12. THE THINGS YOU FORGOT
THE THINGS YOU FORGOT
It’s been five days since I’ve seen Kenneth.
He’s been staying with his mom now that she’s out of the hospital, and the way I miss him is concerning.
I don’t think I’ve ever missed anyone this much in my entire life, and it’s only been five days.
It’s bordering on pathetic. It makes me feel concerned for myself, even.
Because what do you mean I haven’t seen my not-boyfriend for only five days and I’m acting like it’s been years?
Maybe I need an intervention. Should I be calling Emerson for this?
Something tells me he’d be supportive of these feelings, though.
And that’s not what I need. I need to snap out of whatever this is. Pronto.
I think what’s driving me crazy is that I have no idea when I’ll see him again.
We’ve kept in contact, texting all day long and calling each other at night before bed, but today he has been a little quieter than usual.
It makes me wonder if something is wrong again.
I really hope not. Kenneth’s mom is not exactly better and went home on hospice.
I’m glad that she got to go home where he can spend time with her.
She’s going to have a nurse around the clock, thankfully, so even if Kenneth isn’t with her, she’ll have help at all times.
I really want to meet her and help him out as well, but it has to come from him.
I’m not going to pressure him into introducing me to his only family member.
That might be a bigger step than he’s ready for. I have to accept that and respect it.
I’ve been determined to give him space, waiting for him to seek me out first, keeping my text messages to a minimum unless he initiates, and only calling when he says it’s okay.
It’s definitely been harder than I thought, but he is keeping in contact with me.
He’s kept his promise and hasn’t ghosted me again.
I’m thankful for it because I promised myself that if he did it again, I wouldn’t talk to him anymore.
I have to have a modicum of self-respect.
It’s hard, though. All I want to do is be close to him, and it’s driving me crazy not to be able to do it right now.
Despite my wanting to wait around forever, though, I force myself to get up and get dressed.
It’s the Stanley Cup final, and I need to get out of this penthouse before I drive myself crazy.
There’s only so much longing and yearning I can do from afar before I go nuts.
So I decide to go watch the game at the sports bar across the street, put my clothes on, and go in search of my shoes back in the living room.
Right as I sit down to put them on, the craziest thing happens.
My elevator dings. And Kenneth comes inside.
My heart speeds up in my chest, and it feels like it’s trying to escape my ribcage, trying to reach him, because there’s only one person it belongs to.
I look at him with wide eyes as he stands about ten feet away from me, and he looks back at me.
His lips are parted, blue eyes dark, blond hair disheveled.
His chest is heaving, hands balled into tight fists, clenching and unclenching every few seconds.
“Ken?” I question, voice small and confused. What’s wrong with him? “Are you okay?”
“I need you.” His voice trembles, and he takes a step forward. “I need to feel something, please. I n-need you.”
My wide eyes widen impossibly more, but before I can reply, he starts stripping out of his clothes in a rush.
He’s uncoordinated as he sheds his shirt and shoes, and when he hooks his thumbs into his sweatpants and begins pulling them down his thighs, I stand and start stripping too.
Before long, we’re both naked, staring at each other, chests heaving.
“What happened?” I ask him.
“Life’s hard.” Kenneth swallows hard. “I need to feel something else, Conrad. Make me feel.”
My heart beats out of rhythm as his gaze lowers from my face down the rest of my body, his eyes stopping on my cock.
His eyes snap up to mine a second later, and he licks his lips.
His eyes are desperate, and there’s a yearning in my chest that’s threatening to take me out.
The longing I feel for this man is unexplainable; there’s no rhyme or reason for it.
I can’t figure out why I feel this strongly for him.
But I’ve realized I don’t really want to figure it out.
I just want to feel it. I’m done questioning it.
I sit on the couch and extend my hand, and Kenneth stares at it for a long moment before he walks toward me.
He’s visibly shaking but trying to hide it, and I wonder why he’s so upset.
He climbs onto my lap, lacing our fingers together, and lowers his body to mine.
And then he lets go, wrapping his arms around my neck and getting as close as he can instead.
His strong thighs hug my waist, and somehow this moment feels like more.
Just more. It feels like everything that’s been missing from my life.
I close my eyes and press my nose to his hair, inhaling the tropical scent of him, and whimper.
His arms hold me tighter, body pressing impossibly closer, and he buries his face in the crook of my neck.
I take a deep breath and try to get my shit together. “Ken, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” His voice still trembles. “Everything. I don’t even know, Conrad.
I’m tired of fighting this—us. I want you so bad, baby.
I want you, and it feels big and scary, and I don’t understand why.
I can’t explain it. I feel like you’re mine.
Like I’ve known you my whole life. Like we were meant to be.
But that’s crazy, right? Y-yeah, that sounds batshit crazy.
Absolutely insane. I-I’ll go. I’m s-sorry. Forget I said anything—”
“Hey, hey—” I say soothingly, holding him tighter to me. “It’s okay. It’s okay. It makes sense to me.”
Did he see me in a dream? Does he know it’s something more? Am I crazy for thinking that? I don’t want to hope.
“It does?” he whispers. “How?”
“Because my soul remembers yours, Kenny,” I whisper back, hoping that doesn’t freak him out. “Is that how you feel, too?”
“I-I—” Ken stammers. “I think so. I don’t know what I feel, Conrad. I swear I dreamed of you the other night, but it felt more like a memory, and I don’t know, that didn’t make sense. Because it’s not real, but it felt real. I-I don’t know what I’m saying.”
I have two options.
I can tell him it’s real. That I’ve seen him in my dreams constantly since before I even met him.
That none of this has made sense, but it doesn’t matter because all I care about is him.
That I somehow love him already, even though I barely know him, and that the thought doesn’t even freak me out.
The only problem with this option is that it will freak him out.
Or…
I can tell him I get it, but not reveal the rest of the truth. I can tell him I feel it too without freaking him out. And since I’m a coward—
“I feel it too, baby,” I tell him softly, and he pulls away to look into my eyes. “I understand what you’re saying. I feel it too.”
Kenneth smiles, and then he buries his face in my neck again. “You do?” he asks, lips against my skin.
“I get you,” I reply, shivering as his lips continue to whisper across my skin.
Kenneth hums, and I can feel his breath on my skin, warm and comforting.
His lips skim my pulse point slowly as I tremble beneath him.
He presses them against my neck, kissing softly, and I shudder.
He takes that as an invitation because in the next breath, he bites and then licks over it, soothing the sting.
My cock hardens painfully, and I feel it pressing under his balls.
“Conrad,” Kenneth whispers, licking my neck now. “I need you inside me.”
I groan. “F-fuck,” I gasp when he rubs his hole over my cock, grinding down on it. “You’re so—”
“So what?” he purrs, doing it again. “Perfect?”
“Y-yes,” I whimper, reaching for the lube I know is stuck in the couch cushions from last time we did stuff right here. My balls throb at the thought of fucking him again.
Kenneth lifts his hips and grabs my cock, wrapping his hand around both of us and squeezing. He doesn’t stroke, just holds, and my eyes roll to the back of my head at the sensation.
“I want you,” Kenneth says against the shell of my ear, then bites the lobe. “Fuck me, baby.” I shiver as his tongue licks against my ear, and lift my hips ever so slightly. I’m hinting at him to move, but he doesn’t. “Please.”
“Ride me,” I breathe. “Just like this. Ride me slowly and kiss me.”
Kenneth’s hand tightens around us, and I hiss.
He strokes us slowly, staring into my eyes as he rubs his thumb right under the head of my cock, making my face pinch with pleasure.
His eyes light up at my little moan, and I exhale roughly when he starts stroking faster.
I grab the lube bottle and uncap it, the sound loud and echoing.
There’s something so fucking satisfying about the way I can see all of Kenneth’s emotions in his eyes.
He wants this badly. Maybe as badly as I do.
“Are you going to prep me?” Kenneth asks as he slows down his hand’s movements, and I slather lube over two of my fingers.
I nod, and Ken lifts his hips again so I can reach under him.
My fingers rub around his rim, and I gently push one of them inside.
He’s hot to the touch, silky smooth, and gripping me tightly as I add a second finger, thrusting it in all the way to the hilt.
He moans softly, biting his bottom lip as he grips my shoulders and bounces on them once.
I curl my fingers, and his eyes widen. “F-fuck,” he groans. “Get in me, Conrad.”