Chapter 13
CHAPTER
THIRTEEN
SAWYER
What. The. Fuck. Is. Happening.
I’m paralyzed. Half out of my seat. Hands hovering in mid-air. Eyes opened wide.
And my lips are pressed flush against Preston’s.
I can’t move. I can’t breathe. I don’t dare.
Preston is kissing me. Preston. My straight best friend. My roommate since high school. The guy I’ve been hopelessly in love with for years. He’s kissing me. On the lips. With his lips. On mine.
Granted, that’s all he’s doing. There’s no movement. Absolutely no tongue. It’s not so much a kiss, more like one part of his body resting on the same part of mine. Like maybe his lips were tired and he’s using mine as a pillow? No, that’s ridiculous. Even for Preston.
It’s more like he’s trying to kiss me, but he doesn’t know how. He understands that kisses involve lips, but he’s not sure what to do once the first step is completed.
So I show him.
Because I’m a fool, I’m a sucker for punishment, and I’m hardwired to help Preston at all times, even to my own detriment… I purse my lips, increase the pressure, part them slightly to catch him in a gentle nip.
Preston gasps and my tongue moves on auto-pilot, slipping out to lick at the opening he’s given me. He whimpers and strains toward me, and that’s when my brain truly breaks. Completely short-circuits. Flash. Fizzle. Wisps of smoke.
I grab him. Haul him into my lap. Preston spreads his legs so he’s straddling me. My one hand goes under the coat his wearing and the other to the back of his head to guide him through the kiss. His arms snake around my neck like he’s never intending to let me go.
I lick, swiping my tongue across his chapped lips.
He tries chasing it with his own and I let him catch me.
Our tongues touch and it sparks a fire that rips straight through me, landing in my groin where my cock has gone from zero to a hundred in a microsecond.
My hips tilt up as I pull Preston down so I can grind my erection into his ass.
He hugs me tighter, threatening to strangle me, but I don’t care. This is fucking Preston, in my arms, in my lap, kissing me. I could die and go to heaven right this second and have no regrets.
My tongue tingles as it slides over his, the nerve endings on high alert and sensitive. Preston squirms against me, wriggling his ass on my cock and pressing himself more fully against my body.
He tastes exactly the way I always imagined he would. Sweet and smoky, herbal and woodsy, a complex mix that is uniquely Preston. The taste winds its way through me, sinks its claws in deep, and turns me into its captive. I love this taste. I’m addicted to it. I’ll never get enough.
“Sawyer? Oh! Uh…”
We both jump. Preston flies backward and lands on the couch with an oomph. My head snaps around to find Beau standing in the doorway, expression wavering between confused and amused.
“Sorry to interrupt?” Though he doesn’t look very apologetic at all. He looks altogether too smug.
“No! You’re not!” I shoot to my feet and the chair topples over behind me. I scramble to pick it up and slide it back under the table. Only then do I notice the water spilled all over the floor. “Shit.”
I rush to grab paper towels and mop up the puddle. As I move, my limbs don’t feel entirely under my control. They do what I want, go where I want, but I’m so removed from my body, it feels more like a puppet I’m directing.
“Whenever you’re finished up here, there’s something I could use your help with,” Beau says from the doorway.
“Yep, yeah, sure thing. Be right there,” I say, on my hands and knees pushing around the soaked paper towels.
Beau slips out and I let out a breath, head falling forward as my brain rushes to catch up with reality. Preston. My straight best friend, Preston. Kissed me. And I kissed him back. My lips are still tingling. My dick is still chubby. I want to kiss him again. Desperately.
I slump back onto my heels.
Preston’s curled into a ball on the couch, knees pulled to his chest. His eyes are wide with fear, and the sight of him like that pierces me right through the chest.
“Sorry,” he whispers and the single word twists the blade in my heart.
What in the fucking world is he sorry for? For kissing me? For whimpering into my mouth? For writhing in my arms? Because I’m not sorry about any of that. I’ve dreamed about this every fucking day for over a decade. This is a fantasy come to life for me.
“No,” I shuffle on my knees over to him, not caring that my pants are getting wet. “Don’t be sorry. Never be sorry.”
It’s awkward with his legs folded between us, but I get as close as I can. My chest is pressed to his shins and I brush his hair back from his face. I don’t know why he bolted from school without his things. I don’t know why he was so frantic to find me. I don’t know why he kissed me.
But there is one thing I do know—I love Preston and I never want him to feel sorry or regret for anything.
If it means I pretend the last fifteen minutes never happened. If it means I get my heart trampled on and broken. If it means I satisfy myself with only ever being his friend. Then that’s what I’ll do.
“Everything’s going to be okay,” I say. No matter what the problem is. No matter what it takes, I’ll make sure of it.
A throat clears behind me and fucking hell, I hate that I’m at work right now. I glare over my shoulder and feel only mildly contrite when Beau cocks an eyebrow at me.
Fuck.
I swallow down the curses poised at the tip of my tongue and give Beau a reluctant nod.
“Hey, I’ve got to go back out there for a bit,” I murmur to Preston who grabs me like he’s afraid I’ll disappear if I’m out of his sight. My soul aches at the gesture. “I’ll come back. I’m not leaving.”
“Promise?” he asks in a small, fragile voice.
“Promise.” I take his hand and place it over my heart. “I promise.”
I pry myself out of Preston’s grasp and it absolutely kills me to pull away from him. But I can’t just walk out on Beau and Gavin in the middle of my shift.
I scoop up the sopping pile of paper towels, dump them into the trash bin, plaster a smile on my face, and march out to the front desk.
Music blares. Logan’s blender whirs. People shout at each other. Equipment crashes and bangs as it’s being thrown around. When did this place get so loud?
“Here he is!” Beau waves me over. “Sawyer’s our front desk manager. He’ll get you registered and all set up in the system. Remember that first free personal training session I mentioned? Sawyer can get that booked in for you too.”
I’ve never disliked my job as much as I do at this moment. Meeting a new member, cracking jokes to make him feel comfortable, answering his questions—all the things I normally love about my job, today, I hate. Because it’s taking me away from where I really want to be: with Preston.
But I grit my teeth and fake my way through it, even taking him back to the main floor to show him a specific piece of equipment. I go above and fucking beyond, all while the love of my life waits for me in the break room, freaking out.
By the time I get the dude out the front door, it’s been twenty minutes.
“Hey, Sawyer!”
I ignore whoever is calling my name and race back to the break room, seized by the sudden fear that maybe I imagined everything.
Maybe Preston didn’t burst into the gym having just hightailed it from school.
Maybe he didn’t launch himself at me. Maybe we didn’t share the hottest, most perfect kiss in my entire life.
Maybe I’ll round the corner and find the break room empty.
But it’s not. Preston’s still there, exactly where I left him, curled in a ball on the couch. The relief is so staggering I have to grab the doorframe to keep from collapsing. Fuck. I didn’t imagine it. He did kiss me. And I kissed him back.
Fuuuccckkk. Preston kissed me. My straight best friend. And I kissed him back. The full weight of it hits me and it’s a good thing I’m already holding the doorframe because otherwise I’d be on the floor.
Why— Wha— How—
My brain threatens to short-circuit for the second time today as the reality of what happened collides with what I know about me and Preston. He kissed me. I kissed him back. That’s not supposed to happen. That’s not even supposed to be possible.
“Sawyer?” Preston regards me from across the room, his blue eyes big and watery with unshed tears. He’s so precious, so exquisite, and god, I love him so fucking much.
I stagger toward him, land on the couch, and immediately pull him to me. He curls into my side, head automatically tucking under my chin, face pressed against my neck.
I love him. And right now, that love is so big and it fills me so completely, I’m bursting. It’s consuming me, burning me up and devastating me.
How did I ever think I could be with anyone else? How did I ever believe there was anything left of me to give to another person? There isn’t. I’ve already given everything I am to Preston.
But one kiss doesn’t mean Preston loves me the way I love him. I’m not so foolish to assume it does. Preston’s straight. He’s asexual and aromantic. Something happened to make him kiss me. He didn’t suddenly, after all these years, just feel like it.
And I think I know what—or rather who—that something is. Fitz.
Preston started acting strange the moment Fitz came into the picture.
I thought he just needed time to get used to a new person, but he never did.
If anything, he got worse, moodier, crankier.
Now that I think about it, the closer I got to Fitz, the more distant and weirder he became. It all goes back to Fitz.
Was he afraid Fitz would steal me away? Did he think I would leave him for Fitz?
Oh, Preston. I hold him tighter and he nuzzles in deeper.
I would never. I could never. He doesn’t need to kiss me to make me stay. He doesn’t need to offer himself up as some sort of sexual tribute just to keep me. The absolute last thing I want is to pressure him into something like that—the thought of it makes me sick.
“It’s okay,” I murmur, as much to myself as to Preston. “We’re going to be okay. Everything’s going to be okay.”
Beau appears in the doorway again and my stomach sinks. I really don’t want to leave Preston to go back to work.
But Beau is the absolute best boss in the world. “Do you need to take off early today?”
“Can I?” Gratitude and relief pour through me.
He quirks his lips like he’s being put upon, but his eyes are understanding. “Go on, get out of here. We’ll manage without you for half a day.”
“Thank you. So much. I’ll make it up to you, promise.”
“Yeah, yeah.” He waves me off but flashes me a quick smile before turning away.
I give Preston a little shake. “How about we get out of here?”
He nods and sniffles, pulling away from me to wipe his damp cheeks with the back of his hand.
His long black lashes are clumped together with moisture.
The whites of his eyes are tinted red. His bottom lip is bruised and swollen like he’s been chewing on it.
He’s the most gorgeous person I’ve ever laid eyes on.
“Come on.” I stand and pull Preston to his feet. “Let’s go home.”