Oakley
“You think any more about it?” I ask Travis as he lugs bags of soil out of the back of the company truck.
“No,” he answers, and I roll my eyes at him because I know he has.
Hell, I haven’t stopped thinking about it since I proposed we hook up last week. I think I had a really good idea. I mean, it’s pretty much perfect.
I really am tired of the random hookups. Even with the girls from high school who are just waiting around for me to settle down. It’s like they think one day, I’m just going to wake up and want a commitment.
It’s not that I don’t want that someday, but I’m young.
I just want to work, hang out with friends, and occasionally get off without hurting anyone’s feelings.
I hate feeling like I used someone. Even if we both go into it supposedly knowing the score, I still feel their little flicker of hope that maybe I’ll call again and want to take them out on a date.
And I feel like shit for not wanting to do that.
Not once.
I don’t know, maybe I’m broken or something. My parents are happily married. They’re almost gross with how much they love each other. They married young, and it worked for them, but I have no desire to be the same.
Maybe when I’m thirty or something.
So that’s why this is so damn perfect. Travis isn’t going to go all gaga over me all of a sudden. And I already like hanging out with him. He’s friends with my friends. There’d be no nagging. No wanting me to go out on fancy dates and meet his parents.
It would be just adding sex to what we already have.
It’s. Perfect.
“Stop staring at me like that.” He eyes me warily, tossing a bag of soil into the storage shed back at the main office.
“Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about it.”
“Drop it, Oakley,” he says in annoyance.
But I don’t drop it. We finish unloading the truck and then park it back in its designated spot, done for the day. It’s starting to get colder out, and soon our days will be mostly pulling leaves from gutters and preparing outdoor plants for frost.
We walk to our vehicles, and I still can’t stop thinking about it. What his hands would feel like. What his mouth would feel like on mine . . . and other places.
Those damn lips.
“Oakley.” My thoughts are halted as I look over at Travis, who’s staring at me knowingly, but I have no shame whatsoever. “Stop thinking about it.”
I grin, a slow smile spreading over my lips. “Not a chance. It’s in my head now.”
He looks around the parking lot that’s pretty empty since we were the last crew in this evening. Then he walks over to me, where I’m standing by the driver’s side of my truck. “I have a dick.”
A startled laugh erupts from me because, for whatever reason, that was not at all what I was expecting him to say.
“I’m aware of that.” I lean in a little closer to him, breathing in the smell of sweat and dirt, mixed with a hint of cologne that’s not at all unpleasant.
“I even felt it pressed against me the other day in bed.”
He pulls back slightly, looking into my eyes with confusion swimming in his. “That should probably bother you. Considering you’ve always been more of a . . .”
“Vagina guy?” I finish for him, and he shifts uncomfortably, clearly not liking how I worded that. But I mean, technically I’ve only been with women with vaginas at this point. So I’m not wrong.
“Yes. It’s different. I’m a guy. I’m not going to be with some bigass jock type who wants to pretend I’m female. Telling himself it’s fine as he closes his eyes.”
I frown at that. “Why the hell would I do that?” I stare at him, seeing he’s totally serious.
“Has someone done that to you before?” Rage suddenly roars through me at that thought.
No one deserves to be used like that, and I’d never do that.
I don’t want him to be female. I know, without a doubt, he’s a man.
That’s how he identifies, so that’s what he is and how I see him. A gay man.
What I identify as? I have no idea. Labels aren’t really that important to me, and I haven’t spent time stressing about it.
He shakes his head, clearly frustrated as he takes a step back away from me. “No. But it happens. And I’m not interested in that. Not at all.”
“Good,” I say honestly. “I wouldn’t want you to be. I know you’re a guy with a dick. One I’m actually hoping to get well acquainted with.”
He stares at me and stares some more. “Are you seriously that horny?”
The answer to that is no. I know I could go and get laid anytime I want. But this just seems too damn perfect. And it’s becoming sort of an obsession. I want this experience with Travis, whether I totally understand why I want it or not. Doesn’t matter to me. I just know I want it.
I’m attracted to Travis. The person. And I’m not wasting any time thinking about why that is. Maybe that makes me too simple, but I’ve always been simple. People worry too damn much about everything.
If something feels right, I just go with it.
And for whatever reason, this feels right.
“Just think about it, okay? I’m hot. You’re hot. We could be hot together.”
“But why?” he asks quietly.
See, that’s the problem with Travis. He’s an overthinker. A worrier by nature.
“Because I want to. Don’t you ever just go for what you want, Trav?”
He looks into my eyes, the sun starting to set behind him, his pretty lips parted just slightly. “Come by later.”
I grin at that, but he’s already turned and is walking toward his car. I jump into my truck, an excited feeling passing through me.
He’s going to give this a chance.
And I’m going to show him it’s not wrong to go after what you want when you want it.