Chapter 10
MATTHEW
The feel of hot water coursing over my aching muscles was heaven, and I let out a groan, not unlike the one I’d emitted during my jerk-off session last night.
My cock gave a hopeful twitch at the reminder, but I resolutely ignored it.
I’d slept better last night than I could remember sleeping for a long time, and yet I’d awoken with a restless energy that I wasn’t sure what to do with.
I’d thought sweeping the half inch of new snow off the balcony would help, but I still couldn’t shake that feeling.
I’d gotten off to a gay sex scene last night.
There was no denying it had turned me on.
I’d tried to convince myself it was the act itself that had gotten me hot and not the fact that it was between two guys, but that explanation rang hollow.
Which led me to my next question . . . Why did it bother me?
Was I carrying around some sort of latent, internalized homophobia?
I didn’t think so. I thought it was more likely a question of how it could be possible to not know this about myself.
I’d never thought about a guy in that way before.
Had never thought about another man’s cock.
I certainly hadn’t thought about what it would feel like to have one in my mouth.
I’d known Ally was it for me from the first time I’d seen her in my second period science class sophomore year.
Once I’d seen her, I hadn’t seen anyone else.
If I’d played the field a little more, would I have figured it out?
Would I have allowed myself to explore the possibility of being attracted to someone other than a woman?
I supposed I’d never know, and I certainly couldn’t regret what Ally and I had shared.
But Jesus, what would Ally think? She’d probably . . . love it, actually. She’d always been a big believer in the beauty of love in all its forms. She’d probably get a kick out of my predicament and tell me to stop taking myself so seriously. Enjoy the orgasm, no matter what had inspired it.
God, I missed her.
I finished up my shower and dressed in jeans and a flannel, and was just combing my fingers through my hair when a knock sounded at my door.
A sigh escaped, my gut telling me who I’d likely find there.
And it turned out my gut had been right, as I opened my door to find Louis standing on my doorstep, quite literally wringing his hands.
He was wearing a fitted black sweater with the sleeves pushed up over his forearms and fitted jeans that hugged his thighs.
He was more muscular than I’d expected. I frowned at the thought. Where had that come from?
“I’m sorry to bother you. I told myself I was going to stop bugging you, but I just got off a call with my family, and while I told myself I wanted to be alone this Christmas, I’m having second thoughts about that.
” His words were coming out fast, and I struggled to keep up.
“I don’t know what your plans are today, and maybe you have family somewhere, but I saw you sweeping the walkway this morning—thank you for that, by the way—and I thought maybe you might possibly want to have Christmas dinner with me.
It’s totally okay if not. You barely know me, and I know I annoy you .
. . You know what? Never mind. This was a terrible idea. I’m sorry I bothered you.”
“You’re apologizing again,” I said as he turned to go.
“What?”
“You’re apologizing again.”
“Oh. Sorry.”
I raised my eyebrow meaningfully, and he winced.
Looking defeated, he readjusted his glasses and said, “I’ll just get out of your hair. Merry Christmas, Matthew.”
“What time?”
He looked down at his naked wrist. “I’m not wearing my watch, but I think it’s around ten thirty.”
“What time is dinner?”
“Oh. Um, two thirty. It’s just a small prime rib, mashed potatoes, and green beans.” He shrugged as if that wasn’t an impressive menu.
“Considering I was planning on heating up a can of soup, that sounds pretty good to me.”
Something brushed against my legs, and I looked down to find Ernie sticking a curious nose out the door. Louis immediately crouched down and reached out a hand for Ernie to sniff. The cat gave a little chirp then bumped his head into Louis’s hand.
Louis looked up at me, smiling brightly. “What’s its name?”
I was so stunned by his smile that it took me a moment to remember he’d asked me a question. “Ernie.”
“Like Bert and Ernie?”
“Like Ernest Hemingway.”
“Perfect for a bookstore owner.” He stood, his smile dimming to something more polite.
“I better get back so I can get dinner started. I’ll see you at two thirty?”
At my nod, he headed back into his apartment, while I did the same. I scooped up Ernie, scratching the top of his head as he purred in my arms. “Looks like we have dinner plans.”
I couldn’t remember the last time I’d stood in front of the full-length mirror and contemplated what I was wearing. Most days a flannel and jeans was sufficient. But for reasons I didn’t care to scrutinize, I was currently on my third change of clothes.
Why did I care what I wore to dinner? Why did I care what Louis thought about my attire?
I’d been perfectly content at the thought of spending Christmas alone.
It was just like any other day. In fact, I preferred it to feel like any other day.
It made the fact that I didn’t have anyone to spend it with easier to bear.
Louis wasn’t wrong, he did annoy me, but not for the reasons he thought.
He pushed me out of my routine. Challenged the status quo.
Shook things up in ways I wasn’t prepared for.
But as he’d lamented the idea of spending Christmas alone, I realized that maybe I didn’t want to spend the day alone either.
Moreover, I didn’t want him to spend Christmas alone.
He was outgoing. Gregarious. Larger than life.
He was meant to be surrounded by people.
I wasn’t sure why he’d sought out a week of solitude during the holidays, but the way he’d lit up when I’d agreed to come to dinner .
. . It had been a long time since I’d been the cause of someone else’s smile.
The warmth that spread through me had been a forgotten feeling, but was one I found myself wanting to feel again.
So here I was, standing in front of the full-length mirror I’d installed for Ally many years ago, dressed in a cream-colored cable knit sweater I’d forgotten I had, paired with my good jeans, feeling like an idiot.
“It’s just dinner,” I said to Ernie, who blinked at me as if he wasn’t buying my bullshit. Shaking my head, I crossed to my closet and pulled out a pair of shoes, then I made my way into the kitchen, stopping to pull a bottle of red wine out of the cabinet, and headed next door.