Chapter 10 Aaron
ten
Aaron
I’m so aware of Nick beside me I can barely think.
The warmth of his body. The scent of his cologne.
The brush of his arm against mine, and the shock that runs through me when he puts his hand on my lower back as we cross Fell.
It’s protective. It’s comforting. It’s sexy as all get-out, and I love that his hand lingers when we reach the other side of the street as if he’s reluctant to let me go.
I nearly swoon with how perfect it feels to be with him, heading toward his apartment, and the prospect of an afternoon together.
I’m a bit nervous about what he might expect, but I’m not going to let that keep me from finding out because somehow I know Nick won’t push for anything that makes me uncomfortable.
This is completely opposite of how I usually am with guys.
I can’t even fully explain it because my experience with attraction is so limited and my track record speaks for itself.
A handful of crushes that helped me figure out I was gay, maybe half a dozen hookups that taught me I wasn’t into casual and needed to feel a connection with someone before my body showed any signs of interest. And connections take more time to develop than guys I’ve met through the apps or at bars have wanted to give me.
Maybe that’s why it feels different with Nick.
I’m not going to assume I know the totality of how Zack’s death affected him, but it definitely has, and he’s been there for me in ways not even my own family has been able to because they’re mired in their own grief.
I connected with Nick because of his consideration and concern, the way he took care of me and Kit and got involved when he could have walked away.
The image his friends have of him as this player?
That’s not who I’ve met at all, and it’s not the person who asked if I needed to leave brunch when I felt overwhelmed.
I am conflicted over how attracted I am to Nick because of Zack, though.
I mean, it’s not like they were boyfriends.
They barely knew each other, and I remind myself Nick didn’t even know Zack’s name until he saw the flyer.
When I think about how I would tell my family about him if things progressed for us, I get a funny feeling in my stomach.
Yeah, that guy Zack was with the day he died, yeah, I’m seeing him now. I can’t even imagine their reactions.
This is about as far from a meet-cute as I could possibly get, and I’m on the verge of telling Nick I just remembered something urgent I’ve got to take care of when his hand brushes against mine.
Those same tendrils of excitement I felt as we crossed the street spark and fizz up my arm and make my heart beat a little quicker.
I steal a glance at him and blush when I catch him doing the same.
We hold each other’s gaze for a moment, then Nick glances downward, and I’m sure he’s staring at my lips.
I watch the tip of his tongue dart along the inside of his before he’s looking into my eyes again.
It’s the swooniest moment I’ve ever had in my life, and I bite my lower lip as I duck my head because it’s too much for me.
The tension between us fades as we reach Nick’s building and through all the mechanics of unlocking doors, climbing stairs, entering his apartment.
He takes off his coat and hangs it in a closet to the left of the front door, then holds out his hand for mine.
Our fingers brush as I give it to him, and there’s that shock again at this most tenuous of contact.
Nick clears his throat. “What…uh…what do you want to order?” He walks into the kitchen and opens a drawer full of take-out menus, and the contradiction of an IT guy who still collects paper menus makes me smile as I follow him.
“I don’t care,” I say. “I’m pretty easy.”
“Are you?” Nick asks, the tease in his voice clear.
My face heats. “Sometimes.”
Our gazes lock. I’m not sure either one of us is breathing. I don’t know who moves first, but Nick definitely makes contact before I do, reaching out to cradle my face, his fingers brushing along my jaw, his thumb tracing the edge of my lower lip.
“Is this okay?” he asks.
“Yeah,” I say and slide an arm around his waist, tentative, my hold light. “And this?”
He nods. “May I kiss you?”
“Please.”
I’m sure by Nick’s standards, it’s pretty chaste.
There’s no crashing of mouths, no gasps, no frantic fumbles to pull clothing free and touch skin.
Instead, it’s a gentle meeting of our lips with soft caresses from Nick’s fingers on the underside of my jaw.
But it’s mind-blowing for me. I’ve never felt so cherished in someone’s embrace before, never felt as if a kiss was the focus, the reason someone was touching me.
No further destination. No pushing for more.
Simply this moment, and the two of us standing in Nick’s kitchen, and knowing I don’t have to worry I’m not going to be enough for him.
Nick doesn’t move away when the kiss ends, he simply rests his forehead against mine and sighs. Then he laughs.
“What?” I whisper.
“None of my friends will believe we’re not in bed already,” he says.
I pull back slightly so I can see his expression. “Does that matter?” I ask.
“No.” His thumb grazes my lower lip again, stroking slowly. He opens his mouth as if he’s about to say something, then closes it and shakes his head.
“What?” I ask.
“Nothing.” Stepping away from me, he points to the menus. “What do you want?”
I reach out and pull him close again. “Nick…” I say softly.
“We don’t have to be anything but what we want to be, and we don’t have to figure that out right now.
” Feeling brave, I lift his chin with my hand and touch my lips to his.
“I’m happy to be here with you and to take the time we need to figure it out together. ”
It’s Nick’s turn to pull back from me enough to see my face. His eyes move as if he’s looking for something, trying to read my expression. There’s fear in his. Not a lot, but it’s there, and I wonder if he expected me to be disappointed in him.
“Are you okay?” I ask.
“You’re not going to let me get away with anything, are you?” he whispers.
“I’m hoping you won’t feel as if you have to.”
He swallows hard and then melts against me, his arms going around my waist, his head nestling against my shoulder. My arms engulf him, and we rock gently against each other. When we finally part, Nick wipes his eyes and gives me a rueful grin.
“This is not what I expected when we left Boogaloo’s,” he says. “But I’m not sorry this is what’s happened.”
I smile at him. “I’m not either.” Then I reach for the menus.
An hour later, Nick’s coffee table is littered with the detritus of our meal.
We’d agreed on Thai, and the containers in front of us hold the remnants of the garlic noodles, chili wings, and a really delicious tea leaf salad we demolished.
Though we started off with some space between us, we’ve gravitated to the center of the couch and are now sitting thigh to thigh as we battle over the remaining noodles.
Nick keeps getting his chopsticks in the way of mine, and we’re both laughing.
Finally, I emerge triumphant and slurp the last few noodles into my mouth, immediately aware that Nick’s gaze is fixed firmly on my lips which now glisten with sauce and oil.
I make a show of licking my lips, enjoying how Nick’s blue eyes turn stormy, how his breath deepens, how he leans into me, then hesitates.
“It’s okay,” I whisper, putting my chopsticks in the now-empty container.
“Garlic breath,” he says and starts to pull back from me.
Without thinking, I reach out, my hand skating along his neck, fingers creating a gentle pull to bring him closer again.
And then, we are kissing again. It’s not frantic, it’s not explosive.
It’s soft and gentle and everything I’ve ever wanted in a kiss.
We end up lying face to face on the couch, Nick’s back pressed against the cushions, his arms around me.
It’s a tight fit and basically means our bodies are touching from head to toes, but neither of us are acting as if we want anything more.
Even when I feel Nick’s cock thicken against mine, he doesn’t rock against me or change how he’s kissing me. I love it. Am I aroused? Absolutely. It’s how I’ve always dreamed things should be when I’m getting to know someone and never gotten before.
We kiss for a long time before I feel one of Nick’s hands teasing at the waistband of my pants. He’s not trying to go lower or undo them or anything like that, but he clearly wants something, so I pull back from him slightly, loving the way his lips are puffy and so, so red.
“What do you want?” I ask and bring one of my hands up so I can stroke his face.
Nick sighs and his eyes flutter shut. He shakes his head.
“What do you want?” I ask again, utterly enthralled by the beauty that is this man I hold in my arms. He’s completely different from who I assumed him to be when we met, and I learned how similar he and Zack were. “Nick?”
“Skin,” he whispers. “I want to touch you.”
“Okay,” I say because I know he doesn’t mean he wants to get naked and move on to more athletic events. When he pulls my shirt from my waistband and strokes my back, I smile at being able to read him right. “And you?” I ask, wanting to feel him beneath my hands as well.
When Nick sighs at the touch of my palm on the smooth skin of his back, I close the distance between us so we can kiss again.
Eventually, we put on a movie and Nick grabs us a couple of beers, but we largely ignore both as our attention keeps drifting back to slow, lazy kisses and gentle caresses.
I’ve got my head in Nick’s lap, and he’s running his fingers through my hair, and I realize I’m more relaxed than I’ve been since Zack didn’t show up at our family brunch.
Without meaning to, I drift off, and when I wake up, the sun’s gone down. The apartment is shadowed, the only light coming from the TV, but Nick is still stroking my head. I roll onto my back and look up at him.
“Sorry for conking out like that,” I say.
“Not a problem. I kind of enjoyed it.”
“Yeah?”
Nick nods, and I reach up to stroke his face. My fingers catch slightly on stubble, and I love the rough abrasion against them. I can almost feel the turn in my body as I realize how attracted I am to Nick.
“Would you like to go to dinner with me this week?” I ask.
“Are you asking me out on a date?”
“I am. I want to spend more time with you and get to know you better because I think there might be something here between us. I want to find out if I’m right.”
Even in the dim light, Nick’s smile illuminates his face. “I’d like that,” he says, and then he slays me by saying, “I don’t think I’ve ever been asked out on a real date before.”
“I’m happy to change that,” I say and lean in for another kiss.