I can’t help it, though. He keeps saying all the strangest things.
I squint my eyes at him. “You said blow jobs?...instead of eating a girl out?”
He gets up from his seat and walks over to me, taking the joint from my fingers and bringing it to his lips. I stare up at him as he does this. He shrugs simply, blowing a thick cloud into the night sky.
“I mean, it’s good for both,” he shrugs.
I stare up at him as he exhales another puff, confident and unbothered. Honestly, I don’t think the weed is hitting him at all.
My eyes drift down his body until I realize he’s standing between my spread legs. Does he even care?
I shift awkwardly in my seat.
“So…bothas in…you’re bi or pan…or whatever?” I ask.
A faint smirk pulls at Noah’s lips as his eyes dip to mine. “Yeah, I guess I’m bi or panor whatever.” His voice is low, teasing. “I guess I’d be pan, if I had to label it.” He shrugs, like it doesn’t matter, but his eyes stay locked on mine.
Myjaw clenches and I force myself to look away.
I shouldn’t know this much about him. And yet…I can’t stop feeling curious.
So, he’s been with guys. That mouth... has been wrapped around a dick…
I swallow thickly.
How could he be so nonchalant about it? He doesn’t even know me, and yet he tells me like it doesn’t phase him at all? What if I was a homophobic psychopath?
Unless…hewantedto tell me.
Before I can think better of it, I’m searching for his eyes again. Looking up at him, I see him staring down at me. His black hair falls over his forehead and into his eyes. I want to sweep his bangs back, just to see them clearly.They're so pretty.
“You think my eyes are pretty?” he asks, tilting his head. His gaze flicks to my lips.
My heart starts thumping in my chest as panic rises in my throat.
“Did I say that out loud?”
“You haven’tstoppedtalking.” He laughs, finishing up the smallest pull before he flicks the little nub over his shoulder and straight into the fire.
“Seriously? Oh fuck.” I sigh, rubbing my hands against my face. This isn’t good.
“It’s no worries,” he says, still standing between my legs. “I think yours are pretty, too.”
“You can’t say that.” I shake my head even if I want to hear it again.
His eyebrows furrow. “Why not?”
The pressure builds in my chest as the guilt flows through me. “Because I’m with your mother. You shouldn’t…say certain things.”
Hislips quirk back into that annoyingly charming smile.What does he think is so damn funny?
“The fact that you’reclearlyworried that calling my eyes pretty makes you gay.” He laughs.
My heart jumps into my throat.
Fuck! I need to shut the hell up.
I stand abruptly, almost knocking Noah back in the process. “Sorry. I just…I should go to bed,” I stammer.
