Chapter 8
EIGHT
COLTON
He was right. I might need counseling, especially if I kept losing control around him. I snuck a glance at him, his blond hair on the messy side, his cheeks still flushed from our encounter.
“You gave me one hell of an orgasm too.” With a soft grin, he brushed his knuckles down my cheek. “I can’t believe you came twice.”
“Me neither.” I choked out a chuckle. I should just own my lust for him. Or was there more to it? “You said you’d be okay taking things slow. I…” Shit, was I really doing this? My pulse sped up, rushing into my temples. “I’d like to, to take things slow.”
“Are you serious?” His grin widened into a full-on smile that met his eyes, and he angled toward me. “So, friends with benefits or would you consider us dating?” He scraped his teeth across his lower lip.
“We can’t date, Travis. Not yet. I can’t tutor you and date.” Though what was the difference? I supposed being together in public like a couple would be it. Grabbing his hand, I said, “We can’t let anyone know about us outside of this apartment. Do you understand?”
With a shrug, he said, “Yeah, I get it. Set aside some extra time for a hookup when I come over for tutoring, and then when we hang out in public, we’re strictly friends.” He rubbed his thumb across the top of my hand. “I might find another tutor.” He arched a brow.
My chest clenched. I didn’t want him to get help from someone else. “You’d need to start all over with someone new. Do you think you have time with your football schedule and the midterm coming up for this class?”
He huffed a sigh and dipped his head. “No, I don’t. You get me. You know exactly how to explain this shit to me, so I understand it.”
“It’s almost November…” Shit, Halloween was tomorrow.
I’d barely thought about it since Sara had mentioned it.
“You only have maybe six weeks before the final.” I glanced at our still entwined hands.
I might have considered donning a costume and going out with him if it were possible. He made me consider crazy things.
“Yeah, when I get back from this game, I’ll hit the books.” He sighed and squeezed my hand. “If you…if you go to the Varsity Tavern with Evan on Saturday night, don’t let anyone hit on you. Okay?” His gaze crawled to mine.
Scoffing a laugh, I said, “You don’t have to worry about that. People don’t hit on me.” Did he want to be exclusive? But it was too soon. We were only hooking up right now.
“But I did.” The edge of his lips twitched. “And you’ll be with a pro hockey player.”
“Don’t worry about that.” I kissed his cheek when his brows furrowed. “Really, don’t.” I doubt I’d find anyone I was interested in anyway. He’d filled that void for me and then some.
“Okay.” He took a deep breath and glanced around the room. “Well, I guess I should leave. You must have your own studying to do.”
I slipped my hand from his and stood. “I do.” It would be too easy to ask him to stay, but I shouldn’t.
As he tucked his laptop into his backpack, he said, “Guess I’ll see you on Tuesday?” He zipped his bag and rose, hefting the bag onto his shoulder.
“Yeah.” It seemed so far away, but it would allow me time to contemplate things. “You’re traveling home on Sunday, I take it?” The game was in Iowa, so it was doubtful they’d return on Saturday night.
“Yep.” He ambled toward the door and stopped with his hand on the knob. “Kiss me goodbye?” A smirk floated across his mouth.
“Sure.” I stepped to him and pressed my mouth against his.
As his arm wrapped around my waist, he pulled me in and slanted his lips across mine, gliding his tongue inside and deepening the kiss. A soft moan escaped him.
Heat ignited my gut, and my dick tingled. Damn it, he’d leave me with a boner.
Breaking the kiss, he said, “I’ll miss you.” He rubbed the tip of his nose against mine. “But I’ll see you Tuesday. Schedule some extra time for me, okay?” After freeing me, he left with a quick wave behind him.
I watched him go, my cock on full alert and an ache ghosting across my heart. God damn it, what had he done to me?
On Friday, I’d gone to my classes, spent time with my new students, and when I had a spare moment, I’d pulled up the webpage for the LGBTQ help center, the phone number staring me in the face.
As I sat on my couch with my laptop open in my lap, I plucked my phone from the coffee table.
I should call. Judging by the time I’d spent thinking about Travis today and fending off the intense fear that followed, I had to come to terms with my control issues.
The problem wasn’t going away, and I owed him this.
Or I’d have to end things with him. An ache burst through my chest. No, I couldn’t end things.
I was already too invested. He made me feel safe, desired, attractive…
all the emotions I hadn’t felt in so long.
Pursing my lips, I tapped the number into my phone.
What would I say when they answered the call?
Hey, I’m hooking up with a hot football player who’s incredibly sweet and caring, but I’m freaking out for no reason.
With nausea balling in my gut, I scoffed.
Who was I fooling? I couldn’t do this. Not yet.
They’d think I was nuts. They’d probably tell me to get over myself and quit being ashamed of my sexuality.
I wasn’t, though. That wasn’t my problem.
It was the fear that one slip might lead to another. The fear I’d lose control.
I threw my phone on the couch cushion, slammed my laptop shut and combed my fingers through my bangs, pulling on them.
I wouldn’t start using drugs or alcohol again, would I?
That was behind me. My breath caught. But my trauma response included those things and hooking up with men.
My fear was hooking up with Travis could trigger the rest. But was it only a fear?
Shit, I didn’t know. I was probably the only person in the world to have this stupid problem.
After picking up my phone again, I opened it, then stared at the number.
I should call. I could simply tell them I needed the name of a good therapist to talk to.
But then they might ask why. They might need to know specifics so they could assign the right one.
“Fuck.” I set the phone on the couch cushion and reopened my laptop.
I could lose myself in schoolwork for a while and forget all this shit.
I didn’t want to do this. I hated confrontation, and this lunch would surely be confrontational. With a long sigh, I cut the engine in my car and strolled toward Barrio Queen for my lunch with Sara. As I ambled along, I wiped my sweaty palms across my hips.
Approaching the building, I slowed down. It was a classic mission style, with white stucco walls and precast surrounding the large windows. A portico of rustic wooden beams covered the entrance. As my pulse raced, I opened one of the glass doors and stepped inside.
Sara sat at the bar, resting to one side of the dining area, with tufted maroon chairs and a dark granite bar top. She smiled and waved at me.
Damn it, now I’d have to sit next to her instead of across from her.
I dragged in a long breath and strolled to her, scanning the inside of the restaurant, all in white except for the colorful Mexican artwork hanging from the walls and the half-full retro dining tables and chairs.
The place was eclectic. I’d give it that.
“Hi.” I hitched onto a barstool next to hers and gave her a weak smile.
A few other patrons sat at the bar, sipping margaritas.
“No kiss?” She leaned in, tapping her cheek.
“Oh, sorry.” With a choked laugh, I kissed her cheek and then picked up the menu resting in front of me. I should probably order an iced tea. I didn’t want to have a buzz going when I broke it off with her.
“The margaritas are fantastic here.” She pointed to my menu.
“They offer flights of them too.” With a quick giggle, she said, “That’s what I’m starting with.
Then I can taste them and see which one I like the best.” She bumped her shoulder on mine.
“In fact, I’ll get one flight, and you get the other, then we can taste them all. ”
“Oh, I, uh, I didn’t plan on drinking.” I rubbed my temple as I scanned the food selection, filled with the standard Mexican fare. When should I start the conversation we needed to have? While we ate, or after?
“Oh, come on. You can have one flight. If we’re shopping after, you’ll have time to sober up before you go to Evan’s apartment.” Her gaze hardened. “I’m sure you’ll drink with him while you watch the game, anyway.”
I swiveled on my barstool to face her. “Yeah, I intend on having a few beers with him, so I don’t want to drink now.” There, that was a perfect excuse.
With a tut, she said, “You’re no fun sometimes. This was supposed to be fun.”
The bartender approached us, and she ordered two flights anyway, one for her and one for me.
“Why did you do that?” I rubbed my forehead. She never listened to me. Even without Travis in the picture, it would never have worked with her.
“Because you need to loosen up. You can have a few sips, right?” She gave me a charming smile.
“Yes, fine.” I wouldn’t argue with her right now. I had to save my energy for what might come later. I set my menu on the bar top.
“So, when are you seeing Tex again?” She sipped her water.
“Uh, not until Tuesday. We have a tutoring session.” I watched the bartender set our margarita flights down, and then we both ordered an assortment of street tacos. I took a sip of the strawberry margarita. Maybe if she saw me drink it, she’d lay off me about it.
“Yeah? You two seem like you’re getting close.” She drank from a jalapeno margarita. “Oh, that’s strong.” Covering her mouth with the back of her hand, she giggled.
I narrowed my eyes at her. Why was she mentioning that? “Yeah, he’s a decent guy and we’re becoming friends.”