Hostile(37)

“Why not?” I step closer to him, but he retreats, bending down and picking up his clothes. The rejection stings.

“Because you can’t. You just can’t. That’s huge. Okay? You’ve never . . .” He takes a deep breath, huffing and flustered. “Just no. I’m not going to be the first one to fuck you.”

“So, that’s the problem? It doesn’t gross you out?”

“What?” He looks surprised now. “No. Why would it? I just can’t be the first one. It’s too big of a deal.”

I don’t know why the hell he’s making this so huge. It’s just another step from what we’ve already done. “It’s not. It doesn’t have to be. We’ve been fucking around a lot. I like it, in case you couldn’t tell, and I want more. I have a few months left before I have to go to college and play my dad’s game. I want to use the last few months I have to do what I want.”

“And if your dad finds out about all your experimenting?” He grabs my jeans and pushes them against my chest.

I hold them, but don’t move. “It’s not experimenting. I’m gay, and I know that. I’m not experimenting, but I am trying to enjoy it. And he won’t find out. What’s the difference between us making each other come and you sticking your dick in my ass?”

His eyes widen at that, and I notice he’s breathing heavier, his gaze dropping to my naked chest. He wants it. But he won’t admit it. He pushes his hand through his wet hair and shakes his head as if clearing his thoughts. “I can’t do that. It is a big deal. I can’t be someone’s first. I just can’t. The other stuff is fine. But don’t ask me to do that.”

I cock my head to the side, studying him, amazed at the fear I see on his face. I mean the guy is pale, looking close to passing out. “You’re joking, right? What the fuck, Rhett?”

“I just can’t.” He stomps off toward the cabin, carrying his shoes and clothes with him. I watch his ass barely covered by his wet boxer briefs as they cling to him and the muscles in his back, but I’m too angry to be turned-on.

I don’t get this guy as much as I thought I did.

And that was already not much.





TWENTY-FIVE





Jesus fucking Christ. What the hell is wrong with me?

It shouldn’t be a big deal. We’ve done everything else, but when he told me he wanted me to fuck him, I’ve never been more afraid. I want him to let it go. I want to go back to before his request, when we were just fooling around.

When it was just two guys messing around. Not so damn heavy.

I walk into the cabin and go up the stairs to the loft, tossing my clothes on the floor and pushing my sopping wet briefs off, then flinging them into the pile. Walking over to my bag, I unzip it as I hear Grayson’s loud footsteps coming up the stairs.

His eyes roam over my naked form, but it’s not the usual lust I see in his eyes when they finally meet mine. No, he’s pissed. “Talk to me.”

“I did. I told you I can’t do that.”

“You didn’t give me an explanation.”

“I did. You just didn’t like it.” I grab a dry pair of boxer briefs and tug them up over my ass.

He’s still in his wet briefs, which cling obscenely to his junk, causing me to momentarily stare before he clears his throat and demands my attention. “That you just don’t want to be the first one to fuck me? Yeah. I don’t like it. What the hell does it matter?”

It’s too real. Too permanent. Too fucking everything.

“I just can’t.” I gesture widely in his direction. “You need to change, or your balls really will fall off.”

He rolls his eyes, not moving, the stubborn ass. My body is still freezing from jumping into that damn lake, and I know his is too. “I’m fine. Tell me why. I need more of an explanation.”

I huff and sit down on the edge of the bed, pulling the big comforter up and over my shoulders. “Sit with me.”

He pushes his wet briefs off and kicks them toward the pile of clothes, clearly not worried about his nakedness. He joins me on the bed, taking half of the comforter. His cold, bare arm brushes against mine as we wrap ourselves in the blanket. He’s looking at me, waiting for more of an explanation.

“It just ties us together forever, you know?”

He looks annoyed but doesn’t lash out. “I think we already are.”

Time for real honesty. “I don’t even know who I am. Still. I mean, I know I like you, and I like fooling around. But if I don’t even know who I am . . .” I sigh heavily and pull the blanket a little tighter around me. “How can I know what we are together?”

His eyes search mine, and I wait for him to mock me as his brows furrow in deep thought. “Wait. So, you think by me wanting to fuck, I need a definition or something. Like a ‘what are we’ kind of talk?”

I nod quickly because isn’t that when the talk usually comes? At least when it comes to first times and shit. “Yeah. And I have no idea how to navigate all this.”

His smile is kind, but also kind of menacing as he shoves my shoulder playfully. “Jesus, it wasn’t a marriage proposal. I wasn’t declaring my love for you or anything. You just have a really nice dick, and I wanted to feel it inside me.”