I can’t stand the disappointment in his tone. “No, you have nothing to be sorry about.” I struggle to bring my brain back online. “I’m surprised because I wouldn’t have guessed it. Seriously. That was … wow.”
His cheeks get redder as he tries to hide the way that lights him up. But I don’t want him to hide it. I want to see that light shining out of him all the time.
“I’m also very confused because how the hell haven’t guys been all over you? What was wrong with the queer men in Lincoln?”
Ziggy taps his lips, and I get what he means.
“You don’t need to talk in a glory hole.” By the disgusted face he pulls, I guess that answers that question. “Hey, don’t knock it until you try it. I mean, I only tried it once, and I was very,verydrunk and heartbroken, but it was sex. Sex is good.”
His lips twitch. “Very good.”
I stretch across the bed, trying not to let that go to my head. “Outstanding.” And as much as I’d love to spend the night complimenting his skills, we’ve reached the part of the conversation I know needs to be had, but I’d rather avoid.
“What now?” he asks, proving that Ziggy has way more confidence than I give him credit for.
It’s also not a question I have an answer to.
My gaze strays from him across the room, and I try to separate my thoughts. On the one hand, sex like that is something I’m not turning down in a hurry, but … it’sZiggy.He feels like my first real friend. The first person I’ve had a real connection with since my brothers grew up and closed off.
I’m worried that if we sleep together again, and again, I’ll fall into old habits. That my feelings will take over, and common sense will go out the window, and Ziggy will break my heart like everyone else inevitably does.
“I don’t want to lose you.” It’s the only truth I have for him. “I look forward to seeing you and spending time with you. I like having a friend who’s all mine.”
Ziggy’s hand covers mine.
“But also … it’s not only my choice,” I point out. “You have an opinion too.”
His glare doesn’t have much heat behind it, more like he was hoping I wouldn’t ask. I wait him out, hoping that with enough time, he’ll find the words he needs. Just when I’m about to give up, his mouth moves. “I don’t want to lose you either.”
“Okay.” That reply boosts me. “Then we don’t.”
Okay.
“We stay friends.”
Good.
I’m interpreting his nods with no idea if I’m getting it right, but he doesn’t correct me. It feels like we’re both on the same page, so that’s good … I think. “And we just … don’t do this again.”
I’m not sure if that’s a question or a statement, but Ziggy doesn’t answer. His large eyes are watching my face, more like he’s curious than offended or pissed off.
“Right?” I check, needing him to give me something.
His hold on my hand tightens briefly before he lets go, dragging his gaze with him. He pulls his knees up to hug against his chest as he looks at the bed. “You want to fall in love.”
I have no idea where he’s going with that. “Yes.”
“For the last time.”
I know I told him that only a few hours ago, but it sounds odd repeated back to me. No less true though. I can feel how tired my heart is of constantly being stomped on, and I don’t think I can put myself through that again. “Yeah.”
“How will you know?”
“What do you mean?”
It looks like he’s chewing on his tongue, maybe thinking about how to reword his question. “How will you know it’s the last time?”
That’s a question I’m not expecting, and in Ziggy’s soft tone, it somehow hits harder. “I won’t. That’s the hard part.” My chuckle is self-deprecating. “I’m a terrible judge of something like that. I’m hit with so manythis is itmoments, and it’s never been it. All that talk about listening to your gut is useless on me because my gut is obviously drunk and wearing lust goggles.” That’s the sad reality, isn’t it? In my desperation to find the one, I’ll settle foranyone. What if Ziggy is the one person who doesn’t get sick of me, and then a year down the track, I realize I’m only with him because I had no other options?
