Chapter 12 Connor #4
“But if what you want is a woman you can see yourself marrying, then when you meet her, you’ll forget all about me.
So don’t worry about that. And I won’t blame you for it either.
How can I? I know what this is. I’ve been here before.
You’re not the first guy to say this shit to me, and you probably won’t be the last. I know you’ll never love me, because no one will.
I couldn’t even get my own mom to love me. ”
“Dane.” I reach my hand across the table again and take his hand. “She loves you. I know it doesn’t seem like it from where you’re standing, but—”
“If she loved me, she wouldn’t have left me with Artie. If she loved me, she wouldn’t have stayed away for a decade. There’s nothing stopping her from seeing me, calling me, or sending me a text. She just doesn’t want to.”
With a shuddered exhale, Dane pulls his hand from my loose grasp and buries it under the table.
The whites of his eyes tinge pink as he looks out toward the window.
When I glance in the same direction, all I see in the tinted glass is my own hazy reflection.
Looking back at the boy across from me, I wonder if he’s seeing the same.
“Dane—”
“And why should she? I was a terrible kid. Was always getting in trouble. Always getting yelled at, grounded, swatted, put in time-outs. I got kicked out of schools and kicked out of Cub Scouts. I was a fucking nightmare even before puberty. Why would any sane woman stick around for the hormone flood? First chance she got, she ran as far from me as possible, took the good kid with her, and never looked back.”
His sniffles and quivering chin fill me with sympathy that feels a hell of a lot like love. It hurts my stomach to think about loving a man, but it hurts my chest even more that I can’t say it out loud.
“Drink your water,” he tells me, picking up his own glass and bringing it to his lips. “Nothing more dangerous than a thirsty bisexual.”
The whirlwind buzzing through me distracts me too much to laugh, even though I’m pretty sure that’s a joke. I’m not bisexual. Not in the technical way, I don’t think. I’m not into women and men, I’m into women and Dane.
“Dane…” My voice comes out small and uncertain. “I’m sure you weren’t a nightmare. I’m sure there were other reasons—”
“You’re sure of a lot of things you don’t know anything about. You weren’t there. If you had been there, you’d understand. Thalia’s right about me. Whatever she tells you, it’s all true.”
“I don’t care what she tells me.”
“You should.” Eyes red and watery now, Dane sucks up a breath through his nose and rakes back his bangs, revealing a shiny forehead and an inch-long scar.
“I’m sorry things are difficult for you now.
I’m sorry I had to go and complicate your life so much.
I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with me. ”
A clear bead drips from Dane’s wet lashes. Before it can stream all the way to his chin, I scoot out from my side of the booth and shove myself into Dane’s. As soon as we’re thigh to thigh, I hug him around the shoulders and put my cheek to his wet one.
“You don’t make things difficult. You’re the best thing about this place. I would be so fucking lonely without you.”
“You’d have Margot and her gay friends.”
“I don’t want her gay friends. I want mine. I want you.”
So close like this, I hear the spit rolling in Dane’s mouth and the contraction of his throat when he swallows it all down. Hugging him like this has a way of stopping time. I’m not sure how long I spend basking in his embrace before the voice of our server reminds me we’re in public.
“Sorry to interrupt,” she says sweetly, setting two plates of burgers and fries on this side of the table.
Dislodging myself from Dane’s arms, I put a few inches between us and clear my throat to tell the woman thanks.
With a motherly look and a finger pointed at Dane, she says, “You are too handsome to be so sad. But it’s a good thing you’ve got a great friend here.” She lowers that pointing hand onto my shoulder and gives it a soft squeeze. “Let me know if you boys need anything else.”
She walks off, and I put my eyes back on Dane while he straightens up and swipes at his face.
“Hey, you okay?” I still have an arm around him. I pull it back enough to rub my palm up and down his spine.
“I’m okay,” he mumbles. “Just hungry. Eat your food.”
Yes, Mom, I almost say, but it seems a distasteful joke at this point in time.
We both dig in, and with no one seated across from us, my eyes wander around the dining hall.
A smattering of other parties occupy tables throughout the joint, but it’s not busy.
It’s nearly eleven. Dane has a match in the morning—his last match of the season, unless his team pulls off a win.
He ought to be in bed, getting a good night’s rest before an early alarm, but here we are.
As soon as I swallow my current bite, I ask Dane if he really thinks I’m bisexual.
He scoffs and side-eyes me, answering with a full mouth, “The sooner you accept it, the sooner you can stop acting like it’s the end of the world to wanna suck dick. It’s not that bad, you know, if the dude showers. You can’t always trust that a dude showers, so be careful about that.”
My reflex is to protest, but what’s the point in lying now? I’m not jonesing for a face-fucking, but I’ve thought about what it would be like to put my mouth places it’s never been before. Watching Dane lick beef juice off his lips, I think about another place I could put my mouth.
“I don’t think it’s the end of the world. I just wish I could control it better.”
“You know I don’t mind it, right?” Dane says, looking back at me. “When you can’t control it.”
“I feel guilty.”
“You don’t have to. Not with me.”
But there’s another person to consider. Someone I’ve made promises and commitments to.
Someone I’m not sure I’m strong enough to let go of yet.
But right here and right now, the only person on my mind is sitting right beside me, staring at me, and lifting his hand to brush my jaw.
His thumb sweeps over my chin and back across my bottom lip.
I lift my hand and touch whichever part of Dane’s body my fingers find first—his elbow, hard and slightly coarse, but his skin turns smooth as butter beneath his shirtsleeve.
His breath is warm against my face.
His lips are soft against mine.
My eyes fade shut as my mind floats away to that special place that only exists when the space between us shrinks to nothing.
Weightless, I hold on to Dane’s bicep and lean into his breath and his soft, soft lips.
Precious, dreamy kisses with small smacking sounds that meld with my heartbeat and each quiet hum from Dane’s throat.
They fill the empty well in my soul with a hypnotic tune.
When my lips part wide enough, Dane’s savory tongue slips between them.
The velvety texture and the taste of his saliva go to my head. Both of them. My cock swells quickly with each slow lick we trade. A drop of drool rolls down the corner of my mouth, coaxing my eyes open. What I see are Dane’s closed eyelids and curly black lashes, as peaceful as if he were napping.
I tip my chin down and wipe the drool from under my mouth.
“Was that okay?” Dane murmurs against my forehead.
Okay has never been a more ill-fitting descriptor. Incredible is more like it, but I’m way too chicken-shit to tell him that.
“You taste like cheeseburger,” I say instead.
“So do you.” His breathy chuckle is more sweet music to my ears. I follow the sound and kiss him again.