26. Brad
26
brAD
“ D ylan? Are you alright?” I asked as we stepped into the hotel room.
Had I caused this? Was it what happened between us on the Ferris wheel? Everything had seemed to be okay until then. The damage might have already been done by the time I kissed him.
Or was I being a self centered asshole to think that?
“Hm?” Dylan looked at me, bleary-eyed, like he was barely registering I was there.
I frowned and took a seat on the bed. Something was up. Guilt bubbled in my stomach, wanting him to say something. “Come here. Talk to me, yeah?” I patted the bed, smiling a little, trying my best to be disarming.
We’d been friends for so long that I hated the thought that he didn’t know how to just tell me. I hoped that wasn’t the case — I hoped he’d be able to figure out the words to whatever he was feeling.
He walked over and sat down on the bed, still staring off somewhere else, like his mind was still catching up. “Do you ever just…feel like a total fraud?” he asked, his raspy voice quiet.
Blinking, I tilted my head. “I…don’t know what you mean?” Maybe. Everyone went through a phase of feeling like we weren’t as good as other people, right? Feeling like we had no place on a certain team or group of friends. It wasn’t worth dwelling on, in my opinion, but it did happen.
“It’s weird, I guess. Sometimes I just…get this feeling like I’m looking in on everyone from far away and I become almost… too aware of things. Like I suddenly feel…so aware of like…the way people see me. You, them…everyone. Just this…weird guy who’s fun to laugh at, right? Someone no one takes seriously. Maybe that isn’t fair…but it’s what my head says sometimes, you know?” He shrugged, like he was embarrassed about saying it.
My resolve crumbled. “Dylan…I’m sorry…I don’t want to make you feel that way.”
He looked at me for the first time since the Ferris wheel. There was that undefinable look in his eyes again. “Brad…I don’t think our agreement was a good idea.”
There it was.
He didn’t just come out and say that I was the problem, he didn’t say that I was the one who made him feel this way. Why else would he say that at the end? Why would he think that this arrangement was the problem? What the hell did it even mean?
“I-…” I took a deep breath. “Dylan. Talk to me, man. I understand how you’re feeling…I mean, as much as I can. I’m not sure what that has to do with this. Did I do something wrong?” As soon as I asked, however, I wanted to kick myself. Of course I did. I already knew what.
Dylan looked down at his lap.
Fuck it. Nothing good was going to come out of this if I kept second guessing everything and worrying about what people thought. Dylan was right here telling me he was hurt, that I’d done it even if he wouldn’t admit it directly. How could I let my best friend in the entire world walk away thinking that?
“Dylan…I’m a coward, okay?” I took a breath. It was feeling like now or never. My palms felt sweaty, but what was I supposed to do? Let him feel hurt? “I’m always…so worried about what everyone else thinks that…I’m an idiot. Because I should care more about what you think and what I let you think.”
His gaze was still bleary, unfocused. Like he was only half listening to what I was saying. “It’s okay, Brad.”
“No…it isn’t. It’s my fault. Dylan…” I scooted closer to him, placing a finger underneath his chin so that he had no choice but to look at me. “I have…feelings for you. I always have.”
Was that enough? It felt like it wasn’t.
“It’s you, it’s always been you. I’ve wanted to be with you since the first time I saw you. I’m just an idiot. I was so scared of telling you it led to this.”
He swallowed. “You don’t have to say that to…protect me or make it up to me or whatever…” he said, like I could even think of doing such a thing.
My thumb caressed his cheek. “I’m not saying anything that I don’t mean. I’ve been head over heels for you since that first time we met…I was just a coward, I was an idiot, and I didn’t want to fuck things up and I didn’t know if you’d see me like that. Just…I worried about the dumbest shit. I’ve only ever wanted you…as something more than just a fuck buddy.” My heart pounded, so much I was certain he could hear it. I didn’t want to break this moment, didn’t want to look to see if he believed me. I couldn’t look away.
His eyes glistened, and he swallowed. “What if…we do this and everything gets fucked up? I should have never suggested the fuck buddy thing…I think I got confused and horny and I didn’t think you’d ever like someone like me.”
My lips twitched in a hint of amusement. “Someone like you? Someone who’s interesting and funny and sweet and charming? Someone so completely beautiful? Who wouldn’t want someone like you?”
His cheeks turned the faintest shade of pink, this look of absolute astonishment on his pretty face, plush lips parted.
“Besides,” I continued, “What if this doesn’t mess anything up? What if it makes everything better?”
All at once, Dylan leaned in and pressed his lips against mine, desperate and needy. The sensation of warmth and comfort flowed through me, savoring the way he felt pressed against me. I pushed back those stupid questioning thoughts, pushed away the questions and the way I wondered about making people happy. Because all that mattered in the moment was Dylan. All that mattered was feeling him kiss me like this, knowing he wanted me as much as I wanted him.
How had I been stupid enough to not realize how wonderful this could be?
“Does this mean…?” Dylan asked, his voice faltering as he pulled back.
“That we’re together? I hope so…if you’ll have me.” I smiled a little, fear and anticipation coursing through my veins like wildfire.
Dylan nodded, looking like he didn’t trust his voice. He kissed me again, soft and slow. Hands came to push against my chest, and I laid back. Dylan moved on top of me, kissing me again as he took my hands, holding them in his own. Like he just needed to touch as much of me as he could.
His tongue slipped into my mouth, and I groaned, kissing him back, holding onto his hands. Something about having him so close and pressed against me was filling me with the strangest feeling, like I was hot all over and something was tugging at me.
Breaking the kiss to catch his breath, Dylan looked down at me with half-lidded eyes. “Should we tell people?”
That was the catch, wasn’t it?
There was a part of me that wanted to say we should tell the world that I wanted to scream it from the rooftops. That I wanted to tell every person in Paris that maybe I’d publish it in the SVU paper so everyone could know just how much I wanted this. Then I thought about the way our friends would roll their eyes and tell us how they knew it, how they were just waiting. Maybe even bet on it.
It felt too special for just that.
“Maybe we can keep this just for the two of us? For a little while?” I suggested, squeezing his hands. “I want to keep it special and safe for us…is that okay?”
A look passed over Dylan’s face, almost a little wary, but then he smiled and nodded. “A secret just for us? Secret boyfriend…mm, that could be fun.” He released my hands and slipped off, sliding onto the bed on his back.
I glanced at him. “Really? You want that?” Part of me wondered if this wasn’t the same as hiding the friends with benefits thing from everyone, if this was so much better.
“Sure…I want you to myself. I suspect I’ve liked you a long time, Brad…if I was more in touch with my emotions maybe I’d have realized it sooner.” There was a strangled sort of laugh in his throat.
Frowning, I moved to meet him and wrapped my arm around his thin waist. “I want you to stop being so hard on yourself. There’s nothing at all wrong with you, Dylan. I wanted to be with you because of who you are, not in spite of it.”
His fingers came to run through my hair, carding through the dark locks. “I’m sorry. I’m happy, really.”
Leaning in, I pressed a soft kiss against his cheek. A weight lifted from my chest, knowing that we at least didn’t have to live in this state of confusion of what the hell we were. This is what I’d always wanted, right?
Now we knew we were together, and life was good.
At least in private.