33. Chapter 33 #2
He pulled Ody’s boxers down and took him into his mouth. Ody’s hand dug into the couch cushion as a deep sound tore from his chest. His head fell back, eyes half closing as the heat of Kash’s mouth made his thoughts scatter like broken glass.
Hah… Mano…
The thought hit him hard, uninvited.
Kash quickened his rhythm.
Ody’s breaths turned, heavy, desperate. “Ahh… Hah…” The pleasure climbed fast. Images surged through him. Mano’s tattoos. His eyes, dark and tense. The weight of his body pinning him to the door. That voice asking for the truth, close enough to burn.
The pressure burst. Ody came with a sharp gasp, his whole body tightening as the release shuddered through him. He clutched the couch, breathing hard.
Kash pulled back and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, a crooked little smirk tugging at his lips. “I don’t even need to ask if you liked that.”
Ody tried to steady his breathing. “I need a shower. Again.”
“Wanna go together?” Kash teased.
Ody snapped his head toward him. “Turn around.”
“You’re kidding me.” Kash blinked at him.
“I said turn around.”
“Dude, I just sucked your dick. You’re shy now?”
“Stop.” Ody’s tone was sharper than he meant.
Kash paused, the teasing falling away. His eyes dropped, voice suddenly small. “You regret it, don’t you?”
Ody kept staring at the floor, throat tight, unable to answer.
Kash let out a breathy, humorless laugh. “Of course you do. You were too horny to think straight.” He pushed himself up from the couch. “Forget it. I’m leaving.”
“Wait. Are you mad?” Ody asked, unease slipping into his voice.
“Of course not,” he said. “You let me do that to you. I just don’t see a reason to stay. We’re done here, right?”
The words hit Ody like a quiet punch. He dropped his gaze. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize,” Kash murmured. He even managed a small, understanding smile. “I’ll see you when you get back from Serifos.” He turned and headed for the door.
“Kash.”
He stilled, his hand resting on the handle.
“Don’t expect too much from me,” Ody said, guilt settling under every word, like he already knew he shouldn’t have let any of this happen.
“Have a good trip,” Kash said. “I hope it helps clear your head.”
Then he left and the apartment fell silent.
Ody went straight to the shower. Warm water soaked his hair, ran down his face and chest, but none of it eased the guilt twisting tight inside him. He shut his eyes, pressed his palms to his forehead, and tried to breathe.
He tried not to think of Mano. He tried not to think of Kash. He failed. He kept remembering the way his own body reacted, desperate and confused, to two people who were not the person he had promised himself to.
He dried off, dressed in silence, then packed the last of his things with unsteady hands. Every time he zipped a bag, the guilt tightened.
By the time he picked up his phone to text Anna, his throat felt tight. She deserved honesty. Loyalty. Someone who didn’t fall apart the second someone else touched him.
But that wasn’t who Ody was tonight.
He stared at her name on the screen, thumb hovering.
His stomach turned. He typed, deleted, typed again.
Nothing felt right. Nothing felt like something a good boyfriend would say.
Because the truth was, he didn’t feel like one.
Not after Mano and Kash. Not after the way his own heart had reacted to something he still wasn’t ready to admit.
He sent a short message. The safest lie he could manage. Then set the phone face down before he could see her reply. He sat on the edge of the bed, head in his hands. And for the first time that night, he felt it. What he had done.
His phone buzzed.
Mano: Talked to Ranya. What time are we leaving tomorrow?
The message hit him like a punch. His stomach dropped, his throat tightened. A wave of guilt washed over him, stronger than before. Guilt for what he had done with Kash. And worse, the shame of who he had been thinking about while doing it.
His fingers shook as he typed. Around 9:30
Mano: Got it
Ody locked his phone and set it aside, staring at the wall like that could stop what he felt. It didn’t. Nothing did. Eventually, exhaustion dragged him into a restless half-sleep that felt more like floating than resting.
By sunrise, he was awake again, numb and heavy. He got dressed, zipped up his suitcase, and drove toward Anna’s house, trying to steady the guilt that kept rising in his throat.
“Hey there, sweetheart, good morning,” Anna’s mother greeted him warmly when he stepped inside.
Ody forced a smile. “Good morning.”
The warmth in her voice hit him like a punch. He didn’t deserve it. He shouldn’t even be standing here.
Anna rushed around the bedroom gathering the last of her things while her mother hovered proudly in the hallway, fussing over details like she always did.
“What time does the ferry leave?” she asked.
“In two hours,” Ody replied, his voice steady even though his stomach twisted.
“You have everything? Tickets, money, IDs?”
Her father stepped out, smiling. “Good morning, son.”
“Good morning, Mr. Filippos,” Ody said politely.
The word son hit harder than anything else. He looked at them and felt sick. These were the people who trusted him with their daughter. Who welcomed him into their home, who believed he loved her the right way.
“Hurry up, Anna,” her father called.
“Coming!” she shouted from her room.