Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 73828 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 369(@200wpm)___ 295(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73828 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 369(@200wpm)___ 295(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
I break our kiss to say, “Who says we’re not going to have sex again?”
His smile broadens.
“You’re kind of amazing,” I say.
I don’t know why I even fucking said it, but I’m not ashamed. It’s how I really feel.
“What?”
“Don’t know what a guy like you ever saw in a guy like Greg.”
“I guess he didn’t see much in me.”
“And evidently Morgan didn’t see much in him either.”
Word got around that Morgan broke up with Greg two weeks ago, and when Mark first heard the news, I could tell he liked that it didn’t work out between them. But Greg’s already on the prowl for a new guy. Seen him around campus testing out a few freshmen.
“Fuck what that ass thought,” I say.
“Hold up. Why the fuck are you telling me that I’m amazing?”
“Not like in a weird way. I meant…you can fucking find a guy who’ll treat you like you deserve to be treated.”
“And how do I deserve to be treated?”
“You deserve someone who’s ready to fill that hole up on a regular basis. Maybe a couple times a day.”
His grin expands even more. “Oh, is that what I deserve?” he asks.
“No, seriously. You deserve someone special.”
“I think I’m starting to see how you lead guys on.”
“I don’t ever say that kind of shit to other guys.”
“Then why say it to me?”
“Because you’re not like other guys.”
“Whatever.”
It’s clear he doesn’t believe me, and that pisses me off.
I see how he always is. How he turns away every time I compliment him. How he can’t look me in the eyes when I’m honest with him about how cool he really is.
“I wouldn’t fucking say it if I didn’t mean it. I know I thought you were some privileged asshole like some of those other Emory kids, but now that I’m getting to know you, I see that’s not true.”
“And what do you really know about me?” he asks.
“I know you like to make cinnamon toast for breakfast. That you don’t like pepperonis on pizza considering that’s about the only thing you avoid on those freezable pizzas. I know that horror movies freak you out because you turn your head even if there’s a fucking commercial on for one.”
“Oh my God, that’s not even fair. A lot of people do those things. It doesn’t make them deserve someone special. I’m sure the other guys you’ve fucked around with had their own things that made them special, too.”
It’s different, though. He doesn’t understand how hard it is to meet a guy like him.
“Maybe it’s just you’re so tired of bullshitting because of your mom—having to put on this show—that you just don’t. It never seems like you’re faking anything when we’re together.”
“Definitely not faking orgasms,” he teases.
“Stop joking. I’m being serious.” I don’t want his humor right now, which he tends to fall back on whenever I get too serious. “With Keith and guys like that, I always felt like they were pretending. Trying to act like the perfect guy because they were trying to get me to be interested in them. You’re relaxed. Chill. It’s nice. It’s hard finding people who aren’t trying to pretend to be something they’re not.”
“Like you?” he asks, his gaze accusatory. “This bad boy who happens to love RuPaul’s Drag Race and Froot Loops.”
“I don’t pretend I’m better than I am.”
“No. You pretend you’re much worse than you are.”
I know the truth of it. I’m just guarded. Defensive. I don’t want to let anyone in. Let anyone hurt me.
“As soon as you stop being such a jerk, you can be a pretty cool guy,” he says.
Now he’s got me fucking smiling.
“Don’t get me wrong,” he adds. “You’re still a fucking prick.”
“I’m the prick who’s gonna fuck you in the ass again if you keep talking like that.”
“You need to work on your threats if you think that’s going to shut me up.”
“Oh, really?”
I set the bowl down on the coffee table.
I move closer to him, reach out, and tickle under his arms.
I can tell from things we’ve done in the past how ticklish he is, and it’s nice using it against him now.
“No, stop! Please stop!”
I lift him off the floor and throw him over my shoulder.
“What are you doing?” he asks.
“Giving you what you asked for.”
I fuck him good, to the point of exhaustion. I know I should leave. Don’t want to give him the wrong idea like I kinda did when I kissed him on the cheek in the living room, but I kinda do want to give him the wrong idea.
And it’s not as much of the wrong idea as I keep making it out to be.
No, Mark’s not like the other guys at all. He’s cool. He’s someone I have a great time with. I wish I didn’t have so much goddamn life-stuff going on because I want to spend so much time with him.