38. Orion
Orion
Idon’t feel great at all. My ears are ringing, and I get all woozy when I try to move my head.
I’m lying on the sofa, hands crossed over my chest because that’s how Jordan positioned me when we got home.
I know I look like someone at the mortuary, about to be buried, and I know it’s not a flattering look because my nose is pointed a little too high in the air and my bottom jaw is hanging open as a result.
But unfortunately, I don’t have the wherewithal to do anything about it right now.
Now that the dust has settled, the scene that unfolded at the clinic is filtering through my consciousness, coming through in horrifying snippets that play out like the trailer of a bad movie.
Jordan inches a butt cheek onto the sofa beside me and brushes my hair off my face.
He’s wearing the same expression he wore when I had the flu, only this time, in addition to over-the-top concern, it’s mingled with something a little mushy too.
He leans down and kisses my forehead reverently, then he holds a bendy straw near my lips and offers me a sip of Pepsi with ice.
I accept it gratefully.
“I’m sorry I tried to run away,” I say.
Technically, I didn’t try to run so much as I successfully went on a rampage. I knocked one of those stainless-steel carts over, sent stacks of paper and medical equipment flying, and almost ripped a door from its hinges in my haste to escape certain death by needle.
It was unbelievably bad.
The more I think about it, the worse it gets. Oh God. I have so much to apologize for. “I’m sorry I kicked and screamed when you caught me.”
I wanted to get the tests done, so before we went to the clinic, I made Jordan swear that he’d do whatever it took to help me get my blood taken.
I know him well enough to know I could count on his almost insane tenacity to make sure it happened.
I knew things would be hairy, but I didn’t expect myself to behave quite so badly.
I screamed in the street when Jordan caught up with me, loudly, and kicked like an animal headed for slaughter as he carried me back inside.
Because Jordan takes life supremely unseriously, he has the audacity to look mystified by what I’ve said. “Are you kidding, O? You don’t need to be sorry. It was completely fine. You did amazing, bud.”
“I cried, Jordy. A lot. And the five-year-old kid in the waiting room said, and I quote, ‘Chill, it’s not even that bad.’”
“I know it was a lot, but it was fine. When you think about it, the way it went down was actually a good thing.”
“Oh really?” This should be interesting. According to my recollection, the entire appointment was an absolute shit show. “How’d you figure that?”
“Well, we’ve been skipping gym a lot since we started our thing, so we needed the exercise. The run did us both good.”
That’s officially the most optimistically unhinged way of looking at something ever. The thing is, Jordan looks so earnest when he says it, so serious and sincere, I think there’s a decent chance he believes what he’s saying.
Despite myself, a long, wheezy giggle fizzes out of me. Jordan laughs too. As always, the sound of him happy crashes into me like a wall. A wall that crumbles and breaks down the last fragments of things that have kept us apart.
Since getting back from the cabin, my life has felt like a dream. At first, I felt like I was sleepwalking. I was terrified to make any sudden movements or do anything that could result in me waking. I’ve been tiptoeing through each day, hardly able to believe what’s happening between us.
Our conversation this morning has had me pinching myself all day. It’s hard to say what’s more unbelievable: the fact that Jordan told me he loves me, or the fact that it’s happening in real life. To me.
But it is. It is real.
I know that because an ancient, shriveled-up part of me came to life in the kitchen this morning.
A part that fell in love with a dusty-blond boy when we were kids.
A part that has refused to die no matter how much I willed it to.
A tiny, wizened-up sliver of my heart that has always clung to hope, no matter how much I tried to move on.
It’s a part that whispered encouragement to me in my lowest moments. That shielded me when loving him hurt. That refused to accept reason or be dimmed by Reality. A hopeful quadrant of my soul that has never quite managed to accept that there was no chance for me and Jordan at all.
I’ve railed against it for years, but now, as I lie here like a glorified corpse, the man I love to distraction nuzzles his gorgeous face into the hollow between my shoulder and neck, and of course, I let him.
I don’t just let him. I welcome his touch.
It feels so good, so right that I can honestly say that every day, every single one of the long, lonely days that brought us here, was worth it.
Still, in the interest of getting our relationship off to a good start, I think it’s important that I apologize for a few more things.
“Sorry about what I said to the receptionist at the clinic. That wasn’t me.
” Jordan nods gravely. “And sorry you had to hold me down like that.” He waves me off, assuring me it was no bother.
He’s wrong. It was a lot of bother. I clipped him on the ear before he was able to subdue me successfully.
“And sorry I fainted. I know that must have been scary for you.”
“That was not your fault, Orion!” he says sharply, lifting his head and blitzing me with a sea-blue gaze. His expression shifts, changing from impassioned to something a lot more formal than is usual for him. “However, I do think there are lessons to be learned from this.”
“Oh yeah, like what?”
“For one thing, I think we should all remember that your phobia of needles is serious. You did well today, but it’s not something you want to repeat in a hurry.
I think the best thing for you will be to make sure that you never, ever do anything that makes it so you need to get tested for STIs again. That’s what I think.”
Hilarity rushes out of me in a snort. “You can’t seriously think I’d ever step out on you.”
His top lip rests lightly on the bottom, pulling slightly in uncertainty. “I trust you, O, I do. But I know you have a lot going on, what with coming out and everything. I know this is new for you because when I asked if you’d ever had a crush on me, you said, ‘Like, for a minute.’”
Guilt gnaws at my insides, chewing on the memory of that conversation and what I said to him.
I pull myself up, sitting and tucking a leg under my butt as I wait for Jordan to adopt a position that mirrors mine.
When we’re both upright, I clear the air.
“I did say that. And when you asked me what happened—”
“You said, ‘Then I got to know you.’” He tries for a big smile, but it goes wobbly. His face falls and he breaks eye contact. “I get it, O. Things change and—”
I reach for his hand and take it in mine, waiting until the slight tension raising his shoulders releases before speaking.
“What I said was true. Back when we met, I had a crush on you, and then I got to know you, and that changed how I felt about you. It wasn’t the whole truth though.
I left some things out. When I got to know you, I got to know who you are and what you stand for.
I got to know all the things that make you, you.
” My chin trembles, but I press on despite the lump in my throat, “and when that happened…it stopped being a crush and”—a tiny, painful sob breaks free, blurring my vision—“and it turned into love.”
Handsome features transform as I watch. Perfectly arched brows shoot upward. Blue-and-gold irises light up, and full lips morph into something that can only be described as a grin that leans strongly toward shithead. “Wait. Do you mean…this whole time?”
His hands are on my knees, sliding up my thighs and winding around my waist before pulling me into the softest, gentlest embrace. He kisses my cheeks, then the tip of my nose, then my lips. Sweet, chaste kisses that level me as thoroughly as his deep kisses do.
“This whole time,” I whisper against his warm lips. “The whole time. Every day. Since the beginning. It’s always been you, Jordy. There’s never been anyone else.”
My tongue sweeps across the seam of his lips.
He parts them, letting me in. Welcoming me in.
Our tongues find each other and sparks fly.
A heady combination of love and arousal lights up every pleasure center in my body.
When the kiss breaks apart, my head spins again, but for a completely different reason this time.
“You don’t need to be jealous, Jealous Guy, ’cause you’re the one for me. The only one.”
I open my eyes to see what Jordan’s reaction to my admission is. I find his expression lined with pain and regret.
He throws his arms around my neck and crushes me. “I’m sorry it took me longer to get here than it took you.”
He cradles my head against his, holding me like something precious to him.
“I didn’t know you were an option, Orion.
I swear, I had no idea I could have more with you.
I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I should have known there was something between us because the way I feel about you and the way I feel about other people isn’t the same. It’s never been the same.”
“The way I feel about you isn’t the same as the way I feel about other people either.”
“It’s weird, but I kind of feel like you’re mine.
I’ve felt this way forever, even when we were just friends.
I know it’s possessive and possibly problematic, but it’s true.
When I think of you, I think of you as something that belongs to me.
” He glances down, knitting his fingers together apologetically.
“I can work on it if you think it’s too much. ”
“I don’t think it’s too much,” I say quickly. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I think you’re crazy. But I’m into it.”