He exhaled slowly, some of the tension leaving his shoulders. “You scared me too. I thought—I thought maybe I’d pushed you too far. That you were going to come back and tell me we could never do that again.”
“Is that what you want? To do it again?”
James pulled up to a red light and finally turned to look at me fully. The intensity in his eyes made my breath catch. “Yeah, I want to do it again. But only if you’re sure. Only if this is what you want and not just some... experiment.”
“I don’t know what I am,” I admitted. “Gay, bi, whatever label you want to put on it. I don’t have it figured out. But I know that being with you felt right in a way nothing else ever has. And I know that sitting in this car right now, soaking wet and freezing, all I can think about is kissing you again.”
The light turned green, but James didn’t move. A car behind us honked, and he jumped, pressing on the gas. His hand found mine across the console, lacing our fingers together.
“We’ll figure it out,” he said. “Together.”
I squeezed his hand, warmth spreading through my chest that had nothing to do with the car’s heater. “Okay. But… can I ask a favor?”
“Anything.”
“Don’t tell anyone,” I said, the fear creeping into my voice. “I don’t know how long I’ll need to figure this all out. Weeks,months…years… But I don’t want to explain it to anyone before I even understand what’s going on.”
James’s hand tightened around mine for a moment before he lifted it to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to my knuckles. The gesture was so tender, so unexpected, that it made my chest ache. Up until that moment, I never knew I’d craved those small touches.
“I won’t tell anyone,” he promised. “Take all the time you need.”
Chapter 16
James
It had been two days, and I still found my brain occupied by Kent nearly every waking moment of my life. And when I was asleep, he dominated my dreams completely. More than once I’d woken up in the middle of the night, rock hard, and grinding against the mattress.
I’d taken to cold showers just to get some relief, but they only helped temporarily. An hour later, I’d be right back where I started, hyperaware of Kent’s presence in my apartment, of the way he moved through the space like he belonged there.
We hadn’t talked about what happened. Not really. Kent had gone to work the morning after our rainy reunion, and when he came home, we’d circled each other like wary animals. Polite. Careful. Neither of us willing to be the first to acknowledge the elephant in the room.
But the tension was unbearable.
I could feel his eyes on me when he thought I wasn’t looking. Caught him staring at my mouth when I was talking about something mundane like what to order for dinner. And I was just as bad, tracking his movements, remembering what it felt like to have his hands on me.
It was driving me insane.
I was supposed to be working on the rebrand project for my new client, but I’d been staring at the same blank Photoshop canvas for twenty minutes. My laptop sat on the kitchen table, cursor blinking mockingly at me while my mind replayed the feeling of Kent’s cock sliding against mine, the desperate sounds he’d made, the way he’d looked at me like I was the only thing in the world that mattered.
The front door opened and I jumped, minimizing the empty project like I’d been caught watching porn. Kent walked in, still in his work clothes. He had on dark jeans and a button-down that did nothing to hide how his body had filled out since high school. He’d always been athletic, but now I noticed there was a solidity to him that made my mouth go dry.
“Hey,” he said, setting his keys on the counter.
“Hey.” I forced myself to look back at my laptop screen, pretending to be absorbed in work.
I heard him move through the apartment, the sound of the fridge opening, and a soda can being popped open. Then footsteps approaching. He appeared beside me, leaning against the table with a beer in hand.
“You’ve been staring at that screen for five minutes without moving the mouse,” he observed.
Shit. He caught me.
“Just thinking.”
“About work?”
I finally looked up at him, and the expression on his face told me he knew exactly what I’d been thinking about. Heat crept up my neck.
“Not exactly,” I admitted.
