After a minute, I force myself up and walk over to Kieran, who has already turned the computer off. He turns around in his chair so he’s facing me. “Everything okay?”
“Fine,” I say, climbing onto his lap, so I’m straddling him. “Where were we?”
Kieran doesn’t do anything, so I lead forward and kiss his neck.
He sighs. “Jasper,” he says, and gently pushes me back.
“I’m sorry,” I say after a moment. My erection disappeared a long time ago, which is another thing I’m mad about. I was having such a great time before Dad called.
“Don’t be sorry.”
“We can still — ” I begin.
Kieran shakes his head.
“But that’s why you’re here,” I say. “You were right. I should have just rejected his call.”
“It’s okay.” He pats my back. It’s awkward, but the contact is still nice. “Do you want me to go?” he asks.
I don’t reply.
“Do you want me to stay?”
I shrug, casting my eyes down so I don’t have to look at him. Tonight, I’ll regret not throwing him out. I’ll regret letting him see me like this.
“Hold on,” Kieran says in a soft voice, and stands up, his hands supporting my back. I cling onto him, my legs wrapped around his waist as he walks us to the bed. I can’t believe he’s strong enough to carry me. I know I’m not light.
He lays me on the bed, my head on the pillow. Then he gets in beside me, taking the other pillow, and pulling the covers up over us.
“What are we doing?” I ask.
“Napping,” he says, closing his eyes.
“Napping?” I ask incredulously.
“Don’t underestimate naps,” he says. “I nap every afternoon after school if I’m not seeing you.”
“You nap when you see me, anyway.” He sleeps for five minutes after coming, and sometimes I close my eyes too, but mostly I watch him like a psycho.
“That’s a five-minute nap. That doesn’t count.”
I close my eyes. Kieran’s body heat makes this bed feel even more cozy than usual. I inch a little closer to him, but I’m not subtle about it, and he notices. He pulls me close, so he’s spooning me, and I stiffen for a moment before relaxing. Having him hold me like this is pleasant. There’s no reason I should push him away.
“Do you want to talk about it?” he asks after a couple of minutes, his voice a murmur in my ear.
“I thought we were napping,” I say.
He doesn’t answer.
“I’m not going to tell you about my problems. Besides, I’m too privileged to have problems,” I continue, too tired to insert any venom into my words.
“Is that what you think?”
“It’s what I think you think,” I answer.
“It sounded like you were pretty upset. Then you opened your grades —”
“Yeah, I saw you looking at them.”
