Go away.
You can admit it.
Fine, I admit it, now go away.
“If this was anyone else, if this was a...” he stopped and shook his head. “Talking was always what you were good at. You used to say the world was made up of people who were doers or thinkers, and I always liked to say I was definitely more of a doer. I was just being a cocky asshole, but...I wasn’t wrong. I’ve always been better at doing things than thinking about them...or talking about them.”
“Okay,” I said, because what was I supposed to say? I was torn between the aching flutter of hope in my chest and the squirming fear wrapping around it, preventing it from doing anything but sit there, helpless.
“So...what I’m trying to swing around to saying is,” he said, rubbing his shoulder in what I realized was a nervous gesture. “I’m going to be a doer. And I’m going to hope you forgive me if it’s the wrong thing to do.”
Warily, I eyed him. “Dom, I don’t know what you’re trying to?—”
I stopped when he stepped toward me, purpose in the first, second, and then third step. I almost flinched when he reachedout, taking me by each elbow in a firm, but warm grip that made me freeze. He was practically a landmass in comparison to me, standing in front of me, his dark eyes burning into mine as I stared up at him with shock and wonder.
I only realized what he was going to do when he took a deep breath and leaned down. Panic came to life inside me before his lips pressed over mine. It was firm, but there was no insistence, no demand, just the...simple presence of his mouth against mine and the understanding that this was exactly where he had been trying to say he wanted to be from the start. Warmth was a bud that opened inside my chest, flooding my body at the one simple act that I knew condemned me to a course I’d told myself repeatedly I should avoid.
“There,” he said softly as he drew back, his pupils wide and his mouth a thin line as he looked at me. “That’s...sort of what I was trying to get at.”
“You were trying to say you wanted to kiss me?” I asked him softly, still locked in the same position as when he took hold of me.
“Well, sort of. But also repeating that I’m not that awkward seventeen-year-old I regret being.”
“Everyone is awkward at that age, Dom.”
“I know. But back then, you were...really into me. And I was really into you, but I was too freaked out to commit. So instead I kept jerking you around with that ‘will he, won’t he’ bullshit I know had to drive you crazy at the time.”
“It might have,” I said, wrinkling my nose. “And I might be making it sound less bad than it actually was for me at the time. But that’s not something for you to worry about. Just like teenagers are awkward, they’re not known for taking things in stride or dealing with them gracefully. Everything felt larger than life back then, and so, yes, it felt like I was being jerked around at times, but...I wasn’t old enough to have the grace tosee you were struggling too. I knew you were struggling, but I only focused on how much I was.”
“I...look,” he said. “I’ve never beenreallyinto guys. Not even after you. I had a few times; a handful, I guess. And I enjoyed it, I had fun, mostly because they were guys I was sure I could have some fun with, you know?”
“I can’t say that I do,” I admitted.
He frowned. “Is telling you this an asshole thing to do? Because it really feels like an asshole thing to do.”
I laughed, having almost forgotten how self-conscious and afraid of being an asshole he was...well, afraid of being one to me anyway. I hadn’t forgotten how charming he could be, though. “No, Dom, it isn’t an asshole thing to do. I left, not you, remember? If you were with dozens, hundreds of other men after I left, I’d have no right to feel pissed off or hurt.”
“But...are you? Because even adults can have emotions that don’t make sense and feel stupid.”
God, for all his supposed insistence that he wasn’t that bright, he could get right to the heart of a subject, and he understood the human condition better than trained professionals I’d known. “No, I’m not upset or jealous that you were with other men. I don’t really...have a strong feeling about it, if I’m honest. I just meant that I don’t understand it because I am and have always been gay. I’ll never be able to truly understand what it’s like tosort ofbe into men.”
He gave me a crooked smile. “Alright, good point. I still feel like a jackass talking about this.”
“I’m going to assume there’s a point to it all,” I said, meaning it but hoping I was right. As much as I accepted that he had been with other men, I didn’t want to linger on the topic. Actually, I didn’t know what we were doing right now.
“There is,” he said, and surprised me when his hand slid down to my side, wrapping around it gently and surprisingme even more by slowly pushing me back until I was pressed against the sliding glass door leading onto my deck. “See, I always thought I was a little gay, or you know, a little bi. Kind of obvious, at least to me, since I’d been with you, and I liked being with you even if I spent most of our time together freaking out that I was doing things the wrong way or that it might suddenly stop, and I’d be left having to turn you down because you deserved to be with someone who wanted to be with you completely.”
“You’re rambling,” I pointed out, but smiled gently.
“I am,” he said, and I felt his fingers flex against my side. “I’m trying to make a point here, but I’m doing a really shitty job.”
“I can just let you ramble and see if you eventually get there if you want.”
“Alright, now you’re just being an ass.”
“A little.”
“Stop it.”
