“I’ve already drunk a lot of water,” he said. “Gailey made me.”
The nickname made me flinch.
“She made me drink a whole litre,” he continued. “Because apparently, I was ‘drunk.’” He made a clumsy attempt at air quotes, using three fingers on each hand instead of two.
“Alright, well, you’re going to drink some more.” I didn’t want to risk Leo stumbling down the street or being rowdy on the train.
Gently, I pulled him up and led him out of the room. Just before I left, I glanced over my shoulder. The vaping guy exhaled a plume of pale vapour, watching us with a shrewd expression.
In the kitchen, people were even louder than they had been the last time I was there. I found a litre water bottle lying on the drying rack and filled it up, watching carefully as Leo drank it. Some dribbled on his chin, and on any other night, I would’ve found it cute, but today I just felt impatient.
“Okay, let’s go,” he said, dropping the bottle into the sink with a clink.
Leo was quiet on the way home. After we stepped off the tram and walked down the street, he was walking in something pretty close to a straight line. He took out his keys with relative grace, and soon enough, we were back in his apartment.
“Do you want a shower?” he asked.
I shook my head. He went into the shower, and I waited for him, sitting on the edge of his bed. When he came out, he was wearing his passionfruit pyjamas and handed me the sun-themed ones I’d worn before.
“Thanks,” I said, placing them on my lap.
He flopped onto his head, eyes closed, and pulled me into his arms. I was stiff, and I wasn’t sure why. Actually, I did know. “Leo?” I asked, craning my neck so I could look up at him.
“Yeah?” He didn’t open his eyes.
“Am I just your friend?”
A line appeared between his brows. “Whaddaya mean?” He didn’t sound drunk anymore. Just…tired.
“When you introduced me to your friends, you called me your friend.”
“Youaremy friend,” he mumbled. “And I think I called you mybestfriend.”
He picked up my hand — his skin was warm from the shower — and I watched as he slipped it down the front of his pants. He was already half-aroused.
I inhaled sharply and slipped my hand out. “Leo,” I said. “Do you like sex, or do you like me?”
15
There was a flare of shock in Leo’s eyes as if he’d completely sobered up. Both of us were silent for a long moment.
I pushed myself into a sitting position because this wasn’t the kind of thing you could discuss in someone’s arms. “You can be honest,” I said. “There’s no wrong answer.”
He didn’t say anything; just pushed himself up into a cross-legged sitting position, facing me.
“I totally understand if you want sex,” I continued. “It’s this new, exciting thing, and if I were me from last year, I wouldn’t hesitate to show you all the hot things two guys can do, but…”Courage, Edwin. Be honest. This is the year of getting what you want.“Now, I want something different. I want something meaningful. I want someone who wants me for me, not just my body.”
“I want you for you,” Leo said, and I realised I was wrong — the look in his eyes wasn’t shock. It was hurt.
“It’s okay if you don’t,” I said firmly. “There’s no shame in not wanting nothing more than hands or a mouth —”
“Winnie —”
“Just let me finish,” I interrupted. I thought of vape guy. “I like you, Leo. I mean —” I let out an amused huff — “that’s obvious. And tonight, at the party, I realised how much I don’t just want to be your friend. I want —”
God, no one had told me how terrifying it was to say this to the guy you wanted.
“I want to be your boyfriend,” I finished. “I want a relationship. I mean, obviously, since I talk about it all the time. And tonight, I felt sad, being left alone at the party.”
