“Sex is supposed to be fun,” he continues. “It doesn’t need to be so much pressure. And if anyone,anyone, rejects you, then they must have their head so far up their own arse they can’t see.”
My lips tug into a tight smile as I stare across the couch at him. “You’re just saying that because you’re my best friend,” I say with a blush on my cheeks.
“I don’t think this is the kind of thing best friends say to each other, Colin.” His tone is suddenly serious, and he’s staring straight into my eyes, making my own smile fade. There’s heat drawing around my belly.
We both turn our attention back to the TV, staring at it numbly, but I can’t stop his words replaying in my head. Declan seems uneasy. I can tell how uncomfortable he is. And I start to worry that it was something I said.
“Are you hungry?” I say to kill the tension.
“Not yet,” he replies, going back to biting his bottom lip.
“Everything okay?” I ask.
“Aye,” he replies with a nod of his head. But I can tell he’s still pondering something in his mind.
I fall asleep on the couch after a little while and wake up a few hours later to the smell of Chinese food filling the flat. Declan is in the kitchen, and I rise slowly from the couch to greet him.
We eat in comfortable silence and then make our way back to the couch, where he puts on another movie. It grows dark through the window in the living room, and I start to feel restless, knowing that something is still bothering my friend—possiblysomething I said.
When the credits on the movie roll, I stand from the couch with a yawn and announce that I’m going to bed.
Declan only nods absentmindedly as he watches me go. But even as I get into bed, I am tossing and turning, bothered by the conversation we had this afternoon. And just when I’m about to climb out of bed to go out and speak with him, I notice him standing in the doorway.
“Hey,” I deadpan, sitting up.
He seems nervous, eyes wide, hands shoved into his pockets. He shuffles into the room as he responds, “Hey.”
“Everything okay?” I ask, growing anxious that he’s decided he doesn’t want to be my friend anymore or doesn’t want to keep up these summer meetups.
“Last year, before we graduated, I offered to have sex with you, so you didn’t have to graduate a virgin,” he says, cool and confident.
My cheeks start to blush, and arousal tightens in my groin. I clear my throat. “Uh-huh.”
“And I let you…” His voice trails, clearly uncomfortable with saying out loud exactly what went down last year.
“Declan, it’s okay,” I say to ease his nerves. “I’m not holding you to that.”
Ignoring me, he continues, “What we did was fun, but it was wrong of me to take and not return,” he says.
My jaw drops. “I never expected you to.”
“I know, but I should have.”
“It’s…it’s okay,” I stammer.
“No, it’s not,” he says in a scolding, serious tone. “I don’t want people taking advantage of you. You shouldn’t feel as if you have to please others without getting something in return.”
“Declan, seriously,” I say, growing agitated. “You don’t have to beat yourself up about it. I really didn’t—”
And then he interrupts me, stepping farther into the room. “Iwant to do it now,” he declares.
I’m frozen for a beat, staring at his silhouette and wondering if I’m hearing him correctly.
“What?” I croak.
“If you’ll let me. If you still want me to.”
Oh, my God.
