"You’re getting it," he whispers. "Good boy."
I flinch. I am not okay. I want to die.
I hate how much that does to me.
I kiss him harder. Because I don’t know what else to do.
Because I want to drown this feeling before it gets too real. It’s too much. The way his hand fists my shirt. The way he tilts his head and deepens the kiss, like he wants more.
The way he moves against me, confident and slow and... shit.
Shit. No.
Fuck. My body absolutely betrays me.
I freeze.
Gio doesn’t notice. I break the kiss. He breathes out slowly, dazed.
He leans in again. Instinctively.
Like something in him’s being pulled back to me. Like my mouth is gravity. He quickly steps back. I flinch, just slightly. His eyes open. Confused.
"What—?"
"I’m—" I swallow. "Just give me a second."
I step away too fast. I lock the bathroom door like Gio’s about to bust through it and finish what we started.
He’s not. Obviously. But my hands are still shaking, my lips are still wet, and... I’m hard.
So hard I can barely think.
I stare down at myself, horrified.
"No, no, no, no, no," I whisper, pacing, one hand clutching my hair, the other hovering awkwardly near my waistband like that’s going to help.
"What the fuck."
I’m pretty sure this wasn’t supposed to happen.
This was a kiss. Afakekiss. With aguy.
A stupid plan to make someone jealous. And now I’m in Gio freaking Fontana’s bathroom with a fucking boner from hell.
It hurts. It actually, physically hurts. My pants are suffocating me. I sit on the closed toilet lid and bury my face in my hands, trying not to scream.
This is bad. This is so bad.
"Okay," I whisper to myself, "let’s think about literally anything else."
I press my fists to my forehead and start listing the dumbest things I can think of.
"Turtles wearing hats. My grandma’s meatloaf. That one time I fell into a bush during soccer practice. Uh, taxes. Boring taxes. Unpaid taxes. My professor’s eyebrows. The weird sound the fridge makes when it’s mad."
I snort.
Fuck. It’s not working.
