I’ve done this for him before when we could take our time, when we knew we would be alone for hours, when we could enjoy each other just for the pleasure of it. But I don’t have that kind of time right now, because we could be missed at any moment, and because he said he needed this, neededmeto help set him right. So I don’t think about the party outside, about my brother or Sabrina or how long I might have to stand around avoiding small talk untilit’s over. I don’t think about the past, about how shocked I was when I realized I was the first person ever to do this for Cole, even though I definitely wasn’t his first.
I don’t think aboutanythingexcept his hand winding in my curls, encouraging me tomove, to slide my lips along his shaft. I think about the hard tile floor under my knees and his legs brushing my shoulders and the scent of him all around me and his smooth skin resting heavy on my tongue. I think about the burst of salt in my mouth, telling me he’s close, and about the soft grunts that fall from his mouth, the way his hips twitch as I take him apart.
“Ezra,fuck, I’m not gonna last, I’m —”
I’ve never been afraid of taking what he gives me, and so I stay where I am, milking him with my lips as he spills, working him through each shudder until he gently pushes me away. I swallow, wiping the edge of my mouth, and then I sit back on my heels and watch as he tucks himself back in his pants, as he reaches down to help me to my feet.
“Better?” I ask as he pulls me close to kiss me.
“Somuch better,” he whispers against my lips. “Can I do anything for you?”
“Nah, I don’t think so. Not right now, anyway.” I reach forward to button his shirt, tucking his hair behind his ear. “Besides, it’ll help us both get through the rest of this thing, knowing how hard I’m going to fuck you later.”
“Is that a promise?” Cole’s eyes are heavy-lidded, his hand resting on my shoulder.
“You can count on me,” I reply, and I mean it.
Ten
Stay
April 2013
“SO, CAN I LOOK NOW?My neck is starting to hurt.”
“Just another minute, babe. I’m almost there,” Cole replied, and I groaned.
I stared at the windowpane in front of me, slowly counting my breaths and trying to recall every lyric ofJesus of Suburbiaas a way to pass the time. We were upstairs in Cole’s bedroom after school, and he had asked if he could draw me. He’d positioned me on the floor in the dormer window, my face turned toward the light, one hand resting on my bent knee, and I could hear his charcoal scratching across thepage as I sat as still as I could. To be honest, it wasn’t just my neck. My ass was numb from sitting on the hard floor, and the draft from the window was raising goosebumps on my skin, even though it had been a relatively warm day. But I’d promised, and I knew Cole wanted to practice, so I tried my best to keep my mouth shut.
Finally, Cole breathed a sigh of contentment. “Okay, you can move.”
I stretched, rolling my shoulders and extending my legs in front of me, shaking them out as I let the tension ebb from my body. Cole scooted across the floor and wedged in next to me in the small space, burrowing under my arm and shyly offering me his notebook. “Wanna see?”
I took the notebook and held it out in front of me. “Wow, you made me look —wayhotter than I actually am.”
I didn’t have any illusions about what I actually looked like. I mean, I had to get up every morning and look at my own face in the mirror before I got in the shower. But the version of me that Cole had put on the page just looked — interesting. The light falling across my face made me look like I had something deep on my mind, like I was searching for the right inspiration. And somehow he’d made my body seem both soft and strong, a little rugged in my plaid shirt, warm and approachable. I couldn’t believe it was me.
Cole dropped a kiss on my shoulder, then laid hishead there, throwing his arm across my middle. “That’s what you really look like, sweetheart. I wouldn’t change a thing about you.”
“Why are you so perfect?” I lifted his chin up for a kiss that made my heart beat faster, my blood rushing down below my waist. But then a twinge of pins and needles drew a groan from my lips, and I pulled back. “Fuck, I have to get up off this floor before my ass falls off.”
Cole cackled. “Well, wedefinitelydon’t want that.”
I stood up and stretched, walking around the room to let the feeling return to my legs. When I passed Cole’s desk, I noticed an open envelope with the Yale crest, the folded letter tossed onto the desk beside it, and I picked it up almost without thinking about it.
“Cole, what’s this?”
“No,wait— You don’t need to —” Cole strode across the room to take the letter from me, but I had already seen the first line.
The Yale Admissions Committee has completed its evaluation of this year’s candidates, and I regret to inform you that —
“Cole, I’m so sorry.”
He was looking at the ground, scuffing his toe on the pastel rug beneath our feet. But then he tore the letter decisively in half, and tossed it back onto the desk. “It’s nothing. I don’t care.”
“But Cole, if you want to talk about it —”
“No.” He crossed to the bed, throwing himself down on his stomach, and I sat down carefully beside him, leaning back against the headboard. He made an impatient sound, then rolled onto his back so I could see his face. “Look, I got into the University of Connecticut, which was my safety school, okay? So it’s fine. Yale would have been like boarding school all over again, rich assholes wanting me to suck their dicks without even having the courtesy to jack me off afterwards. I’ll go to school with normal people, and I’ll convince my parents to buy me a car as a graduation gift, and I’ll drive down to see you every weekend. And we’ll talk all the time during the week and everything will be fine.”
