Yes, Oakley is a supportive friend and teammate, and from what I remember, he’s relatively smart. But Logan’s approach to helping me wasn’t somethinganyof my friends would think of, no matter how intelligent or kind they are. Apart from trained professionals in the learning disability field, I doubt most people would have even bothered to help me.
Logan did, though.
“Fair enough,” Logan mutters under his breath.
I relax ever so slightly, thankful he’s taken my point to heart, before saying, “And besides, I have zero interest in fucking Oakley. Quinton would probably mount my head on a spike above their bed if I did.”
His teeth scrape over his lower lip for a moment, and the slightest hint of color infuses his cheeks. It’s only then that I realize, far too late, what idiotic sentiment just left my mouth, and I’m left rushing to amend it.
“Not that I’m trying to fuck you. I mean, I would, don’t get me wrong. It just wasn’t something I thought about. Like, I didn’t even know you were bi until you kissed me and came upwith this whole scheme, so…”
Wow, way to sound like even more of an imbecile, Cam.
Logan’s cheeks pinken even more, and he clears his throat.
“I, uh… Don’t worry, I knew what you meant,” he says tightly, the words still coming out a little choked. “And the whole bi thing… I don’t know. I guess who I sleep with isn’t something I feel the need to broadcast, unlike some people I know.”
My lips curl into a smirk, knowing damn well the dig was aimed at me. I don’t mind, under these circumstances, though. The shift to playful teasing actually alleviates some of the tension thickening the air in the kitchen, which I’m grateful for after making a goddamn fool of myself just now.
“Still trying to slut shame me, I see,” I toss back, easing into the banter with him. “But for your information, I’m not bi. I’m pan.”
“Isn’t that basically the same thing?”
“They’re similar, but again, in the way of, like, squares and rectangles and shit.”
Arching a brow, he laughs out a sharp, “What?”
I tip my head back and forth, looking for the best way to explain my knowledge on the subject. Which may be rather limited, seeing as I can only speak from my own experience, but it’s better than nothing.
“So I guess the main difference of being a pansexual—and this is just my takeaway—is I don’t really have preferences when it comes to my partners. I’m attracted to what’s inside the package,” I say, gesturing to the length of his body before motioning to his crotch, hidden behind the counter. “Not justthatpackage.”
“How eloquently put,” he teases, and I chuckle.
“Crass as it may be, I give more of a shit about what’s in your chest than in your pants. But that doesn’t stop me from wanting to get well acquainted with both.” I wink before adding,“Consensually, of course.”
His eyes roll before he offers a dry, “Don’t hold your breath.”
“Oh, I know. I’d probably die waiting.”
“Then I’d be free of you, and that would just be a shame,” he drawls slowly, voice dripping with sarcasm. But despite the little smirk tugging at his lips, I can’t help but feel a little pang of disappointment.
It’s not about the wholeno sexrule of our deal—I understand that part completely. It’s how, every time we make a little headway toward actual friendship, he pumps the brakes. Like he refuses to lean into the idea of becoming real, true friends, so he shifts the banter a little too close to how it was before.
It’s a pattern I’ve noticed, and what usually follows is him pulling back into the comfort of his grumpy, hard shell. Where it’s safe.
And it sucks, because it doesn’t have to be that way.
“I knew there’d be someone who could resist my charm one day. Just a pity it had to be you.”
The words spill out of their own volition, and I don’t know who is more shocked by it. From the way Logan’s brows hitch up, it might be him.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Fuck if I even know.
“Nothing, Little Reed.” I pause as a completely different realization slams into me hard enough, it makes me nauseous. “Wait, did you say you don’t broadcast your sexuality?”
He nods, and I swear to God, it takes every bit of my self-control not to vomit as the next words leave my mouth.
