SAWYER #4
A worried look bunched on his face instead of disappearing. “But I…I thought it was gonna happen.”
“Not with him,” I said, nearly growling, then took a breath to sort my thoughts. “I couldn’t let you do it. I’m sorry.” I stepped back. “It’s not my call and I was rash, but I just couldn’t sit there and watch you make that mistake.”
“What mistake?” he asked, curious more than confused, now. He wasn’t angry with me. Not exactly.
“That fuckboy,” I said and the edged feeling I had been holding so tightly leaped and showed itself fully. Jealousy. It fanned the embers in me into a roaring fire. “He was gonna take advantage of you, I could feel it. I know those guys. I know how they think.”
“I’m not stupid, you know,” he said flatly.
That stopped the words that had welled in my mouth.
“I know what he wants,” Noah said. “And I told you what I wanted.”
“I know, I know,” I blurted, frown contorting the upper half of my face. “But there’s so many other guys, less sleazy ones, who deserve you more. You don’t have to just pick up the first one who’s willing.”
He was surprised now, his eyes widening and mouth opening. “Did you just call me a slut?”
“What? No. Hell no. I said there were better guys for you out there,” I insisted. Like me, I nearly shouted, then knew instantly how wrong that idea was. I was no different than any other fuckboy around. In fact, knowing this probably made me worse.
“Where?” He demanded. There was a trace of accusation in his voice now. “If you failed to notice, nobody’s ever interested in me.”
“Bullshit,” I spat. I didn’t know why he was fighting me. I was only watching his back. “Plenty of guys are interested, you just don’t see it because you’re so certain that they wouldn’t want you. Or you don’t want them. Whatever the case, you’ve got better options than that hookup artist.”
Noah pouted at me and I realized I’d totally wrecked his night out. “Don’t you realize that I’m a socially awkward nerd who can’t even talk to attractive guys?”
“Wrong. You talk to this attractive guy all the time,” I said, pointing at myself, then cursing myself for choosing that path.
“That’s…different. You’re not...I mean…” He huffed. “You’re hot, but you don’t look at me like that.”
“Like what?” I asked.
“Like you’re interested. And that’s fine.
I’m used to guys seeing me as their younger brother all the time and never as someone they would sleep with.
But you wouldn’t know what that’s like. Everyone wants to get a piece of you.
” He said all of this like it was my fault people wanted to have sex with me.
But there was one thing he was totally wrong about. “I’m plenty interested, Noah. Don’t think that I’m not. Fuck. You’re smart and beautiful. What else could you want?”
He gaped, but I didn’t let him speak even if he meant to.
“But I’m also trying to be your friend and do the right thing. Unlike Bluto over there.” As the words spilled from my mouth, I replayed them and realized just how much I’d said aloud.
Noah stared at me like I was an apparition. He blinked, his green eyes glimmering under the street lamp. His chest rose and fell steadily. I hadn’t realized how close we were standing to one another until he inhaled through his nose and nearly touched me with his chest. “You like me?”
“I…it’s…” I pursed my lips. Fuck!
“Or you’re just saying it to make me feel better,” he concluded with his eyes narrowing.
“That’s not at all what I’m doing. I like you. Okay? I like you a lot, but I’m also a player just like that guy was and that’s not who you deserve.” Darkness creeped into my voice as I said these things.
It felt like I’d eaten a rock. My stomach was heavy and my limbs were just kind of hanging from my torso, useless. My cock was stirring, for sure, and it only added to my annoyance. Of all the parts of my body, my cock had the worst timing.
Somehow, the thing that I considered a noble sacrifice of my own desires for the sake of a better outcome for him, annoyed Noah the most. His frown exploded on his face. “Can you stop doing that?”
“What? What am I doing?” I demanded, a tremor of hopelessness touched my voice.
“Treating me like a child,” he said. “Can’t I make a single mistake in my life? Does every first choice I make have to be the right one?”
I wasn’t sure who he was speaking to. I hadn’t realized I had been pushing him into doing anything like that. All I knew was that I couldn’t watch him leave the bar with that creep.
“What I would really like, for once in my life, is to decide for myself what’s right for me. Just once, I’d like to make a mistake.” He said those things softly and I didn’t know what to say to that.
I looked at him. He looked at me. And time ground to a halt.
The glimmer of the overhead street lamp reflected from those mossy eyes and the redness in his cheeks was only worse with the cool, late February air.
He gazed at me expectantly and I realized that all of me was tense.
Every muscle in my face, my limbs, and my torso was taut.
And, as I relaxed, I found myself nodding.
“You should do that,” I said softly. It was as good as promising to break his heart for the sake of gaining experience, but I did like this messy-haired, stammering, brilliant guy.
I liked him way more than I dared to admit to him or myself. And I definitely liked him more than some beefy brawler with no finesse ever could.
Noah swallowed, a tremor of fear crossing his face, and I realized just how nervous he was.
He was barely holding it together against fear.
And though mere inches separated our bodies, it felt like jumping from one galaxy to the next.
It wasn’t only about learning it. The true leap was in understanding that I needed to help him if either one of us was going to feel good.
And when that piece of the puzzle fell into place in my mind, I pulled my lower lip under my teeth and perked my ears. “Can I kiss you?”
“Fuck yes. Please.” He closed his eyes as he answered me. His chin moved a little up and I leaned in, catching the sweet and citrusy scent of the American pale ale I’d ordered for him. The briefest pause in which my lips hovered over his felt like the longest, most excruciating wait of my life.
Every terrible outcome that had been so clear to me moments ago slipped away from my grasp.
An instant later, the chills of the February night were chased away by the searing heat of Noah’s lips on mine.
He was like the core of the Sun. His lips parted a little, as if by instinct, just as mine pressed against them.
The sweetness of beer and victory mixed on my lips as I kissed him, my hands touching the sides of his torso, just above his hips.
He kissed me back, if a little too eagerly, and our teeth touched for the briefest of moments.
But I tilted my head and took control over it, kissing him deeply and savoring the little moan that escaped from his mouth into mine.
The corners of my lips stretched as I kissed him more, every little bit of me glimmering and vibrating, just like those electromagnetic forces he’d tried explaining to me.
And just like they held atoms together, I held him.
My unbreakable hold on him and his clutching of my jacket stranded us in each other’s arms. We kissed softly, softer than I’d ever known to kiss, until the tip of his tongue ventured out in search of something more.
I was all too glad to provide it. My lips parted further and I pushed my tongue just far enough to meet his.
And when they touched, the sparks burst to life.
It was like all the suppressed lust I had tried shielding Noah from was unleashing.
I found myself grappling against my own impulses.
I wanted him. I wanted all of him all of the time and just to myself.
My tongue explored his mouth as he moaned over it and clutched my jacket harder. He wasn’t letting me pull back even if such an outrageous thought crossed my mind.
I swirled us around, never letting my lips leave his, and pinned him against the intricately designed scrollwork of the iron post of the street lamp. He gasped, but resumed kissing me back with all the generous eagerness of someone who’d been dreaming of this for way too long.
It nagged me, somewhere deep in the back of my mind, that I was stealing his firsts, but I was so far gone in the passion of this moment that I couldn’t pull myself back.
It just so happened that the virgin had more self-control than the player. He pulled his lower lip between his teeth and let out a small sound from his throat. “We should get warm.”
And though I knew what the invitation was, even the idea of sitting in his room and listening to some new version of punk was too sweet to resist.