He sounded so worried. After everything, he thought he owed me an apology. He’d done nothing wrong. That almost had me opening the door and inviting both him and the conversation we should probably have in, but I didn’t want to confront my shame or what came next for us.
“Okay. Well, I’ll be in the living room if you need anything. Take all the time you need.”
He waited a few moments for me to respond. When I didn’t, his footsteps moved away from the door.
Another hour passed before I left the sanctuary of the bedroom and wandered into the living room. Luke sat on thecouch, watching a sports highlights program. He turned the moment he heard me.
“Hey,” he said, his voice soft and a little uncertain. “Dinner’s still warm on the stove if you’re hungry.”
“I... yeah. Thanks.” But before I headed to the kitchen I paused. “You’re not going to say anything?”
Frowning, he ran his hand through his hair. “I didn’t think you wanted me to. I’m kinda taking your lead here. What do you want me to say?”
“You’re not mad at me?”
“Why would I be mad at you?”
I let out a huffy sound, too bitter and too wounded to be anything humorful. “Gee, I don’t know, Luke. Maybe because you, a straight, demi-ace man, had to feel another man’s erect cock pressing into you without your consent!”
My voice rose in pitch with each word, but I couldn’t stop, everything rushing out.
“Because you have to live with me now? Because I took something safe and respectful and twisted it into I don’t even know what.”
I began pacing, my hands flailing.
“And now what? We pretend it didn’t happen? You walk on eggshells, or worse, you avoid me because you don’t want to make it awkward? Because I made it awkward?”
Looking toward him, I thought I might see discomfort, frustration, anything that would confirm my fears. Instead, his expression held no trace of tension. Only quiet intensity filled his eyes, a small, kind smile softening his face. I didn’t understand what he had to smile about but it caught me mid–free fall and yanked me back to solid ground.
“I’m sorry,” I choked out, stopping mid-stride, my shoulders slumping, all the fight leaving my body.
He gestured to the cushion beside him.
I hesitated, unsure if I deserved to be so close to him again, but eventually, I lowered myself onto the far end of the couch.
“Can I hug you?” he asked.
“Hug me?”
“Only if you want.”
“I don’t understand. Why would you want to?”
“Because it seems like you could use one.”
“I could, actually.”
“Then get in here, partner,” Luke said, scooting closer until his arms were around me. I sank into his solid frame. “That’s it. And we’re goin’ premium emotional-support hug, which means you get the forehead press for closeness and light back pats for reassurance.”
In spite of myself I snort laughed. “That’s a lot of emotional intelligence and touch affirmation coming from a man who probably owns flip-flops with bottle openers.”
“Hey, don’t be insulting my Reefs. You’re not livin’ if you don’t have shoes with a built-in bottle cap opener on the sole.”
I pulled back, horrified.
Luke chuckled, giving my nose a quick tap. “Got you. That’s what you get for knockin’ my methods. I got your brain to halt out just long enough to get you out of your spiral, and made you laugh, which was the whole point.”
Of course it was, and of course it worked.
