Stepping a little closer, I see a flash of apprehension in his eyes before they flick down to look at my lips. My tongue peeks out briefly to wet my lips, and he imitates the movement. I lean in closer, my breath fanning over his lips…
“Option three is you bending me over this counter and fucking me right now. Let go of all this pretense and just fucking take me the way we both know you want me.”
Will’s eyes dilate, and for a moment I think he might actually do something, but he still hesitates. Focusing my attention on hismouth, I exhale across his lips, then drop a slow, chaste peck at the corner of his mouth.
“Option three is the only one that comes with abut.”
“And that is?”
“You can’t accept me fully and then turn around and change your mind. If you choose option three, you’re mine and I’m yours and there’s no pretending there isn’t something between us,” I say. “It’s your choice, Will. I know what I want. As long as you’re open and communicate with me, I’m happy to follow your lead. No questions asked.”
I back away before I lose my resolve to let him be the one to take the next step. I know that I could easily seduce him into falling into bed with me right now, but I also know that seeing the regret in his eyes the next morning would kill me.
We walk toward the bedrooms together and stand outside the two doors for a few long, tense moments. Will’s fingers tentatively land on my bare shoulder, running them lightly down my back, leaving goosebumps in their wake.
“You were beautiful tonight,” he murmurs, and leans in to kiss my temple. “Goodnight, Ari.”
“Goodnight, Will.”
I sleep fitfully, but don’t have any nightmares. I just miss being next to him, curled up in his warmth.
I’m not sure what we’re doing, exactly. And I’m sure it’s probably a terrible idea. But to myself at least, I can admit that I’m willing to risk a lot to see where this goes. My dignity, for one. My comfort. My mental health.
The anticipation of getting what I’ve wanted for a long time is enough to put all that aside.
We don’t talk about it or make any decisions over the next week. We are invited to another exclusive party at the same club, but neither of us makes the move to suggest we go. It’s the night before a sold-out and over-packed show thanks to Jesse randomly deciding he wants to invite an entire football team, so not going doesn’t mean anything.
Outside of rehearsals, Will and I find a comfortable normalcy living in each other’s space again. He’s playful and almost even flirty, but never once acknowledges the conversation we had or what happened between us.
It’s not until we leave New York and our bubble pops that I realize his silenceishis decision. Whatever flirty side looks and easy banter we’ve cultivated in the confines of our condo evaporates. As if leaving the city means he can no longer remember the way he gasped my name while watching me come, Will reverts to the almost over-polite version of himself that he’s been since this tour started.
He’s chosen option one, and I have to be okay with it.
So when Will laughs and flirts with a gorgeous new flight attendant, I don’t allow myself to get upset. And when I find myself overthinking all the ways I’ll never compare to a blonde bombshell with a bright smile and easy laugh, legs for days, and important things like boobs and a wet pussy—I shut it down. Because spiraling never made me better. Just smaller.
We agreed that putting it all behind us and focusing on our relationship as friends, bandmates, and brothers is more important. I don’t get to be hurt because there was no promise for more. And I won’t allow myself to shrink again because I’m afraid of not measuring up.
So I let it go.
And when we’re having dinner in the hotel bar in Dallas and I meet the very charming, and very famous actor Alonso Carter, I allow myself to use my newfound confidence to open up to someone new in a way I never have.
Alonso is charming in a way that feels practiced but not insincere. He’s handsome, confident without coming off too cocky, and funny without trying too hard. I’m surprised to find how grounded he is, and enjoy what feels like a real conversation rather than a performance or polite interview. We talk about music and working in the entertainment industry, but we talk about things that matter too. We talk about current events and our roles as public figures to do what’s right. Too many people care more about their image than the impact they could actually have. It’s refreshing to talk animatedly about the things we want to do to make a difference and not the things we want to do to show off how much money we can blow.
The whole thing feels easy and real. And I walk away from it with three things:
Alonso’s phone number.
A casual meetup planned for tomorrow night after the concert so we can get to know each other a little better.
And a huge smile on my face, because I did it. I met someone in person and felt a connection, whether it’s friendship orotherwise, based on who I am as a person, not what I could do for them. It’s not something that I could have done before the journey of self-healing and discovery that I’ve been on.
I’m proud of me.
I don’t even worry when I find Will watching me with a confused, and somewhat constipated, expression. I don’t think anything of it at all.
FIFTEEN
WILL
