Chapter Eleven Colin
Chapter Eleven
Colin
Declan and I decide to pick up dinner on our second to last night on campus. We go to a pizza place we both love that’s within walking distance of the university.
On the way back, we are caught up in reminiscing about our favorite memories from the last four years. And there are so many.
It’s hard to believe I am the same person who showed up here four years ago.
The old me was so naive and yet so ambitious.
Since then, I’ve gotten drunk—a lot—discovered my sexuality, and, maybe most importantly, made a best friend.
It’s sad to think I never truly had a best friend before Declan.
It’s hard to remember my life before Declan was in it.
And he’s right, we do go together so well. We just fit. With Declan, I understand myself better. With him, I don’t feel so misshapen and different. With him, I’m not alone.
“Remember that girl I slept with a few times back in my second year?” he asks.
“The one who stole your socks?” I ask, making Declan laugh.
“She was such a wild bitch. I liked her.”
“Yeah, I know you did. You slept with her three times,” I say. I’m not entirely fond of the memory of him sleeping with anybody, but I do like to see him laugh.
“Oh yeah, I wonder what happened to her,” he says.
“And your socks.”
We both break out in laughter as we approach our building. From afar, I can already see Malcolm standing out front with a group of his friends, and judging by the sound of their voices and the way they’re talking, I can already tell that they are piss drunk. The hairs on my neck raise in suspense.
Maybe if Declan and I just keep our heads down, and talk to each other and not to them, they’ll ignore us or won’t notice us.
Of course, that’s not what happens. As soon as we approach with no other way to enter the building but passing by them, Malcolm shouts at me from the side of his huddle of friends.
“Oh, it’s the two lovebirds!” he calls. “Aren’t you two so fucking cute together? What are you going to do without each other after this school year, eh? You two gonna live together?”
“Ignore him,” I mutter under my breath. Naturally, Declan doesn’t listen to me.
“You’re just jealous, Malcolm! That you can’t have a piece of this,” Declan taunts, gesturing to his body.
I roll my eyes as I tug him toward the door. “I said ignore him.”
“Oh fuck him, why do I have to ignore him? He’s the ignorant bastard.” He says it a little too loudly, and we’re so close to the door when Malcolm shouts at my friend.
“What the fuck did you call me?” Malcolm bellows as he barrels toward us. He gives Declan a quick shove and something inside of me burns like I’ve never felt it burn before.
“He said you’re an ignorant bastard,” I bark back at him.
Malcolm stares down at me angrily. “You better watch it, you little bitch,” he snarls. “I’ll knock you out right here.”
The only thing I have going for me right now is that he’s drunk and I’m sober. I’m not taller than him, stronger than him, or tougher than him. I’ve never thrown a punch in my entire life, and I’m fairly certain it would only take one from him to completely knock me out forever.
But I’m fueled by hatred. I hate that he calls me names. I hate that he put his hands on Declan. I hate that he thinks he can do whatever he wants, and I’ll just do what he says.
“Shelby, let’s go,” Declan mutters lowly from my side. Suddenly, it’s him pulling me toward the door instead of the other way around.
“No. Fuck this guy,” I say, staring up at Malcolm. “He’s pushed us around long enough, Declan.”
“Because you’re a couple rich little bitches,” Malcolm adds, shoving me in the chest. “What the fuck are you going to do about it?”
My hand balls into a fist and I don’t think. I just swing.
I put everything I have into that punch.
I just see him pushing Declan again. I see him calling me a sissy boy and other disgusting names I’ve heard him throw around in the hallways.
I didn’t need to tell him my secret. It was as if he already knew.
He could see it on my face, and I hate him for that.
My fist connects with Malcolm’s cheek, and I can tell immediately by the look on his face that I’ve taken him by surprise. So I don’t give him a moment to react. I thrust my knee up into his gut and throw him toward the ground. He barely stumbles, and I hardly make it away.
Declan grabs my arm, and we take off in a quick sprint away from the group of guys. They are wild and howling with anger, chasing us as we run. Adrenaline courses through my veins, making everything blurry and terrifying.
My hand throbs. It hurts so bad I think I might have broken it, but I don’t care.
I like the pain. It’s exhilarating, reminding me that I’m alive, that I’m not the same boy I was four years ago.
That I don’t have to be silent and acquiescent anymore.
My heart is thudding in my chest as I gulp for each breath, running faster than I’ve ever run in my life.
Beside me, Declan’s footsteps echo mine, and when I glance over to the side to see his face, instead of finding fear or surprise or shock, I see him smile at me.
There are not a lot of places to hide on the campus this late at night, when most of the buildings are closed and everything is pretty quiet, but I still hear the footsteps of the guys behind us, so we keep running. We have a good gap between us.
As we round the gymnasium, I’m confident that we’re far enough away from Malcolm and his friends to stop running, so I pull Declan toward the door.
By some miracle, it opens. The enormous room is still and silent, and in the center is a large empty pool.
The lights beneath the surface are still on, reflecting the calm blue water on the walls with the smell of chlorine in the air.
Breathless, I stumble into the room and follow Declan as he scurries out of sight of the window.
There is a thin sheen of sweat on my skin and pulsing adrenaline in my veins.
Suddenly, Declan roughly fists the front of my shirt as he shoves me against the brick wall, the impact punching the air from my lungs.
He’s standing so close, his face just inches from mine as I wait for him to shout and berate me for doing something so stupid. His eyes are wired and frantic as he stares at me, our chests heaving breathlessly in sync.
Then, a smile spreads across his face, taking me by surprise. “That was fucking incredible,” Declan says with a laugh as he shakes me. “You are fucking incredible.”
I laugh in return. That wasn’t what I expected, but I’m not complaining. In fact, I’m loving how near he is to me right now. His breath is on my face. If I wanted to, I could just reach out and kiss him—and I do want to.
I’m too struck by this moment to care that there are men still chasing us or that my hand is probably broken. Because Declan is staring into my eyes with a feverish expression on his face.
Feeling bold, I grab his shirt and tug him closer, wondering if he even notices.
“I can’t believe I just did that,” I say.
“I swear to God, I could kiss you right now,” he replies excitedly.
I know he means it as a joke, but still, my heart nearly explodes out of my chest. Hot, liquid arousal courses through my veins. Then he grabs me on either side of my face, and I respond only with a smile as he presses his lips chastely against mine.
It’s a nothing kiss. A friendly kiss. The kind of kiss you give a family member.
But it’s enough for me.
His lips are there for only a second before he pulls away. He doesn’t move far.
I watch the shifting motion of his Adam’s apple as he swallows, and we’re still both panting, except now I’m panting from that kiss and his nearness. His hands are still on my face and my fingers are still wrapped around the soft fabric of his shirt.
Everything I want is in reach, and it feels reckless and dangerous. But after punching that rugby-playing bastard, I feel invincible. It has me thinking wild thoughts. Like…if Declan would just let himself kiss me for real, then maybe he would feel how good this is.
“Do that again,” I whisper breathlessly. I hardly recognize my own voice. I’m not the kind of guy who demands what he wants.
But Declan doesn’t hesitate. He crashes his lips against mine once more, but this time instead of a chaste, lifeless kiss, he holds his lips there before gently massaging mine with his. It’s tentative at first.
It almost feels as if we’re drunk, although we haven’t had a drop to drink all night. He’s my best friend and we’ve known each other for four years and now he’s kissing me.
As amazing as this is for me, I’m dying to know what it’s like for him. Does he want me to slip my tongue through his lips to taste his? Does he want me to grind against him, kiss his neck?
I will do it all.
I’ll do anything.
After the long close-mouthed kiss, he rests his forehead against mine. Even though our run is long past over, we’re still panting as one.
Finally, he whispers in a sexy plea, “Colin.”
The sound of my name on his lips sparks a fire in my groin.
“What?” I whisper.
“What’s happening?”
“I don’t know,” I say. “But you should kiss me again.”
Declan’s gaze finds mine as if he’s searching for answers. His eyes trail down to my lips, and I swear I see desire in them.
But instead of kissing me, he just whispers, “You know, I was thinking,” he says. “About what I said last night, about my offer, and it was a joke.”
At his words, the heat inside of me withers and dies. He’s letting me down. He’s telling me that I should stop wanting this. That I should have never looked at him the way I did last night.
Then he continues. “But maybe it doesn’t have to be a joke,” he says. “Because I would. I will. I’ll do that for you. I’m not afraid of—”
My mind is a mess, confused and turned on and hopeful, so I just do what I have to in order to get his mouth back on mine.
“Declan,” I say, interrupting him. “Will you just kiss me again, please?”
He’s still hesitant for a moment as his eyes trail back up to mine, and when they meet, he gives me a gentle smirk.
Then, instead of violently crashing his mouth against mine, he leans in and takes my lips in a delicate, passionate kiss.
And it’s more than the chaste pressing of skin together.
He licks my bottom lip ever so gently with his tongue.
My lips part, and the moment our tongues touch, sliding together in delicious delicate friction, I nearly melt to the floor.
I am assaulted by blazing-hot arousal. It strikes like lightning. The feel of his lips. The sight of his smirk. The reminder that this is Declan.
I let out a humiliating whimper, but it only seems to urge him on. He kisses me deeper and holds me tighter.
My grip on his shirt relaxes and my hands glide softly along his rib cage toward his back. Once I’ve met his shoulders, I move my fingers to the front, cascading over his chest, brushing against his nipples and then up to his neck. I wind my arms around him so I can pull him closer.
He deepens the kiss, nibbling on my lips, licking his way into my mouth, groaning as he does. His body is pressed against mine now and I try to memorize every rigid plane, every small detail, every ridge, the way his pulse feels, and the way his kiss tastes.
It’s a dream I don’t want to wake up from.
When something hard brushes against my hips, my body delights in excitement. He’s hard. He’s hard for me.
As Declan kisses me, I open my eyes, watching him as he devours my mouth, and I realize that he’s not doing this for me. He’s not kissing me because I asked him to. His eyes are closed, and he’s lost in the passion of it. He’s doing this because he wants to, because he feels what I feel.
I let out a groan as I pull him closer, wrapping my arms tighter around his neck and letting him devour every inch of my lips and my tongue and my face. I could stand here and let him kiss me for days—for years.
But all too soon, we hear the stomp of feet outside and we tense. No matter how dreamlike this kiss is, it won’t protect us from the reality that waits for us outside those doors.
Declan pulls away, seemingly breathless and caught up in the moment as he glances toward the exit.
He puts his body between me and the door, blocking me from the threat, and it makes my heart soar even more.
We wait tensely, praying that no one follows us, that no one finds us here like this, that we can just be alone and be us. That’s all I want.
But after a few moments, when it seems safe and like we truly are alone, Declan moves out of my reach. He turns away, staring at the pool and rubbing at the back of his neck—then shifting himself a little in his pants.
I’m still hanging on to that kiss as if I’m suspended over a cliff and it’s all that’s keeping me alive. I’m reeling in disbelief. That really just happened.
I want more. I want everything. I’d give him my body right now if he asked for it. He could do anything he wants to me. He has to know that.
He just offered, didn’t he? He said that I could have his body if I wanted it. But did he mean it? Even after that kiss, I don’t want to be a pity fuck to Declan. Does he want it, truly?
The only sound in the room is our heavy breaths as we wait for this moment to return to normal. To my utter shock, Declan reaches behind himself to grab his shirt and yanks it clean off of his body. My jaw drops.
“What are you doing?” I whisper.
“What do you think?” he replies.
I’m silently staring at him, waiting for anything to make sense, when he shucks off his pants and then his shoes. Then he’s standing before me in nothing but his briefs, looking back at me with a coy smile.
“I think we need a little cooling off, don’t you?” he asks. Then with a wink in my direction, he turns toward the pool and dives headfirst into it. When he pops back up, I laugh.
“You’re out of your mind,” I say.
“Aye. But we only have a few more days together, Shelby, so take your clothes off. Let’s go swimming.”
Smiling down at him. I do as he says, not hiding the fact that I am still sporting a pretty hard erection.
But I don’t want to hide it from him anymore.
I want him to see it, even if he never touches it, even if we never go through with his little offer.
I want him to see this, because this is me.
I’m attracted to him, and I might be for the rest of my life.
And for the first time, I realize I’m okay with that.