Chapter Twenty-Seven
I could understand why he wasn’t staying over, but that didn’t mean I liked it. I was also pretty sure, from Flynn’s smirk, that he’d seen my mood and was taking a sick sort of pride in being the cause of it.
“You’re pouting.”
I crossed my arms, resisting the urge to turn away. “I’m not.”
“Oh, my mistake, then.” From his tone, my protest had failed to convince him.
He stepped in closer, his chest only a few inches from mine. It was cold out, on the porch, but suddenly I couldn’t even feel it.
“Try not to jerk yourself silly, missing me,” he teased, softly.
“I already got off, remember,” I pointed out. “I can’t speak for you, but I’m gonna sleep like a baby.”
“Asshole,” he accused me, laughing.
“What happened to exercising self-control through sexual restraint?”
It was a good glare, in that it left me with no doubts whatsoever that Flynn was considering the merits of throttling me.
“Do you think your parents are watching?”
I resisted the instinctive urge to glance around. “I suspect they’re studiously avoiding paying us any attention at all, right now.”
“Oh,” Flynn murmured, “that’s good.”
The kiss was gentle, almost tentative at first. As though he wasn’t sure - for all we’d said, and done; for all the flirting and the teasing - that I’d accept it.
Worried I might jerk back, wide-eyed and furious at his presumption.
Or that, perhaps, it would be a kiss that led to a goodbye, like that time on the street that seemed so very long ago.
I didn’t pull away, though. Relished the liberty to snake my arms around his chest and close that lingering distance.
Dimly aware of the pressure of his body against mine, my brain caught up in the softness of his lips and then - as Flynn tilted his head further, and those lips parted - the growing hunger I felt, and knew he did too.
We made out on the step, like teenagers. Until, reluctant and breathless, I broke the kiss.
“Your parents could catch us, you realize?”
Flynn licked his lips. Maybe it was the dim light from the bulb in its cobwebbed glass shade above us, making his pupils so vast, but I wanted to think his need for me at least contributed.
“I guess that would be one way to tell them about me.”
I winced. “Yeah. Though maybe not the most ideal one.”
He sighed. “Is there ‘ideal’ in this situation, or is there just ‘pick your moment, and hope for the best’?”
Glancing across, at the darkened windows next door, I tried to imagine facing down Flynn’s mom and dad with the knowledge that I was dating their son. How it would feel, keeping that a secret, versus the ways they might look at me if they knew the truth.
“You don’t have to tell them now,” I reminded him. Not quite sure if I was trying to protect his peace, or my own.
“I know.” He gave me a tight smile. “I’m just telling myself that, if the opportunity comes up and seems right, I’ll go for it. And if not... well, it’ll be some other time.”
“Maybe we had enough parental stress for one trip,” I suggested, pulling him in for a hug. Quietly enjoying the way he tucked his chin in, against my neck. It was an intimacy so different from sex, and I hadn’t even realized that I was missing out on it.
“Your friends know, right?”
I nodded. “And, well...”
“You told them about me.” It was a statement, not a question, but you couldn’t help but read an edge of accusation in there, too.
“By mistake. And only the very vaguest details.” It was a cop-out, and I knew it. “I’m sorry, it wasn’t fair of me.”
He squeezed me tighter. “Back home - as in, city-home, not this home - it’s not a secret. It’s just part of who I am. I guess because it’s easier to tell people when you don’t have this vast sense of history hanging over you.”
That was about as close to forgiveness as I was going to get, I decided, without outright asking for it.
“They were surprised,” I said, “but more about my reaction to finding out, really.”
Flynn chuckled, then pulled back from me. His arms on my biceps. “At how you’d realized you couldn’t resist my animal charms?”
I stuck my tongue out. “Something like that. You didn’t generally come up in conversation much, but when you did, I wasn’t exactly your biggest fan.”
“Ah,” Flynn pointed out, “but that’s because you were hearing about my mother’s son, who is astonishingly different to me.”
“Yeah, maybe.” I grinned. “Anyway, they were unexpectedly excited about us reconnecting.”
His leering glance was more than suggestive. “Just how much ‘reconnecting’ detail did you go into?”
I tapped him on the forehead with my finger. “Behave, pervert. Not that sort of detail.”
“Good. We’ve not tried all the permutations yet, so I’d hate for them to get a partial report of my talents.”
Laughing, I shrugged his hands off my arms. “You’re impossible. Go home, talented pervert, before your mom comes looking for you. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Still smirking, he took a step back. Hands thrust into his pockets. “Promise?”
I waved him away. “Promise. Now get lost.”
Another step back. “And you don’t regret today? Or... well, what you decided?”
I blinked at him, not having expected this final punctuation to the evening. “About dating you, or moving in with you, or what?”
“All of it.” Flynn smiled, but his eyes were intent on me.
“The only thing I’m filled with right now is casserole. Certainly not regrets.”
He nodded, still watching.
“What about you,” I added, “having second-thoughts?”
A head-shake. “Not at all.”
The knot of tension, the one I hadn’t even realized was tightening, suddenly unfurled.
“Tomorrow, then,” I suggested.
Flynn winked. “Maybe we can fill you up with something else.”
Laughing, I waved him down the steps. “Go to bed, asshole. Before you really ruin the moment.”