“He didn’t leave a message?”
I shook my head.
Rome squeezed my hand.
“I honestly wish he’d freaked out at me,” I said, “but he’s not the type to do that. He’s too nice.”
“How do you know that? You’ve known him for a week.”
“Yeah, but it feels like I’ve known him for longer. It was so easy with him. Now we can’t even be friends.” I sank into my chair. “Mostly, I feel stupid. Itoldmyself not to like him. That’s rule number one when finding a boyfriend, y’know? Don’t get attached to unavailable people.”
Rome nodded.
“But then he said that he liked me. He said I made him feel giddy. I let myself hope…and then he disappeared in the morning just like a hookup.”
“I’m sorry, Eddie.”
“I’m so dumb,” I muttered, shaking my head. “I should’ve known it was a bad idea.”
“If he told you he liked you, you’re not dumb for believing him. I’ve never met the guy, but he sounds like a genuine person.”
“He is genuine,” I insisted, ignoring the voice in the back of my mind that reminded me I’d only known him for a week. “He wouldn’t lie —” I cut myself off.
He wouldn’t lie just to have sex. Not when he was a virgin. Not when he was so shy about the whole thing.
“He didn’t lie,” I repeated, mostly to myself. “He just freaked out. And if he wants to, and if he’s ready, he’ll talk to me.” I believed it. Mostly.
The thing was, I knew he wanted to kiss me. He kissed me a lot. Horny straight boys didn’t kiss gay guys just to get their dick wet.
But…
He hadn’t touched me, not down where he’d have to confront the fact I was a man. Yes, he knew that I was a guy, but there was a difference between looking at someone’s face and having your hand wrapped around their penis. The one time his fingers had brushed my erection, he’d snatched his hand away as if he’d been burned.
Rome was looking at me. “What are you going to do about Atticus?”
Shit, Atticus.
“I need to talk to him,” I said. I would have to break things off — it wouldn’t be fair to him to keep dating him when I wanted Leo. Even if I never saw Leo again, I couldn’t treat Atticus like some consolation prize. I groaned. “I feel so bad. It’s not like he did anything wrong.”
“I’m sure he’ll understand,” Rome said, patting me on the back.
“Maybe if I never mixed him up with Leo…maybe if I’d met him first, everything would be different. We only hung out twice. If I hadn’t slept with Leo that night, then we could’ve kept getting to know each other, and then maybe —”
Maybe we would’ve developed feelings for each other?
I thought back to the single conversation I’d had one one-on-one with Atticus last Friday.You and Leo. Is there really nothing going on between you two?
I texted Atticus to meet, and we agreed on the same time and place as our first date: midday at Professors Lane Cafe on Wednesday. I arrived early, so I ordered a matcha latte and sat down at one of the wooden tables.
A few minutes later, Atticus walked in wearing a wine-red scarf and chunky jumper that, on me, would’ve made me look like a lumpy space princess but somehow looked like high fashion on him. He nodded at me before ordering at the counter.
A few minutes later, he came over and sat down, placing a mocha on the table and unspooling the scarf from around his neck.
“Hello,” he said. No handshake this time and no hug either.
“Hi.” I prepared myself to exchange how are yous and small talk when he replied, “Your text message was ominous.”
“Was it?” I pulled out my phone to check what I had sent him.
