Even if I’m clueless.
Even if I’m terrified I’ll do something wrong.
I want to figure it out with him.
I don’t want some random boy to be the first. I don’t want a drunk mistake, or a blur I will later pretend I don’t remember.
I want to learn this with Gio.
Even if I mess up. Even if I’m awkward. If I’m going to find out what it’s like to be with a guy, I want my first lesson to be him. I don’t want it to be anybody else.
50) Answer It
Rava
It's night, so our chances of doing anything "productive" are basically zero.
Our last night in Spain.
Last night we get to be something more than two coworkers.
Last night we don't have to act. I'm not ready to say goodbye to something that hasn't even started yet.
I already miss these days, and they're not even over. God, I hope Gio feels a fraction of this. He tries to fold his shirt, but all he does is turn it into a wrinkled ball.
"Turn around," he says. "I'm failing because you're watching me."
"Oh, definitely," I laugh. "I'm sure that's it." I keep watching anyway. His hands move, frustrated. He pushes his wet hair back.
The shirt he's wearing tonight? Way too tight. Probably on purpose.
"Is that your strategy?" I ask, trying to focus on rolling up my belt. "Distract the airport security with your biceps so they don't check your overweight baggage?"
He grins. "You think these are distracting?"
Then flexes. Fully. Unironically.
"You're a menace."
"Say thank you."
I'mthisclose. I'm literally one breath away from thanking him for waking up whatever the hell he woke up inside me. And I have so many reasons to thank him, it's embarrassing.
I loop my belt, bend over the suitcase to shove it in, and he taps my ass with his foot, gently.
Like he's sayingthis is minewithout actually saying it. I whip around immediately.
He's sprawled across the bed now, stretching. He winks at me. I look down by accident, and catch a full view of his thighs.
His ridiculous, unfair,massivethighs.
I swallow hard. How did I manage to makethat, want me?
How does someone likehimlooked at someone like me and decided: yeah, I'll take that one?
I want to scream it. Show it off. Wear it like a medal. But no, I have to shove it deep down and pretend it doesn't exist.
Because back home, "Gio" is the forbidden word.
