Pretend.
I wasn’t exactly about to have a hard time pretending to be into being a half-inch away from him.
Out of the corner of my eye, I could see him holding his phone out.
Right, pictures.
Damnhe smelled good at this distance, that lime and sea salt scent amplified by the warmth of his skin, curling around me and making my head feel light.
No one had ever been this close to Kieran andnotbeen into it, and that was a fact. I knew that as surely as I knew the sun would rise tomorrow because the earth was continuing to spin.
Kieran pulled back, a strange, glazed look in his eyes, and I assumed this was the part where he checked photos to decide if there was a good one, but another heartbeat went past, and he didn’t move.
His fingers were still shoved deep into my hair, thumb stroking my temple, but the camera couldn’t see that. Only Kieran and I knew he was doing it.
Another heartbeat, and then Kieran surged forward again, hot mouth suddenly covering mine and sending a rush of need flooding down my throat and into the pit of my stomach, a whimper escaping me even when I would have preferred it didn’t.
It’s for Instagram, I told myself, right up until I felt Kieran’s other hand on my shoulder, phone forgotten.
Kieran was kissing me. Kieran was kissing me forno reason.
He pulled back a moment later, leaving me dazed and confused, head still spinning.
My entire world had just changed and I didn’t know what to do about it. Kieran hadkissed meand I wanted him to keep doing it, and I wanted to know why, and if he’d do it again if I asked nicely.
Kieran, when I finally met his eyes, looked haunted.
“I…”
“Please don’t say you’re sorry,” I begged, voice pathetically soft. I couldn’t take it, I couldn’t hear that he wassorry. Not after all the years I’d spent wishing he’d do exactly that.
Well, notexactlythat. My teenage imagination hadn’t quite stretched to the fingers in my hair or the barest hint of tongue against the seam of my lips.
It wassomuch better than I’d ever imagined it would be, even if he’d taken me by surprise.
Kieran swallowed. “Not sorry,” he said. “If you didn’t hate it?”
“I didn’t hate it,” I admitted, unsure what was going on, here.
I couldn’t getthislucky, could I?
“I’m bi,” Kieran said, as though I wasn’t already in danger of passing out from shock right now. “I mean, I think, maybe, I dunno if that’s right. I don’t… know, but I don’t think… this is…”
Somehow, through my haze of surprise and lust in almost equal measures, I managed to take his hand and curl my fingers around it.
“Take your time,” I said, suddenly in unfamiliar territory.
No one had ever come out to me before. Not like this, not for what was clearly the first time.
“I’ve never said that out loud before,” Kieran said, as though he’d read my mind—or as though I was reading his. “I don’t think I’ve even reallythoughtit, exactly, but…”
I squeezed his hand.
I could do this, I could be the older, wiser gay brother Kieran needed right now, even though I was only a couple of months older than him. I’d at least been kissing men longer.
“Take your time,” I repeated, at a loss for what else to say. “Maybe a deep breath? I don’t know what I’m supposed to do if you pass out.”
“Draw a mustache on me with a Sharpie marker, obviously.” Kieran smiled weakly.
