“I can do that.”
“Yeah?” That fucking pure joyful hope in his eyes solidifies my decision.
“Yeah.” I nod, smiling back. “Under one condition.”
His face drops. “What?”
“You have to break up with Taylor. Officially and publicly. To the world, you need to be single. You don’t have to be in a relationship with me, but you can’t be in one with her.”
He sighs, but nods, making me relax a bit. “Yeah, I can do that. I think it’s what has needed to be done for a long time now. With us graduating, we can’t keep lying to the world. We don’t have to come out, but we can’t keep using each other as a shield. We’re older now. We’re stronger. We will still have each other, but yeah, it’s time.”
“Thank you,” I tell him. “I know it’s a lot to ask, but–”
“No, it’s not,” he insists. “If I’m going to be yours, I’m only going to be yours. The same goes for you.”
“There’s no one else.” I smile.
“Not even Roland?” He means it as a tease, but I see the insecurity there.
“No.” I shake my head. “I think I was just trying to convince myself there could be something with him because I couldn’t have you.”
“But you have me now.” He growls, kissing me hard.
“I do.” I laugh against his lips. “There’s something I still need to do, though.”
“What?” he asks, shutting the water off.
“I need to let him down.”
“What do you mean?” His brows furrow as we step out. I grab a towel and wrap it around myself, and hand him a clean one.
Not that it will do much. He’s drenched head to toe.
“Well, there was that kiss in front of the whole school,” I say guiltily.
“Don’t remind me.” He growls, and I grin.
“Fuck, it shouldn’t get me this hard to see you jealous.”
“Shut up,” he mutters.
“No, really.” I open the towel, showing him I’m hard and ready to go again.
He groans. “I really don’t have anything left in my balls.”
“Fuck off.” I laugh. “But yeah, I have to talk to him. He asked if we could be something more. And clearly, that's never going to happen. But Roland is a nice guy, a good friend, and I owe him more than a text message. He’s been out with his broken knee, but he’s coming back to school on Wednesday. I’ll talk to him then.”
“No, you don’t,” he grumbles.
“You really are so damn cute.”
“Fuck off.” He flips me off.
“I’d rather fuck you,” I tease, but the way his eyes heat, I don’t think he’d be opposed to it.
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” I ask, stepping forward. “Me owning that perfect bubble butt of yours.”
“I do not have a bubble butt,” he scoffs.
