Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 80635 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80635 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
I chuckled, unsure how else to respond. The hairs on my arms were standing on end, combined with a fluttering feeling in my gut that couldn’t be good at all. How many times had Park talked about shit like that—about feeling fluttery over a guy. I’d never experienced it before.
“Now you’re Mr. Deep-in-Thought Face. It’s kinda sexy and smoldering, aaand let’s forget I said that. Please don’t block my number and—oh! I love this song!”
I didn’t recognize it, but Sebastian was already on his feet and dancing. It was an older pop song, a girl singing about being in love with her best friend and him never seeing her that way. Sebastian moved to the music, singing along with the words, his body swaying in a way I could never get mine to do. It was clear he was a good dancer. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from him.
That wide, plump-lipped smile of his curled at the corners. He fluttered his dark lashes, closing his eyes and opening them while he let the music wash over him. His brown gaze sparkled when he looked at me, and I loved the stubble along his jaw. That feeling in my stomach intensified, attacking me and threatening to take me over.
Before I knew it, Sebastian was pulling the bottle from my hand and I was letting him. He set it down, grabbed my wrist, and I let him pull me to my feet.
“Let’s dance.”
“You’re like a different person when you’re buzzed,” I said, but I didn’t pull away.
“Yeah, I’m cut off,” he replied, and I chuckled. “Or maybe you just put me at ease. Let’s forget I said that too. Wine gives me loose lips.”
“I don’t dance.”
“Just sway.” He tugged me closer, my feet moving despite my telling them not to. “I used to want to take dance lessons when I was a kid, but I was afraid to ask my parents. I thought it would be too obvious. Acting and dance. They’d be sure to know I was gay then. How sad is that?” he asked while forcing me to move with him, only he wasn’t really forcing. I was just doing it. “Not only that people have to worry about things like that, but that I wasted so much time. My family loves me and they accept me and affirm me, and I wasted so much fucking time. I don’t ever want to do that again, but I have been.”
He put my hands on his waist and wrapped his around my neck. I understood what he was saying. Of course those things he mentioned weren’t only done by gay men, and not all gay men enjoyed them. We weren’t a monolith, but stereotypes are strong, and people would have assumed. “It doesn’t seem like you’re wasting time to me.”
“I’m trying to change.”
He was brave. I should probably tell him that, but I didn’t.
“I used to have a crush on my childhood best friend. Did I tell you that? This was my theme song growing up. I loved a boy who didn’t love me back, only I didn’t really love him, just like the singer didn’t…but she found her guy eventually.”
We were at that part of the song, with her as an adult now and meeting the man meant for her.
“It’s different for us, ya know? My fluttery feelings were never returned as a kid, no one who I crushed on felt the same, which made it feel less real. It’s not like that for straight people.”
“Parker says that too.” I brushed my thumb under Sebastian’s shirt, against the bare skin of his waist. His breath hitched, and then he was dancing his fingertips along my nape, tangling them into my hair, letting the strands slip through his fingers.
“This is nice,” Sebastian said softly.
“Yeah,” I admitted, then cleared my throat. It was nice. When did I let myself have anything that felt so good? When did I let myself feel much of anything? I didn’t want to let myself do it now, but I didn’t seem to have power over it when I was with Sebastian.
My cock plumped, warmth in my groin. He was hard too, but we didn’t move to do anything about it, just danced. He put his head on my shoulder, and I slid my hands around to run up and down his back.
“We don’t talk anymore…my old best friend and I. Somehow, I’ve lost every single friend I’ve ever had. The real ones, I mean. Not acquaintances. Maybe that should tell me there’s something wrong with me. I’m the common denominator.”
“No.” My voice was firm and sincere. “It’s not you. It’s just life, and fucked-up shit happens, sometimes for a reason and sometimes not.”
His head turned slightly, his lips a faint whisper against my neck, my jaw, my cheek. This was so fucking dangerous, which didn’t totally make sense. It wasn’t as if we hadn’t slept together, kissed and touched each other, but that was before, and this was now, and things were more.