“Copy that!” Yulian jumps up and I hate the feeling of emptiness that lodges itself beneath my bones when my hand falls from his face, and he’s no longer touching me.
“Will go run the water for a bath.”
“I’ll change the sheets.”
“They’ll be dry by the time we’re done.”
“That’s so unhygienic. Don’t be disgusting.”
He rolls his eyes but says nothing as he stops at the foot of the bed, then taps my inner thigh where the tattooed series of numbers is. “What does that mean?”
I have to stop myself from eyeing his half-erect cock standing at attention between his legs.
“Mishka?” He waves his hand in front of my face.
“It’s nothing,” I say quietly.
“No way in hell would you have a tattoo that means nothing.”
I shrug but don’t elaborate.
He narrows his eyes, obviously wanting to push, but he must think better of it, because he sighs. “Clean sheets are in the closet. I think.”
“You think?”
“I don’t change my own sheets, so no business being in the closet.” He waggles his eyebrows. “Though I’m technically still there. In the closet, I mean.”
I frown.
“You know, because I can never officially come out. It’s a sexuality joke. Forget it, it’s so boring when I have to explain it.”
“Gareth said you’re openly bi,” I say, sitting up.
He grins. “You’ve been asking your friends about me?”
Worse.
One of the reasons I even came here tonight was because Gareth sent me a picture of this motherfucker throwing his arms around a professor. He was acting so open and familiar, it sent bile to my throat.
“I mean, I am.” He lifts a shoulder. “On campus and behind closed doors, though. Can’t really do anything in public.”
Tension crowds his shoulders, and I want to reach out and smooth it. Yulian is usually happy-go-lucky. It’s alarming to see him so tense.
“When did you figure it out?” I ask. “Your sexuality, I mean.”
“Why are you asking?” His tone isn’t accusatory, more low and husky.
“It’s just…four years ago, you only mentioned girls, so I’m just curious.”
“You were in a relationship with a girl until not too long ago, but now you’re in my bed.”
“Are you trying to piss me off?”
“No, just saying that sometimes, sexuality is fluid. And it can change.”
“When did it change for you?”
He pulls his bottom lip between his fingers. “It’s a secret.”
