Chapter 13 #2
He pauses before the Millennium Falcon, hands in his pockets. “This is Star Wars, right?”
I nod.
“You made this?”
“Well, I assembled it, yeah.”
“Cool.”
My face flushes and I look away.
“Your dad’s a dick, by the way.”
Elias still wears that casual expression while I’m sure my face is frozen in a state of shock. No one has ever said a bad word about my father, at least, not in my presence.
“Sorry, but it’s true.”
He takes a seat on my bed, pulling his hands out of his pockets and studying me.
“You shouldn’t let what he says get to you. He doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”
“My dad is very successful, he—”
“So what? Is he successful at what you want to do?”
“No, but—”
“So he doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”
I sigh, crossing the room and taking a seat next to him on the bed, my hands clasped between my knees.
I hear him sigh before he speaks. “I’m sorry if me being here has caused any trouble….”
How can he think that? “It hasn’t. I’m glad you’re here.”
“Yeah?”
I feel a genuine smile ghost my lips. “Yeah. No one’s ever stood up for me at the dinner table like that before.”
He frowns. “Not even your siblings?”
“No.” I shake my head.
“I didn’t stand up for you, anyway. I just reminded him of something I’d be proud of if I were your father.”
I hang my head, watching my thumb methodically stroke circles around the other hand. “It’s not number one though, is it?”
Elias scoffs. “I know the feeling.”
My head shoots up.
“My brother plays Premier League football. Yes … football.”
“What’s Premier League?”
“It’s like the NFL, but better.”
“Better than the NFL?” I ask skeptically.
“Yes. He plays in England, for a team that have won the Champion’s League—that’s like the Superbowl—multiple times. Including this last year.”
“Wow.”
“Yes, exactly.”
I never thought Elias was capable of looking as vulnerable as he does at this moment. When I look more closely at him, I realize that perpetual sandy scruff on his chin has been shaved off. Did he do that for my parents? Because I told him he had to dress up for dinner? God, I’m so stupid.
“Elias?”
“Yes?”
“You must know that you’re incredibly impressive, right?”
He barks a laugh before running a hand over his smooth face.
“I don’t know. I used to think so.”
I put my hand on his shoulder without thinking.
As friendly and gregarious as Elias may seem on the surface, there’s something untouchable about him.
And that initial contact is like breaking through an invisible barrier you didn’t know was there until you breached it.
He looks down at my hand and I tell myself to move it.
Except I’m stunned by the way his brown eyes sparkle under the light.
The artful way his hair falls over his forehead.
And the slightest parting of his lips, exposing a row of straight, white teeth.
His gaze flicks up to meet mine and before I understand what’s happening, he’s leaning in, eyes darting over my face before focusing their attention firmly on my lips.
Oh god, is he going to kiss me?
He pauses a fraction in front of my face, waiting for my reaction and I let go, breaching the gap.
I sigh into his mouth the second our lips connect and am surprised to feel him do the same. My whole body ignites as he presses his fingers against the side of my neck and pulls me deeper into the kiss.
This is really happening. I’m kissing a man. And it feels so … good. So … right.
Relief mingles with pleasure and it all gets too much.
I pull away on a gasp.
It takes a second or two for Elias to drop his hand from my neck. His eyes dart over my face.
“Sorry,” I say.
“Why? I kissed you.”
“I know, but—”
“You didn’t like it?”
“No, I….” God, did I like it!
“So …” He shrugs with one shoulder. “What’s the problem?”
“The problem is … well….” I rub my neck, pressing against the spot where Elias’ fingers had been holding me in place while he kissed me.
“I’ve never kissed anyone before.”
He raises one eyebrow. God, even that has a fire igniting in the pit of my stomach. Why does he have to be so sexy?
Before he can say anything, I jump in, stumbling over my words. “I mean, not anyone … Well, I’ve kissed a girl, or two, maybe three….”
“You’ve never kissed a man.”
“Right.”
“How long have you known that you’re gay?”
“Years.”
“Why did you keep kissing girls if you know you’re gay?”
He makes everything sound so simple.
“Not everyone has the guts to just go out there and grab what they want without asking questions.” My tone is more defensive than I’d intended.
“I’m not trying to insult you,” he says. “I’m just trying to understand.”
I lean back with a sigh, glancing up at the vintage map above my bed. How is this sexy man in my bedroom, willing to kiss me and listen to me talk?
“I guess I’m just shy. And no one ever came onto me. Girls did, sometimes. And I’m bad at saying no.”
“Is that why you kissed me back?”
“Huh? Oh, no, definitely not.”
His lips quirk up on one side. “I’m the first man you’ve ever kissed.”
I nod, bite my lip.
“You’re so cute.”
My heart sinks. “I don’t want to be cute. I want to be sexy.”
What am I saying? Out loud.
“Why can’t you be both?” Elias shrugs. He does that thing where he stares at me again. My face heats up. I’m telling myself to look away and finding that I can’t. I don’t want to.
When he leans closer again, I keep my eyes open long enough to greedily take in the freckles lining the top of his nose. The little mole beside his mouth. The arched shape of his eyebrows and the few stray hairs between them.
He kisses me again. Slow at first. Gently, yet insistently prying my mouth open with his tongue. The second I let him in, the restraint loosens. The kiss deepens and he groans into my open mouth.
I’m so hard it’s embarrassing. I hope he doesn’t notice. But there’s a part of me that doesn’t care. That must be the part that has one hand tangled in his hair and the other stroking his chest through his shirt.
Elias follows my lead, taking it one step further and unbuttoning my shirt before pulling away and looking down at me. He’s panting, lips parted and swollen from all the rough kissing. I wonder how good it would feel if he hadn’t shaved. His stubble brushing against my skin.
He dives back in, licking a stripe up my neck. I make an embarrassingly unrestrained noise—something between a whine and a moan. Elias seems to like it because he climbs between my legs and grinds against me.
Holy crap, is he hard, too? For me?
He keeps rutting against me, slow, but persistent. His mouth brushing against mine before kissing and licking my neck. My eyes roll back and my toes curl.
Oh crap, no, please …
It’s too late. By the time I manage to tear myself away, my underwear is sticky and the realization that I just came in my pants washes over me.
I lay still, trying to catch my breath. Elias has gone completely still on top of me.
Oh God, oh God, oh God.
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.”
The second Elias moves, I press my weight against him and he rolls off.
His voice follows me as I rush to the bathroom, trying to call me back, but I’m determined to hide until the humiliation of what just happened disappears, I may be hiding in this bathroom forever.