14. Ari #2
“We could drop this and go back to pretending that nothing ever happened and nothing ever will,” I say flatly, because that’s the option Will clearly thinks is our only choice.
I’ll acknowledge it as a choice, but he can tell by my tone of voice that I don’t believe we could ever move on from this now.
“Or we can set some ground rules and test the waters to see if this is something we both really want. Unless I missed something, you don’t have experience with men to know where you fit on the sexuality spectrum, and you’re clearly at least curious. ”
Will’s head tilts to both sides, acknowledging that the statement isn’t incorrect, but he still seems unsure. “What kind of ground rules?”
I shrug. “We talk about what we’re comfortable with and what we’re not. Maybe you felt more open and free to explore in the club environment, so we could agree to keep that part of our exploration in those certain spaces. And I know you like making rules?—”
“If we did that, there shouldn’t be any rules unless you made them.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“In the past, I’ve been too controlling of your interactions with other people. I got in your way and caused you to be unhappy. I don’t want to do that to you.”
I lift an eyebrow. “Who are you and where is my grouchy, overprotective big brother, Will Kessler?”
“I don’t think you should call me that.”
My lips quirk. “You didn’t seem to mind it earlier…”
He covers his face and groans. “This is so wrong.”
A giggle escapes me. I can’t help it. That we’re having this conversation at all is bonkers. Not only that, but am I actually driving this train wreck? He’s never let me be in control of anything before, not really.
“Okay. So, maybe if we were going to do this, don’t just steamroll me into your comfort zone. There needs to be some communication and compromise.”
“What kind of compromise? I know I used to be cool with other guys being there when I was calling the shots, but I don’t know if I can go back to that.”
My eyes narrow. “Do you think I’d just go around and fuck everyone I want, right in front of you?” I wouldn’t want that at all, but I need to know where his head is at.
Will looks uncomfortable but shakes his head. “I want to say that I’ll try not to control you or second guess your decisions. That I’ll leave if I don’t want to see whatever’s going down, but I can’t even bear the thought of someone else touching you.”
“If you’re going to touch me, I won’t need anyone else to, now will I?”
How does he not get that it was only ever him I wanted to be touched by, that I took it however I could get it?
I like being watched by him. And I liked it when those people were watching us tonight. But I don’t want to share. And I definitely have zero interest in watching him with anyone else.
“I’ll tell you where my comfort zone is. You can tell me if you don’t like something, and you can even boss me around, Will. Just don’t pretend your possessiveness is something you’re doing to protect me, and for the love of fuck, don’t punch anyone.”
Will’s lips twitch. “I’ll do my best.”
I stand up and move closer to him, crowding his space and looking up into his eyes.
“I never minded you treating me like I was yours. It was the denial afterwards that hurt,” I tell him.
“Don’t pretend you’re doing something for me if it’s something you want, too.
Keep every other man from touching me if you want, get all kinds of growly and possessive, fucking pee on my leg if you want to.
” I quirk a smile before lowering my tone to something more serious.
“But do it because you want me and let me know you do.”
Inches from my eyes, Will’s Adam’s apple bobs with a heavy swallow. “And what, um, what’s option three?”
Stepping a little closer, I see a flash of apprehension in his eyes before they flick down to look at my lips. My tongue peeks out briefly to wet my lips, and he imitates the movement. I lean in closer, my breath fanning over his lips…
“Option three is you bending me over this counter and fucking me right now. Let go of all this pretense and just fucking take me the way we both know you want me.”
Will’s eyes dilate, and for a moment I think he might actually do something, but he still hesitates. Focusing my attention on his mouth, I exhale across his lips, then drop a slow, chaste peck at the corner of his mouth.
“Option three is the only one that comes with a but .”
“And that is?”
“You can’t accept me fully and then turn around and change your mind.
If you choose option three, you’re mine and I’m yours and there’s no pretending there isn’t something between us,” I say.
“It’s your choice, Will. I know what I want.
As long as you’re open and communicate with me, I’m happy to follow your lead. No questions asked.”
I back away before I lose my resolve to let him be the one to take the next step. I know that I could easily seduce him into falling into bed with me right now, but I also know that seeing the regret in his eyes the next morning would kill me.
We walk toward the bedrooms together and stand outside the two doors for a few long, tense moments. Will’s fingers tentatively land on my bare shoulder, running them lightly down my back, leaving goosebumps in their wake.
“You were beautiful tonight,” he murmurs, and leans in to kiss my temple. “Goodnight, Ari.”
“Goodnight, Will.”
I sleep fitfully, but don’t have any nightmares. I just miss being next to him, curled up in his warmth.
I’m not sure what we’re doing, exactly. And I’m sure it’s probably a terrible idea. But to myself at least, I can admit that I’m willing to risk a lot to see where this goes. My dignity, for one. My comfort. My mental health.
The anticipation of getting what I’ve wanted for a long time is enough to put all that aside.
We don’t talk about it or make any decisions over the next week.
We are invited to another exclusive party at the same club, but neither of us makes the move to suggest we go.
It’s the night before a sold-out and over-packed show thanks to Jesse randomly deciding he wants to invite an entire football team, so not going doesn’t mean anything.
Outside of rehearsals, Will and I find a comfortable normalcy living in each other’s space again. He’s playful and almost even flirty, but never once acknowledges the conversation we had or what happened between us.
It’s not until we leave New York and our bubble pops that I realize his silence is his decision.
Whatever flirty side looks and easy banter we’ve cultivated in the confines of our condo evaporates.
As if leaving the city means he can no longer remember the way he gasped my name while watching me come, Will reverts to the almost over-polite version of himself that he’s been since this tour started.
He’s chosen option one, and I have to be okay with it.
So when Will laughs and flirts with a gorgeous new flight attendant, I don’t allow myself to get upset.
And when I find myself overthinking all the ways I’ll never compare to a blonde bombshell with a bright smile and easy laugh, legs for days, and important things like boobs and a wet pussy—I shut it down.
Because spiraling never made me better. Just smaller.
We agreed that putting it all behind us and focusing on our relationship as friends, bandmates, and brothers is more important. I don’t get to be hurt because there was no promise for more. And I won’t allow myself to shrink again because I’m afraid of not measuring up.
So I let it go.
And when we’re having dinner in the hotel bar in Dallas and I meet the very charming, and very famous actor Alonso Carter, I allow myself to use my newfound confidence to open up to someone new in a way I never have.
Alonso is charming in a way that feels practiced but not insincere.
He’s handsome, confident without coming off too cocky, and funny without trying too hard.
I’m surprised to find how grounded he is, and enjoy what feels like a real conversation rather than a performance or polite interview.
We talk about music and working in the entertainment industry, but we talk about things that matter too.
We talk about current events and our roles as public figures to do what’s right.
Too many people care more about their image than the impact they could actually have.
It’s refreshing to talk animatedly about the things we want to do to make a difference and not the things we want to do to show off how much money we can blow.
The whole thing feels easy and real. And I walk away from it with three things:
Alonso’s phone number.
A casual meetup planned for tomorrow night after the concert so we can get to know each other a little better.
And a huge smile on my face, because I did it.
I met someone in person and felt a connection, whether it’s friendship or otherwise, based on who I am as a person, not what I could do for them.
It’s not something that I could have done before the journey of self-healing and discovery that I’ve been on.
I’m proud of me.
I don’t even worry when I find Will watching me with a confused, and somewhat constipated, expression. I don’t think anything of it at all.