He could feel it. He could imagine it. And he wanted it so much. But he held himself still.
“Yes, I do. I’d love to kiss you,” he breathed, not even trying to keep the emotion out of his voice. “I, uh, think about it all the time.”
Rye’s thumbs stopped moving, and the silence stretched on for a beat. Then Jake heard him take another deep breath, and he spoke quietly and slowly. “I... might want to. Soon. Maybe tonight... later.”
Jake squeezed his eyes shut harder, fighting the urge to gather Rye up in his arms and kiss him right there. That certainly was not what Rye was ready for or suggesting he might want to do, but Jake couldn’t help imagining it. The words repeated themselves in his head—Soon. Maybe tonight... later—and he swallowed hard, trying to calm his racing heart.
“That would be wonderful,” he managed. “But only if you’re sure you’re ready.”
“I-I don’t know if I am. But I wanted to tell you I’ve been thinking about it,” Rye said, and his fingers started playing with Jake’s hand again. When he ran his fingertips lightly over the top of Jake’s fingers, Jake shivered. “I... I was wondering what it would have been like if you’d kissed me earlier. At your car.”
“In the rain?”
Rye nodded. “But then, um, I thought maybe I should kiss you first. Maybe... something smaller. Like...”
Jake sucked in a breath and watched, his heart pounding, unsteadily and without any sort of regular rhythm, as Rye slowly lifted Jake’s hand. He held it a little tighter and brought it up closer to his lips, and then he paused.
“May I?”
God.
Rye’s breath was hot on his skin, so close, and it sent a jolt through him, pleasant and intense and also disorienting in a way Jake had never felt before.
“Y-yeah,” he answered, though the single word caught in his throat.
Rye’s lips twitched up briefly into a small smile, and Jake held his breath, waiting as the seconds stretched out.
And then it happened. Rye lowered his lips to Jake’s hand and pressed a long, slow kiss on Jake’s knuckles. It was soft. And warm. And such a tiny thing, much too brief. Yet, Jake felt it so deeply.
Rye straightened up, and his thumb brushed over the spot he’d just kissed as though soothing the burn. It just made Jake’s skin even hotter, though, and he closed his eyes, barely able to hold back the onslaught of emotions rocking him.
Some small sound escaped him, maybe a hum—definitelynota whimper—and Rye’s fingers tightened around his as their hands drifted back down to rest on Jake’s thigh.
“Was that . . . okay?” Rye asked quietly.
Jake nodded, but he couldn’t answer aloud for another moment because Rye did it again. Not the kiss, but the brush of his thumb overthat spot. He swallowed hard and forced another small nod, then cleared his throat lightly. He wanted to say something more than justyes. He wanted to tell Rye how profoundly different all of this was, how much he’d enjoyed just that small touch, how incredible it had felt. How he’d love for Rye to kiss him again—just like that. But his brain was definitely not functional right then.
He tried anyway.
“That felt . . . mmm . . .”
But he trailed off when Rye’s thumb rubbed over the spot once more. It felt even better, warm and tender and sweet, and he hummed and rested his cheek back on top of Rye’s head, unable to make any better words come.
There was a quiet chuckle next to him. “So good you’re speechless?”
“Mm-hmm. I... I’ve never felt anything like that before.”
Rye shook his head, and his thumb stopped moving as he seemed to tense up. “It was just... nothing. Not even a real kiss. Because I...”
He didn’t finish his sentence, but he didn’t have to; Jake could almost feel the words he hadn’t said, his guilt and shame, his tension. He fought the urge—yet again—to kiss the top of Rye’s head, and then he said, softly, “It wasn’t nothing to me. It was everything. It meant everything. And it definitely was a real kiss. The best kiss I’ve ever had. I look forward to showing you just how good it feels when you’re ready.”
He hoped it was the right thing to say. Itwassuch a huge deal—as tiny as the gesture was—and heknewhow hard Rye must have worked to make it happen. Yet the tension in Rye’s shoulders didn’t seem to ease.
With another deep breath, Jake squeezed Rye’s shoulder lightly. “Do you want to talk about it more?”
“I, um... I think maybe later,” Rye said, but his words weren’t smooth anymore, and his voice trembled.
“Sure, of course. Whenever you’re ready. We have time.” Jake’s hand rubbed gently up and down Rye’s upper arm, and he waited silently, his eyes lightly closed. It was probably another few minutes until Rye’s fingers started caressing the back of his hand again.
