Fucking hell, that sound. My dick perks up, wanting in on more of that action, but I send a silent message to him to calm down. I don’t want to pop wood in my compression pants at the diner. That would be disrespectful to Polly and her delicious waffles.
“Stop looking at me like that,” Elliot says after he swallows. I want to feed him another bite so I can watch his throat work next time.
And maybe hear that pretty moan again.
“Like what?”
“Like you just said you wanted to hook up with me tonight. You don’t hook up with anyone during hockey season. It’s one of your rules. And Alex, you’re straight.”
The last bit comes out sounding almost like anafterthought, if it weren’t for the rising panic in Elliot’s voice.
“I thought I was,” I shrug. “Turns out I’m not. No big deal, plenty of people have their bi-awakenings later in life. All those things you just said about your brain and your body not being on the same page? I feel them too. I’m attracted to you, El. It confused me at first, but I thought about it and it makes sense. I like the way you look. I like the way you feel. I liked it when you kissed me. I really, really liked it when you kissed me. I want more kisses. I want more…more. And I think you might be something of a good luck charm for me.”
Elliot blows out a long breath, tapping his fingers on the table top. My mouth grows drier than a desert as I watch him, itching to reach out and touch him, to run my fingers along his jaw. I wonder if it feels as hard as it looks, what it might feel like if I rub my cheek against it like a kitten.
“Okay. Okay. I think I need you to break this down for me one step at a time. You have a rule about not hooking up with anyone during the hockey season. But you let me kiss you and now you think I’m a good luck charm?”
“Absolutely. See, we kissed outside of my house, right? And the next game I played, I was on fire. I didn’t let a single puck past me. We won, and wewon again the night I made you send me an XOXO text before I hit the ice. Your kisses are good luck. Even your virtual kisses are good luck. So maybe my problem wasn’t that hooking up with someone is going to affect my game. Maybe I was just hooking up with the wrong people. Maybe that’s why the universe sent you to me, El.”
I shrug again, hoping I’m playing it cool enough and that my face isn’t giving away how ridiculously nervous I feel.
“But you were already on a hot streak before we met. That was like, the first thing we ever talked about.”
“True, but I’ve only gotten better since then. You should know, you’re totally obsessed with watching me play.”
“Okay…okay…okay. So, what? You think I’m a good luck charm so you use me as some gay fairy god mother who kisses you and jerks you off so you play better? Is that what you’re saying to me?” Elliot’s voice gets increasingly louder, a few patrons turn to find the source of the noise, and I fight the urge to shush him. Clearly I’m pissing him off, and the last thing I need to do is provoke him further.
“No, no no no no no,” I sputter, shaking my head furiously. “That’s not what I mean. I’m saying this allwrong, and I’m sorry. This has been a confusing couple of weeks for me.”
I cautiously reach out and place my hand on top of his. When he doesn’t immediately swat me away, I take a deep breath and push on, keeping my voice low so that I can speak freely. “Let me try to explain. I like you, Elliot. I’m not bullshitting you when I say that. I’m also not joking when I say that I think your…affections…have had a positive impact on my game. I have no intentions of using you, though. When you said you were attracted to me, I almost leapt out of my seat, I was so excited. This whole “figuring out I’m queer” thing isn’t that big of a deal to me. I don’t need to get a guy into bed to confirm what I know to be true, now. But I want to explore. I want to try things. I want to touch you, desperately. I love being your friend, and if that’s all you want to be, we can forget this conversation ever happened. But I think we might want the same things here. Maybe, if we give in and fool around, we’ll both get something out of it. We can scratch this itch of attraction, test my hook up theory, and once we’ve gotten each other out of our systems, we can go back to being besties.”
Or maybe we’ll fool around, realize we love it, realize we’re meant for each other and then fall madly in love and move to Wisconsin where we can raise a brood of hockeyplaying football stars, I think, though I wouldn’t dare say that part out loud. It’s clear that Elliot is something of a scared mouse right now, and I need to keep my inside thoughts to myself so I don’t push him away. I can say that I’m willing to bang out the sexual frustration and then go back to being friends, but the logical part of me knows that if I get Elliot into my bed, I’m never going to want to let him go. But even I know that my fantasies are nothing more than delusions of grandeur, so I’m willing to hurt my own feelings knowing that there’s no way I make it out of this without a broken heart.
He turns his hand over in mine so that our palms are touching, and gives me a light squeeze.
“I’m sorry, Goat. I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions like that. This is just…” he runs his free hand through his hair, messing up the golden brown locks. “It’s a lot to take in all at once. Five minutes ago, I thought you were going to hate me for asking you not to hug me because I’m too attracted to you. I feel like I’ve been on a tilt-a-whirl.”
I laugh, nodding.
“I get it. It's a lot of information to receive in thirty seconds, but once the hamster in my brain gets going on his wheel, there’s really no stopping him.” I tap my temple, and Elliot throws his head back with a laugh. This time, I get a full view of the tendons inhis neck, the way his Adam’s apple bobs with the force of his chuckles and the dusting of stubble on his chin as he comes down with a sigh.
“Yeah. I might need some time to think about all of this, if you don’t mind.”
Bummer. I would’ve liked to take him home so I could get to work licking that sexy neck.
“Yeah, no. I totally get it. Take all the time you need.”
He goes to stand, and panic sets in my chest. I didn’t think he meant he needed time starting right now.
“Aren’t you gonna eat that?” I ask, pointing stupidly at his untouched waffle, the whipped cream long melted and stained pink and purple from the berries.
“Nah, you can have it if you want. I’m gonna head home. You’ve got a trip coming up, right?”
“We leave for Tampa tomorrow morning, but I’ll be back on Saturday.” I know I sound like a pathetic, needy brat, but I can’t help it. Realizing I’m bisexual at twenty-seven is one thing, but baring a piece of my soul to the guy I barely know but that my heart tells me could be everything is something else entirely. I don’t want to wait until Saturday. I don’t want to wait another second. I want him to kiss me again, now.
“And I’ve got an afternoon game at home this week. That’s perfect. It’ll give us time to let all of this information digest. Let's hang out Sunday night, yeah? Maybe do movies and ice cream like we talked about. I can think about all of this and try to pretend like I’m not thinking about how fucking cute you are all weekend.”
Fuck. No kisses for Alex.
