He lowered his head for another kiss, this time pressed into Rye’s hair, and he let his hand drift up and down Rye’s arm. Rye hummed contentedly, wriggled around as though to find the perfect comfortable spot, and then held the book open again to that very first page, resting his hands on Jake’s thigh. But he must have just been pretending to read, because he shifted the book a little and sort of... pressed down into Jake’s thigh more than strictly necessary. Maybe.
Jake was probably imagining it. But he suddenly found himself happy he’d opted to slip on some joggers over his sleep shorts all the same. He wasn’t entirely sure he’d be able to keep his body from reacting had Rye been touching his bare skin.
And just that mental image sent a rush of desire through him. He closed his eyes and groaned inwardly, sucking in a breath.
“Jake?”
“Hmm?”
“Are you ready for the next page?” Rye’s hands shifted on Jake’s leg, and Jake was now acutely aware of everything—of Rye’s undoubtedly innocent touch, the heat spreading both upward into his cheeks and down lower, thewantanddesire, both more than he’d ever felt before.
“Mmm, um, I . . .”
God, they should talk. Right?
Jake needed to get a hold of himself, for one thing; after all, he had no desire to do anything more than whatever Rye was ready for, and he didn’t want Rye to feel any pressure at all. But also, all these feelings were so incredibly new for Jake still, and he’d never really had to learn how to deal with them before.
It was almost like... like if it continued this way much longer, he’d need to... to go and take care of things himself. In his bedroom. Alone.
He cringed. “Rye, um, I’m feeling a bit, um... uncomfortable,” he admitted, and something almost like shame burned his cheeks.
Immediately, Rye closed the book and shifted in Jake’s arms to look up at Jake over the top of his reading glasses. His eyebrows pinched together in confusion, and he frowned.
“Sorry,” Jake apologized, swallowing hard. “I shouldn’t have said anything. I just, um”—he closed his eyes and dropped his chin a bit—“can you, maybe, not put your hand on my leg? Maybe. It’s, um,morethan just distracting.”
And when he said it out loud, it felt even more silly.
But he felt Rye move away for a moment to set the book and what sounded like his reading glasses on the coffee table. Then Rye’s hand found Jake’s chest. Rye didn’t say anything, but he settled his head into the crook of Jake’s shoulder. The silence persisted for a few more seconds, until Rye moved again, his hand coming up to touch Jake’s cheek.
“I . . . I’m sorry.”
“Oh, no, no.” Jake shook his head and opened his eyes. Rye was looking up at him, soft concern in his expression. “What are you sorry for?”
With a tight smile, Rye’s hand traced a path back down to Jake’s chest. “For assuming you’d be okay with... whateverIfelt ready for.”
So Jakehadn’tbeen imagining it. Ryehadbeen... exploring. More heat shot into Jake’s cheeks, and he pursed his lips and lowered his eyes to where Rye’s hand rested, right in the center of his chest. He could still feel it, though, the pressure of Rye’s hand on his thigh from a moment ago. He took a deep breath to steady himself.
“It’s not—it’s not that I’mnotokay with it,” he said, stumbling slightly over his words. “It’s that, uh, I’m not used to my body reacting like it has been.” His cheeks seemed to grow hotter still, and he screwed his eyes shut, willing the words to come out, no matter how awkward they sounded. “And I don’t want to—to, uh...” He failed, though, because he realized he had no idea how the hell was he supposed to say anything without possibly upsetting Rye in some way. They obviously needed to discuss it, but he wasn’t really even sure how careful he needed to be with his words. He frowned and cleared his throat to try again.
“We haven’t talked about things—about being intimate, I mean,” he started, “and I don’t want to, um, make any assumptions about whatyou’recomfortable with. I also... I can control my actions, of course, but I apparently can’t control my body’sreactions, and you touching me like you were...” Jake trailed off, and he let his eyes open partway so he could see Rye.
Rye still had his head resting up against Jake’s chest, but now his fingers were playing with the fabric of Jake’s shirt. He didn’t seem nervous, and he hadn’t retreated or tensed up or stopped being able to communicate. But Jake had beenskirting around the issue. Not using specific words. Not saying the things he really needed to say.
“I remember telling you I didn’t know if I’d ever want to kiss you,” Rye said quietly, his fingers stilling on Jake’s shirt. He flattened his palm and pressed his hand lightly against Jake, and Jake felt the warmth of his breath as Rye let out a long, slow sigh, burrowing his head deeper into Jake’s shoulder.
“Yeah. And you said the same about—” This time, Jakedidfeel Rye tense, and he immediately stopped, his heart clenching. “Sorry.”
But then Rye shook his head and started talking again, his words slow but clear. “I really didn’t think I’d ever want it then. Even just to kiss you. Everything was all so... so tainted from what... happened to me. I don’t want to talk about that, though. I just want... I just want you to know thatIknow now.”
“What do you know?” Jake asked softly, lowering his cheek to rest against the top of Rye’s head.
Rye was quiet for another moment, then he took a deep breath and continued. “I... do want... it. I mean, I don’t want... um—” Rye shook his head, and his hand gripped Jake’s shirt.
A wave of strong, unsettling emotions hit Jake, and for a second, he couldn’t get himself to take a breath. He didn’t know whether to wait for Rye to continue or to try to fill in the blanks. He thought he had a pretty good idea where Rye had been going and what he’d been about to say, but hell if that wasn’t an even more difficult thing to talk about.
At least,ifhe was right, he could tell Rye they were one hundred percent on the same page. “I think I know what you were going to say, but I don’t want to bring it up if not.”
Rye nodded into him. “You’re probably right. I mean, you probably... knew what I was going to say. Um, I was—I was going to say that Idowant to, um, be intimate with you, but that I’ll never want... um...”
