I couldn’t even manage to keep my distance the next day, though I could see that was what he’d expected. Wanted. I used Rue’s pancakes as an excuse to talk to him. To see if he was okay.
I’m not willing to say what that means yet. I’m not sure I know.
Coward.
People only want him in secret. Isn’t that what he said? Am I any better? If I’m worrying now—not just about reporters bothering Rue before we’re ready, but of them finding out about Joey before I know what we are—maybe I’m as bad as everyone else.
Maybe I’m worse.
I grabbed him that night with no warning and took without asking out of what felt like jealousy. But God, that kiss. It hasn’t left my head for a minute. The way he rubbed himself against me. The sounds he made when I pinned him to the wall. He liked what I was doing to him.
He begged me to fuck him.
And in that moment, I imagined turning him and pressing his face into the brick, ramming my dick home without foreplay or consideration. It was that lack of control that snapped me out of my haze and sent me running.
I hurt his feelings, but I shocked myself even more. I spent the night trying to come to terms with wanting him, and the unfamiliar possessiveness that came with the desire.
I didn’t lie when I told him sex didn’t seem worth the trouble it caused. I like sex. Love the sweat and heat and human contact. Just not enough to lose my head about it. I didn’t have any passionate affairs or painful breakups in my past. I didn’t hang around long enough to feel jealousy.
Until Joey. The idea of him dating anyone else had something clawing at my chest from the inside, trying to get out. I didn’t like it. The admission that he was gay was secondary, but I must have heard it, since I used it as an excuse to kiss him the way I’d been wanting to. What I did next, how I acted afterward, earned me the evening I spent torturing myself about his date, wondering what they were doing together.
I’ve never sought out this kind of connection with anyone, man or woman. I didn’t have time for it, I never expected it, and yes, it’s confusing as fuck, especially now.
He has a tender heart.
I can feel it beating against my ribs, and the last thing I want to do is hurt it, or him, in any way. That should be the period at the end of the sentence. But it isn’t.
We really need to finish that talk. “You still awake? Joey?”
He snuggles into my side and shushes me. “I’m dreaming. Don’t spoil it.”
My lips twitch, despite my mood. “Are you really this tired? Because…because I’ve been thinking about dragons since you mentioned that game.”
He lifts his head and blinks up at me owlishly. Damn, his eyes are beautiful. “You want to play a game. Tonight?”
If it stops us from saying goodnight at the door? I’m willing to give it a shot. It can’t be that hard. “Absolutely. I have no idea what I’m doing. But you can teach me.”
I see his gaze dropping to my mouth before he licks his lips. That came out wrong, didn’t it?
You can teach me.
Maybe it came out right after all.
“Su-sure. We can play.”
He’s been drinking. We both have. But my sister is watching Rue, everyone’s asleep and this might be the only time we have to work this thing out.
You want to kiss him again.
We say goodnight to Derek and I follow the slightly more alert Joey into our building. A young woman with a cute pixie cut barely looks up from her laptop, pushing her lime green frames up her nose before waggling her fingers. “Hey there, Handsome Ransom. Yo, new guy.”
“I haven’t met her. Have I met her?” Joey thinks he’s whispering. It’s kind of cute.
“She’s Mr. G’s niece. Can’t you see the resemblance? And I hear she has a black belt,” I fake-whisper back. “In case you come in with another date who gets too handsy.”
“How is it that you know everyone? And who says handsy? If you didn’t have so many nicknames, Handsome, I’d start calling you Gramps.”
“Think that through. Imagine telling someone you think Gramps is hot and has a nice ass,” I joke as the lift doors close. “And I know her because the first few weeks we were here I couldn’t sleep. New-dad thing, I guess.”
We both stumble when the elevator starts to rise and smile at each other, remembering that we’re still not entirely sober.
The second, unexpected lurch of the elevator has Joey moving closer to me. “Did you feel that?”
I snag a handful of his shirt in my fist so he doesn’t fall. “It’s probably Fourth working on her wormhole again.”