“Yeah, I know.” I kept my tone light and casual. I knew the last thing he wanted right now was anything intense or emotional from me. And I damn sure wasn’t going to risk pissing him off when I had him right where I wanted him. “MaybeIwanted to seeyou. Cold weather makes me clingy.”
He lifted his head to look into my eyes, his dark eyebrow cocked up. He didn’t need to say anything, and neither did I. He wasn’t going to admit that he’d needed someone, and I wasn’t going to call him out on it. We sat in silence for awhile, once he’d let his head fall back down onto my shoulder. I was pretty sure it was the closest thing to cuddling I was going to get from him, at least for the foreseeable future.
“Hey, Caelyx?” His voice was soft and sleepy now, like the adrenaline rush of emotions caused by whatever had upset him was starting to wear off and exhaustion was starting to catch up to him.
“Yeah?”
“What are your parents like?”
The question surprised me, as I couldn’t recall him asking me a single thing about my personal life ever, family orotherwise. It was on his mind because of whatever was going on with his mom, I was sure. I hoped it wasn’t too bad.
“Mm, my dad’s a business exec. I think you probably already knew that,” I mused, and felt his mouth curve against my shoulder as he smiled. “My mom…” I paused. I wasn’t exactly sure what to say about her. Most days, I felt like I barely knew her. I had more childhood memories involving my live-in nanny than her. And truth be told, she’d never taken much of an interest in me. “She’s kind of a trophy wife, I guess. She’s with him for all his press stuff, but most of the time she’s just planning her next vacation.”
“You’re not close with her?” He asked.
“I’m not close with either of them,” I said. “My dad thinks I’m a total screwup, and I don’t even think she knows my name most of the time. She’s got kind of a pop and pour habit, if you know what I mean.”
“Pop and pour?” He repeated.
“Pop a pill, pour another glass of wine.”
He lifted his head to lock eyes with me in an intense stare, his eyebrows furrowing together.
“I’m sorry,” he finally said.
“Nah, it’s fine, Cupcake,” I assured him. I’d come to terms with all that before I’d even graduated from high school. Taking advantage of the sympathetic look in his pretty hazel eyes, I reached out and brushed a lock of his hair off his forehead, tucking it behind his ear. “At the end of the day, I’m lucky. I know that.” I felt particularly lucky in that specific moment.
He didn’t disagree with me, but the soft look in his eyes didn’t fade either, before he ducked his head and tucked back into my chest. He’d gone limp, practically laying on me now. I wondered how long I’d have to sit there for him to fall asleep in my lap. He was like a cat, a moody one that was stingy with his attention, so disturbing him felt out of the question.
“Did you eat that cake pop?” He asked, and the corner of my mouth quivered, just like when he’d given it to me. I was glad he wasn’t looking at my face this time, so he didn’t get mad again.
“Yeah,” I lied. “It was really, really good. Thank you.” I couldn’t eat it, but I’d have taken a bullet before admitting that to him, when he’d been so sweet for me.
“You’re welcome.”
We talked for a little while longer, his voice becoming increasingly softer and sleepier, until finally he stopped answering me, his chest rising and falling against me in a perfect, serene rhythm. He’d fallen asleep. Was he vulnerable enough with other guys to fall asleep on them? Was I experiencing a rare phenomenon? I basked in it for a few minutes, listening to his quiet, rhythmic breathing, before softly pressing my lips into the top of his head.
As much as I hated to admit it, I couldn’t sit out there with him all night. We were both twisted into odd, somewhat awkward positions to accommodate each other, and I knew he’d probably wake up with a sore back if I let him.
“Come on, Cupcake,” I murmured to him, gently nudging at his side to wake him up. “Let’s get you to bed.”
He groaned lightly, nuzzling his face into my shoulder, sending tingles down from that area into my stomach. But when I reached down under his thighs to scoop him up myself, he went stiff all over and let out a little growl.
“If you pick me up, I swear to god I will never forgive you,” he warned me, and I couldn’t help but snort at the juxtaposition between his soft, drowsy voice and the vitriolic tone he’d used.
“Okay,” I said quickly, yanking my hands back and showing him my palms in submissive surrender. “No picking you up, ever. Noted.”
I stood and pulled him up along with me, my pulse tripping at the way he leaned back against the wall, staring up at methrough his lashes. I slipped my hands around his waist to steady him, stroking my thumbs on his warm skin, just under the hem of his t-shirt.
He’d never looked so incredibly fucking kissable, all pliant and sleepy with his pink lips just barely parted into a tiny ‘o’ shape. My heart pounded up into my ribs, and my cock stirred as I imagined hoisting him up, wrapping his thighs around my waist, and crushing my mouth to his. Knowing that would likely result in mortal injury for me, I just brushed the pad of my thumb over his bottom lip. He glared, inhaling deeply.
“Keep dreaming, pervert,” he advised me, and a grin carved itself across my face. He was eerily good at knowing what was in my head sometimes. Or maybe I was just an obvious kind of person.
“I will,” I assured him. It was funny, he seemed to consider rubbing cocks together to be a perfectly acceptable way to spend our time, but the moment I wanted a kiss, I was a total deviant. “You want me to walk you to your bed?”
“No.”
“Why, because you’ll be too tempted to just let me crawl in there with you and cuddle with me all night?”
