, desperate to rewind to ten seconds ago when they were laughing about cucumbers.
“You’ve never kissed a guy before. You’ve never kissed anyone before.”
Cliff flipped through the scrapbook of their sordid time together; they’d done a lot, but they never kissed. He was surprised Brennan registered that fact so quickly. “I haven’t.”
“I always thought that maybe you hooked up with some guy somewhere along the way. We’ve been sucking each other off, and this whole time, you’ve never been kissed.” His pained expression creased his forehead. This was a national emergency to him.
“It’s not a big deal.”
“It is. A kiss is magical, special. I know I sound like a Disney princess, but…” His eyes became clear, and he spoke with urgency. “You deserve a first kiss, Cliff. An amazing, mind-melting, off-the-fucking-charts kiss.”
Brennan moved his free hand to caress Cliff’s stubbly cheek. Without thinking, as if pulled together by a force stronger than gravity, Cliff crashed his lips into Brennan’s mouth.
And Brennan was right.
Magic swirled around them. He tasted the warm breath filling his space and hungered for more new sensations. They gave each other soft, slow pecs on the lips at first. The gentleness began to erode when Brennan’s tongue pushed against Cliff’s mouth. Care and emotion mixed with need. How could Cliff have gone his whole life without knowing this feeling?
He parted his lips for Brennan’s tongue, which slid against his own creating a wet friction. Brennan moaned into his mouth, his mustache scratching Cliff’s face as rain slashed on the windows.
Were they making a scene? Would the three other people on the bus recognize one of Browerton’s newest basketball players?
Cliff didn’t care. Not in this moment. He spent ninety-nine percent of his time acutely considering what others thought. He wanted this one percent to live life as it was intended.
The shuttle made a hard turn onto Susquehanna Avenue. The arch welcoming people to Browerton was in sight.
Their mouths parted to catch their breath. Brennan’s eyes were wide and wired. Cliff had so much energy pumping through him he could scale a building. Coach Trainor wanted his players to get to bed early tonight, so they’d be ready for the tipoff tomorrow.
Fuck that.
Cliff, still catching his breath from that universe-shattering lip lock, leaned into Brennan’s ear. “Let’s go back to your place.”
16
BRENNAN
