Hard to Pretend (Hard to Love #2)

19. Seb

19

T he call came two days after movie night with Chris and his friends.

Enterprise Marketing’s human resources representative performed a quick phone interview, never once asking about my relationship with Jasper. Which was probably a good thing, because I didn’t have a relationship with him. It also soothed my worries. I hadn’t only gotten the call because someone in their company had vouched for me. I’d gotten it off the strength of my resume. I got the in-person interview off the strength of my phone interview and the small portfolio I’d sent over, examples for fictional companies that I’d built both during and after college.

I’d been worried that the lack of any real life examples would work against me, that they’d insist that I start at the bottom of the ladder and I’d spend another few years in data entry hell .

Those worries were further soothed when I interviewed at Enterprise Friday morning. I’d restrained myself during our usual Thursday night get together. I’d only had two drinks, and I’d left The Rusty Nail earlier than I usually did. My friends each wished me luck as I left. Before I went into the building, I heard my phone chime with text message notifications. The group chat flooded with messages, all of my friends sending me a last surge of well wishes. Chris sent me a picture with a kiss and a message telling me that he’d wish me luck, but he knew that I didn’t need it.

I felt strong and confident when I walked into the building.

The confidence carried me through the interview. I felt amazing about everything. I’d answered their questions well, but more importantly, the answers they gave me about their company fit what I was looking for. They had a schedule laid out on what to expect for my first six months in the company. I’d be paired off with an experienced account manager for the first ninety days. During that time, they’d train me and by the end of that first ninety days, I would already have the experience working under them and handling my first account. After that, they’d take on a mentor role, checking over the work that I was doing without stepping in unless I was going in entirely the wrong direction .

By the time the six months ended, I’d have multiple clients of my own.

They went over the compensation schedule, and the pay was considerably more than I was making at Magnolia. They went over potential growth opportunities and how I could grow within the company, how I could climb their corporate ladder. They listed out realistic time frames for promotions and raises. I appreciated their transparency and all but jumped at the opportunity to schedule my second interview.

There was a skip to my step as I went back to my car. My fingers were tapping happy rhythms against the steering wheel as I left the parking lot. I didn’t stop to think as I drove away from the building. I had intended to go home, but somehow, the road led me to the only place I wanted to go: Chris’s apartment.

When I pulled into the parking lot, I sent a text message to him, letting him know that I would be there when he got off work. I got a response back less than a minute later. He was on the way. My eyes drifted toward the time on my dashboard clock. It was an hour earlier than he usually got off work. Was he leaving early to be with me or had he scheduled the time off in advance? Or maybe I was reading something into it that wasn’t there, and it was entirely unrelated to me.

That was always a possibility .

I got out of my car and locked it. I didn’t want to sit and wait. I was bursting with energy—nervous and excited—from the interview and sitting still felt like being imprisoned. I paced the sidewalk in front of his building, texting the group chat with updates from the interview. My friends had a lot of questions, and I was happy to answer all of them. At least until Chris got there, because that was who I wanted to see more than anything, who I wanted to celebrate this little victory with.

He pulled up fifteen minutes later. I watched, smiling so hard that my cheeks hurt, as he climbed out of his car. He greeted me with a hug and a deep kiss, and my heart raced in my chest. Realization struck me like lightning. My entire life, I only ever wanted to celebrate with my best friends. It meant something that now, my first thought had been to celebrate this milestone with someone else. It had been the man I’d met at a club almost a year ago and lost track of. It had been with the guy from the coffee shop who proposed an idiotic plan, but who I’d gotten to know and respect and care for.

Someone that I was falling deeper for by the minute.

That was the realization.

I was falling for him. I was getting exactly what I wanted. I’d wanted to find someone that felt like my person, and I had. It hadn’t been the way that I’d expected. I’d thought it would be through something intentional. Maybe I’d meet him on that dating app Silas and Jonas had helped develop when they met, or maybe I’d be one of the few people who found something real on Swyper. I thought it would require searching, but instead, it had found me.

He had found me.

When I kissed him back, the second realization hit me.

I wanted to be with him in times of happiness. I wanted to support him in times of misery. He was the person I wanted to fall asleep with, and he was the person I wanted to wake up with. I wanted to share nights and mornings, breakfasts and dinners, good times and bad with him. I wasn’t just falling for Christopher Singh.

I was in love with him.

He pulled away from the kiss with an expression almost like the one I’d seen on his face when we went out and he had one too many beers. It was the same expression he’d gotten a few times when he looked over at me late at night, after we hooked up and we were basking in the afterglow.

It was a half-drunk, full-blissed look, and it only furthered my knowledge that I was in love with him.

He slipped his hand into mine and led me upstairs, asking me questions about the interview. I told him everything, gushing over my hopes for the job. My mind was half on the interview, and half on the realization I’d had outside. The words were on the tip of my tongue, threatening to escape with every sentence. I wanted it to be intentional, not words that simply fell out of my mouth without thought, but looking at him? Damn, it was hard not to just blurt it out in the middle of telling him about the career development plan they put all new employees on.

I managed to hold it together as we shifted from the interview to the reason he was home early. “You were waiting for me,” he said simply when I asked.

Yeah, that wasn’t helping me hold in the truth of my feelings for him.

I kissed him, and when I pulled away, the words tumbled from my kiss swollen lips. “I love you.”

Three simple words, but they were terrifying. The moment they were out, they hung in the air. I couldn’t take them back, but I had no way of knowing if he would accept them. I had no way of knowing if the feelings were reciprocated. I didn’t think I’d ever been more terrified than I was in that moment.

“I love you too.”

His words were simple, and I couldn’t hear any of the fear I’d felt when he said them either. He said them so easily, easier than I’d ever heard anyone say anything in my life.

“You do?”

“Figured it out when my friends were pissed at me,” he told me softly. His hand reached down to cover my own, his fingers lacing together with mine. “I couldn’t tell them I regretted lying, because I didn’t. I would do it over and over again if it ended with us here. I couldn’t regret anything that led me to you.”

I felt like my heart was going to explode. It was the best thing I’d ever heard in my life.

When we kissed this time, there was a peace and a calm behind it that I’d never felt before, a sweetness I’d never tasted. Then the kiss began to heat up. Fire coursed through my veins and electricity crackled against my skin everywhere he touched.

I wanted more of his touch, more of his kisses. I wanted every part of him. I needed to show him how much I loved him.

I leaned back, and he came back with me. Our bodies slotted together, and the kiss heated up. Every second we touched, the heat grew hotter. Before long, we were panting and moaning. We moved our bodies against each other, seeking out friction. I didn’t give a damn about the feel of fabric on my hard cock. I only cared about touching him, about the way he made me feel and the way I was making him feel.

We began to peel clothing off of one another. Every moment we weren’t kissing, weren’t touching, felt like a moment wasted. Even if the moment was being wasted by stripping each other bare so we could enjoy one another’s bodies.

I loved him.

I wanted him.

I wanted him more as his hand wrapped around our cocks and began to stroke them. The feeling of his tight fist and his cock against mine was intoxicating. I thrust up into the tunnel he created and listened as the feeling pulled a moan from his lips. I felt it vibrate against my mouth and swallowed it down. I felt the sticky wetness of his precum on my shaft, and I wanted more. I needed more.

I wrapped my hand around his, and we worked together, bringing ourselves to the edge.

I could have gotten off like that, but Chris pulled our hands away. I thrust up against him, trying to chase after a feeling that was drifting further and further away from me. “Not yet,” he purred, his lips brushing against mine. I whined, but Chris didn’t give in.

Instead he pulled his lips away from me, grinning as I tried to chase after them. He was being mean, taunting and teasing me when all I wanted was the feeling of his body. I wanted to feel good in the way that only he could make me feel, and I wanted to feel how the simple act of being in love with someone amplified that feeling. The way he was making me feel with just kisses and his hand… It was already making it that much better.

“Don’t worry,” he whispered as he kissed down my body, his hot breath warming the skin of his stomach. “I’m going to make you feel as good as you make me feel, Seb.”

Goosebumps rose on my flesh, and he kissed over them. My heart raced as he got closer and closer to my cock, anticipation rising and then falling as only his hot breath caressed my throbbing dick. “Please.”

My pleading fell on deaf ears, and he began to kiss my inner thighs, nipping and licking and teasing. He was killing me, but it was the sweetest death I could imagine. His fingers traced down my torso and ghosted over my balls, pulling a keening sound from my lips. My back arched, trying so hard to make any contact and get any friction, any relief. He grinned up at me. Our eyes met, and that heat in my gut grew twenty times hotter.

He sucked one of my balls into his mouth and my back arched. He began to suckle on my balls, and his hand wrapped around my shaft. He began working me over. I began begging and pleading with him for more. He didn’t give it to me right away. He just kept teasing.

Instead of giving in, he rose up and pulled me from the couch. I moved like a zombie away from the couch, to his bedroom, and settled on his bed.

“I really need to start keeping supplies in other parts of the house,” he muttered.

I watched with hungry eyes as he pulled out the bottle of lube and the condom. My eyes landed on the foil packet of the condom, and I shook my head. “I haven’t been with anyone else since my last test,” I told him.

I wanted to feel him bare inside of me. I’d laid myself bare in front of him, told him my feelings, and now I wanted that same rawness in everything between us. I was a little disappointed when he shook his head at me. “That’s something to discuss later. When we’re not…” He motioned at our bare bodies and swollen cocks. “When our heads are clear.”

That made sense. As long as I had him, I supposed that I could handle a condom.

Not that I was able to think about it once I heard the snick of him opening the bottle of lube and the gentle pressure of his finger at my entrance. I couldn’t think of anything as he brought his mouth down and finally gave me what I wanted. He sucked me in deep as he opened me up. I was overwhelmed by the sensation of his mouth around me, his fingers in me, and his other hand pinching and playing with my nipples.

I was nothing more than the sensations he was giving me and the desperation for more. I was a moaning and whining mess by the time he slid the condom onto his shaft and pressed inside of me. I was so well prepped that my body barely offered any resistance against him. He moved in me, whispering how much he loved me as he thrust, and I returned the sentiment as my nails dug into the flesh of his back.

We came together, our names mingling in the air between us. We stayed connected as our pulses slowed and our breathing returned to normal, and in that moment, I knew.

He was the person for me .

I had never loved anyone the way that I loved him, and I didn’t think I ever would. Maybe it was too soon to feel like that, but I did.

I couldn’t imagine the love I had for him ever fading away.