Chapter 12
Roo
It’s official: my dick hates me. Though, to be fair, I hate the traitorous little fucker right back. Last night was a total bust. Between how gross I felt dancing with that guy when all I could picture was Tanner behind me, and then yet another dissatisfying jerk-off session, I’m getting desperate.
The drive home was painful. Then trying to fall asleep, acutely aware of Tanner lying there awake, was nearly impossible.
My dick has decided only one man will do. And it’s currently straining in his direction.
“Morning,” Tanner mutters. He’s frowning at his phone, and the fact that he’s still in bed indicates it really must be morning. Grumbling, I fish my phone from the side table and glare at the offensive number.
“Eight o’clock?” My voice pitches higher. “Why are we awake?”
Tanner laughs as I bury my face into the pillows, squashing my erection beneath me.
“I haven’t really been asleep,” he says.
“Urg. Why?” I quickly push up onto my elbows so I can see him properly. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah. I guess.”
“Well, I’m convinced.” Tanner’s not wearing a shirt, and it’s taking a whole lot of effort not to stare at his chest. “Seriously, what’s up?”
“Been thinking.”
“About?”
“Last night.”
Oh, dear God, sure, don’t give me details or anything. The memory of his thick cock pressed up against me kept dipping in and out of my dreams all night. “And?”
“And … I dunno.”
I stare at him blankly. “You don’t know. You’ve been thinking … and you don’t know what about.”
“Correct.” He still hasn’t looked away from his phone, but his frown has deepened and his jaw is getting tighter by the second. His lips start to twitch a little, and it’s then I realize what’s going on.
“I don’t care if you read out loud.”
He huffs and runs a hand over his head. “None of it makes sense.”
“What are you trying to read?” I reach for his phone, but he jerks it away from me.
Okay … “If it’s personal, just say so. You don’t need to be all jittery.”
“It’s not that. I’m a bit embarrassed, okay?”
“About …?”
He sighs and hands over his phone.
I almost wish he hadn’t, because reading the words on the screen sends my heart into overdrive.
How to tell if you’re bi.
Nope, I really, really shouldn’t have read that. I lock his screen and set the phone down next to mine, buying myself time to get this sudden excitement under control. Swallowing tightly, I pat the pillow next to mine, and he sinks down into it, rolling to his side to face me.
He eyes me warily, the whites of his eyes tinged red and a chunk of short hair flicked up from his cowlick.
I want to smooth it down. I want to kiss away the lines between his eyebrows. I don’t.
“You’re not going to find an answer to that question online.”
His stare dips to the mattress. “I’m so confused.”
“I know that feeling. In sophomore year I googled almost the exact same question.”
“Really?”
“Yep. And … I think if you’re asking the question, you already have good reason to be.”
“So I’m bi.” He cringes.
Pain trickles through me at his clear disappointment. “Maybe. Time for more of That’s So Queer. You could be bi. You could also be curious. Now that you know I’m gay, you might just be wondering what all the fuss is about.”
He grunts.
“You could be pan, or heteroflexible, or you might be straight and just appreciate looking at men.” I duck my face until he meets my eyes. “That’s why the answer won’t be online.”
“Then how the hell do I know?” Frustration bleeds from his voice.
“You be honest with yourself. I tried to pretend for a long time that I was straight because I thought it would be easier. It wasn’t.
” I brush two fingers over his sternum and walk them up to hover over the left side of his chest. I draw a heart.
“Your answers are here …” I walk my fingers down his torso, until they’re over his belly button.
“And one other very prominent place.” I brush my finger over the hair running down to his briefs, and he quickly snatches up my hand.
“Okay, yep. I get your point.” His face flushes so red, it makes me smile.
I link our fingers together. “Whatever you work out, I’m here.”
His answering smile is soft, and some of the color ebbs from his cheeks. “I know.”
“And whatever you land on is okay.”
He nods, but I can tell there’s more going on in his head than he’s saying.
“There’s no hurry to figure it out.”
A large yawn overtakes him, and he nods again.
“So let’s hit pause. You need sleep. You looked wrecked.”
“Thanks,” he says dryly, then narrows his eyes. “This wouldn’t be your way of trying to go back to sleep yourself, would it?”
“Definitely not.” I draw a cross over my heart. “I’ll even get up and clean the apartment while you nap.”
“I’ll believe that when I see it.” He snorts, but his eyes fall closed.
And I lie there watching him until his breathing evens out and his quiet snores start to fill the room.
Wanting nothing more than to curl up against him and fall asleep myself, I force myself out of bed. He’s working at the bar tonight, so I figure I’ll clean up and attempt to cook dinner that he can take with him, and that way we can spend the afternoon together. Doing … Well, anything.
Anything that doesn’t involve me obsessing over the fact that Tanner is questioning. That, after all these years, there might be the smallest glimmer of hope for me yet.
Because while I’d always hoped there might be something more between us, I’d never actually believed it.
And now Tanner … well, he’s making me question too.