“Not all that different.” I kick my shoes off, leaving them by the couch and turn to face him, tucking one foot under me. “Both eighteen, right?”
“Yeah.” His voice does this gravelly, low thing, making it hard for me to focus, but I need to get past this hurdle.
“Okay. See? Common ground.”
He points at me. “Plays every single sport known to man.” He points to his own chest. “Never played a sport in my life and don’t even like to watch them.”
I chew on my bottom lip as I think that over, but it’s not missed by me that his eyes carefully track the movement. Our eyes meet as I clear my throat and again try to focus. “I don’t play every single sport. I fucking hate golf.”
He snorts, shaking his head. “Not a sport.”
“It’s a sport, but it’s stupid.”
He leans back against the couch, his body seeming to relax a little and then points at me again. “Born to the parents you currently live with.”
“Not all it’s cracked up to be,” I volley back because I may not be adopted, but I’m pretty sure I’m not here for the right reasons. It’s more out of obligation and tradition.
He seems to process that and then shrugs. I’m calling that a point for me.
“We both like to draw,” I say with a half-grin as he meets my eyes in annoyance.
“But you dropped it. Why?”
Okay, we’re talking. Having an actual conversation. I can’t chicken out and stop talking now. “My dad.” I catch the sympathy in his eyes and quickly add, “He didn’t think it was a good enough elective, so I gave it up. But it was my choice.”
“Sure it was.” His full lips quirk.
“It was. It’s not like I was going to pursue a career in art.”
“And that’s so bad?” He straightens and turns to face me now. There’s the hostility in his eyes I’ve grown used to.
“No. It’s just not the plan.”
“Whose plan?”
I’m suddenly uncomfortable and kicking myself for opening up this discussion. This is not what I want to talk about right now. I know my future is already planned. For now, I just want to see what this insane attraction is to Rhett. I want to do something totally on my own while I can.
“Are you dating Bree?” I blurt out, and his eyes widen.
“What?”
I stand my ground because it’s already out there, might as well follow through. “Bree. I saw her leaving, and I know you guys are close. I’m just wondering how close, that’s all.”
“There’s nothing going on with Bree. Stay away from her.” The sudden change in his demeanor is comical because it’s clear he thinks I have an interest in Bree. Not gonna happen.
I hold up my hands in front of me in surrender. “I’m not going near her. I was just curious.”
“Nothing is going on between us. She’s like my sister. But I will fuck up you or anyone who hurts her. Got it?”
Poor Josh.
“I do. I’m not interested in your sister.” I move closer to him, my heart thundering in my chest because I’m not interested in her or any woman, and I need to tell him. I need to tell someone. I need . . .
I lean in closer to him, my eyes on his lips, wanting so many things at once. Just as I’m about to reach my desired destination, his hand on my chest pushes me back and stops me from claiming his lips for my own.
“What are you doing?”
Fuck. I’m living every nightmare I’ve had for years. That’s what I’m doing.
“I . . .”
He shakes his head and looks horrified, so I sit back a little, trying to calm my racing heart. “You what?”
“What do you think I’m doing?” That’s great, Grayson. Fight questions with questions. Brilliant.
“I think you were about to kiss me.”
I turn slowly, facing away from him and leaning back against the couch. “Oh.”
He doesn’t move. “Were you?”
I nod my head slowly, unable to look at him. Why did I do that? That was stupid. He’s straight. And I’m an idiot.
“Can we just forget about this?”
He turns his body to also look straight ahead, leaning back against the couch and our shoulders brush. “Are you . . . ?”
I close my eyes briefly, knowing what he’s asking. What I’ve asked myself for so long and know the answer to. But I haven’t told anyone. Haven’t wanted to rock the boat and blow up my entire life for nothing.
Because what’s the point right now? It’s not like I have anyone to do that for. Only me. And it’s been proven, time and time again, what I want doesn’t seem to be a priority.
“Yes,” I answer quietly.
“You’re gay,” Rhett says for me, and I nod again.
“Yes.”
I should tell him not to out me. To not tell everyone at school tomorrow I tried to kiss him. But I can’t bring myself to do it. It’s not like I’m actively trying to hide it. It just hasn’t come up.
Okay—when Crystal was on my lap, grinding on me and begging me to fuck her—maybe it could have. Or when Josh has pestered me about girls or about Bree today—it could have come up.
Shit.
I drag my hand over my face and groan. I have been hiding it.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
“Hey.” I jump slightly when I feel Rhett’s hand brush against my arm. “It’s okay. I won’t tell anyone, Grayson. I wouldn’t do that.”
I laugh, but it sounds slightly psychotic as I shake my head. “I’m not worried about it. I mean, I should be.” I stand up, too much energy buzzing inside my body. “My whole life would implode. I’m pretty sure my father wasn’t counting on his son being gay.”
“Not a choice he or you can make,” he growls, and my eyes settle back on him as he sits tensely on the couch.
“No, it’s not, but it doesn’t mean he’d be accepting of it. He’d probably disown me.”
“Then he doesn’t deserve you in the first place.” He says this with conviction, and although in the back of my mind, I know he’s right, I can’t quite get there.
“I don’t really want to talk about it.” I sit down on the other side of the couch again but turn slowly to Rhett. “I won’t try to kiss you again, okay? Can we just drop this?”
Okay, yeah. I’m panicking now.
“Hey,” Rhett moves closer to me now. “I’m not upset about you almost kissing me, or whatever.”
I study him cautiously. “You aren’t?”
He shakes his head slowly, his eyes focused on my lips. I swear my heart might burst out of my chest. “No.”
“Rhett . . .” Before I can say anything else, his lips slowly press against mine, almost in a revenant way, exploring with extreme caution. I stay still, but my lips part as his move against mine, and I feel it everywhere.
The kiss deepens, and his hand finds its way to my hair, gripping tight and pulling me into him, my moan seeping into the kiss because nothing has ever felt this good. His hard chest presses against mine as his tongue sweeps inside my mouth, sampling me and then becoming demanding, seeking access I grant easily.
I feel like my lungs might explode, but I don’t want to pull away. I don’t want this to ever end. I feel his hand loosen its grip in my hair, though, and suddenly, his lips rip away from mine as he stares into my eyes. “Holy fuck.”
I stare at him, my lips still parted and feeling swollen from his abusive, addictive kiss. “Yeah,” I pant, wanting more but unsure what any of this means.
“You should go.”
“What?” I stare at him in shocked horror. That’s not at all what I expected.
He stands up abruptly. My eyes immediately dart to the obvious bulge in his sweats he doesn’t try to hide but is clearly freaked-out by. I’m in a similar situation, but my tight jeans are uncomfortable and unforgiving as fuck as I stand up and face him. “You don’t have to push me away.”
“I’m not.” His tone is dripping with anger and confusion.
“You are.”
“Get. Out. I mean it, Grayson. Go.” He looks at me with authority, but there’s also pleading there.
I don’t fight him. Instead, I slink out of his apartment like a coward and out to my car.
One simple kiss.
And it’s turned my life upside down. I should try to forget it. Just play along with his denial or whatever he wants to do here, but I can’t.
Because that one simple kiss was everything.
FOURTEEN
I can’t stop thinking about that kiss.
I mean really cannot stop thinking about it. After I was a total douchebag and kicked him out of my apartment, I lay on my bed and replayed that kiss over and over and over again. Then, when I couldn’t stop thinking about it, I took a long shower, trying to get my dick and my mind to calm down.
It didn’t work. Not even after jerking off because all I could think about was Grayson. Those full lips attacking mine. His hard body pressed against mine. I can’t fucking breathe.
I can’t concentrate.
“Wow. I’m flattered.”
My entire body jolts at the sound of a deep voice behind me. “Why?”
He moves to my side. I can’t help breathing in his intoxicating scent. Clean and crisp—probably expensive. “Those are my lips you’re sketching.”
He nods to the paper in front of me. Just lips. That’s all I can seem to work on this morning. I hate that he’s right. They’re his.