Riding With Brighton(15)
But that’s not the reason I give for hanging out with Brighton. I tell them the second half of the truth. “Maybe I’m sick of doing the same exact crap, having the same damn conversations, every day of my life. And really… ‘fag’? Who says shit like that anymore?”
Jones snickers, and I expect him to jump on the hater bandwagon, but he shocks the hell out of me when he says, “You know what they say, don’t you? It’s the closeted guys who are the biggest homophobes. You got a confession to make, Mack?” He laughs and wags his eyebrows.
“Fuck you,” Mack mutters.
“Is that a proposition? Because I don’t hate on Brighton or any gay dude. I’m totally cool with it because, sorry to break this to you, I’m straight.”
Mack leans forward and gets his finger in Jones’s face. “Say it. Say it one more time that I’m a fag like this queer, and I will tear your fucking eyes out.”
“Ahem.” I look up at the girl clearing her throat and holding plates of food. This is clearly Josie, the hot girl. She sets their food down and says, “Can I get you anything else?” The expression on her face is not service friendly.
“Yeah, actually—” Mack begins to say, but she cuts him off.
“Hey, Brighton,” she says with a flirty smile, running her long pink nails down his arm. “I’ve been missing you. You gotta second?”
“I’ve got all the time in the world for you,” he says in his deep voice.
He stands and wraps an arm around her, and the two of them walk to the small hall where the bathrooms are.
“What the hell does she want from him?” Mack mutters, his eyes glued to them, just like mine and Jones’s are.
“He’s got a way with women,” I mutter, which is so true it’s almost devastating—wasting all that swoon-worthy power on a gay guy. I mean, if he were using it on me, saying he had all the time in the world for me, that would be one thing, but he seems to wield most of his powers on the ladies.
“She must not know he’s gay.”
“I don’t think girls really care what he is.”
The two of them are talking to each other, and something about how close they are and the expression on her face feels intimate. I’m watching with something between horror and fascination as he wraps his arms around her lower back and walks her into the wall, pushing himself into her. You can practically hear her groan. Or maybe that’s just the voice in my head that I’ve been trying to keep under wraps all day.
She looks up at him, clearly turned on, and runs her pink nails through the back of his dark hair. I watch as, inch by inch, his mouth moves closer to hers. She cranes her neck to close the gap.
And then they’re kissing. Like full-on, shoving their tongues down each other’s throats kissing. And I’m pretty sure my jaw just bounced off the table. I watch each flex of his jaw as he works her over. Each tilt of his head as his tongue prods her mouth. The way his body conforms to hers like he’s claiming her. The way her hands are now digging into his broad shoulders like she’s about to lose her ever lovin’ mind. Holy fuuck.
I don’t know how long the kiss lasts. It feels like an eternity, but when he pulls away from her, I’m not ready to see it end. I don’t want to stop watching what he looks like when he’s kissing someone. She continues to look up at him and now she looks drunk, and I legitimately want to punch her in her satisfied face. I mean, I wouldn’t really do that obviously, but the word “bitch” is running through my head, and I’m seriously contemplating a cat fight. She wraps her arms around his neck again and stands on the tips of her toes to whisper something in his ear. He smiles at her and shakes his head before backing out of her arms.
When he walks away from her, I’m aware that we’re all staring at him, so I turn my eyes to Mack, who looks completely stunned.
Brighton sits back down in the booth but doesn’t say anything. Just kicks back, all relaxed like nothing happened.
“What the hell was that about?” Mack says accusingly.
“What do you mean?” Brighton says, like he’s genuinely confused.
“She’s… a girl.”
Brighton scrunches up his face and shakes his head like he has no idea why Mack’s confused. “And?”
“You’re gay.”
“Well, yeah. I mean, I fuck guys….” He pauses, probably to enjoy the look on Mack’s face. “But I don’t hate on the ladies.”
“So you have slept with her?”
“You think I’m gonna talk about that with you?” he asks with a sarcastic laugh.
“Yes… please.”
“No,” Brighton tells him, the look on his face no longer amused.
“Well, if she’s getting it on with you, then for sure she’ll give it up for me.”
“Listen, asshole—” Brighton starts, but Josie shows up at the table with a takeout bag.
“I figured you wouldn’t mind if I bagged up your lunches,” she says, looking between me and Brighton. “The clientele ain’t so good in here today, I’m afraid.”
“Thanks, sweetie,” Brighton says, standing and taking the bag from her. “It’s like you can read my mind.” His spare hand is around her lower back now, and she practically falls into him.