Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 87392 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 437(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87392 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 437(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
Like kissing each other was just something we were made to do.
He let his lips linger on mine for a few moments before pulling back and taking a deep breath. Finally his expression was more relaxed, like he was finally feeling some semblance of calm.
“You’re my favorite person, too,” I said, my voice low.
He swallowed, and I could see the faint movement of his Adam’s apple. I felt so silly that such a small thing like that could turn me on, but with Mitch, it did. I loved every part of him.
“It’s times like these when I get all confused,” Mitch said, pulling his hands away from me and running them through his hair. “And I feel like maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if we were boyfriends. I know that sounds absolutely fucking ridiculous.”
My body felt like it was on fire.
Nope. Doesn’t sound ridiculous at all. Sounds like everything I’ve wanted, for my entire life, actually.
“I understand,” I said, trying to keep my voice even.
“I mean, I’m not gay. I don’t think. Never have had feelings for men. But fuck, Evan, none of that even occurs to me when I’m doing things with you. It all just feels good. And that’s what’s so fucking confusing, and it drives me out of my mind, on top of all the other levels of changes happening in my life, and my brain is fucking fried, dude—”
“Hey,” I said, watching his knuckles go white as they gripped on the side of his head. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. What did I just tell you? Everything’s going to be okay.”
“What if it’s not, though?” he said, his gaze snapping up to meet mine. All of the tension was back again. “I’ve failed so many people, Ev, and sometimes I feel like all I have left is you. My dad was never around to begin with. I failed my mom back when I was seventeen. And now… what if I’m not just failing Jess, and Zach, and myself, but I also end up failing you?”
“Stop. Just stop,” I said. I turned toward him on the couch and wrapped my arms around him as he heaved once in a sob. For a moment I wondered if I was going to see Mitch cry, a very rare occurrence, but after a moment he seemed to actually take heed to what I’d said. He went still in my arms, slumping against me, just letting me hold him close.
It was strange, having the tables turned like this. Mitch was always the one to comfort me, especially back in school. He wasn’t typically the type to need this type of comfort.
But right now, he needed me. And no matter how convoluted everything was, there was nowhere else I’d have rather been.
After a while, his breathing grew more even.
“Okay,” I said quietly, leaning back to look him in the eye while keeping my arms around his sides. “Here’s what we’re going to do. Put on something you want to watch. Could be ESPN, old football games, or whatever random documentary about pigs you were watching the other night.”
His face softened slightly when I said that. He nodded.
“I’m going to go in the kitchen and make us both cups of tea.”
A small smile finally appeared on his face. “Tea, huh?”
“Yep. Hot, herbal tea. I’m going to bring it out here and we are just going to relax. We aren’t going to worry about anything else, but I’m going to be here. All night. Okay?”
For a moment it looked like he was about to protest, but I gave him a look.
Finally he nodded. “Okay.”
“Fantastic,” I said, squeezing the sides of his torso before getting up to head to the kitchen. A few minutes later, I returned to the living room. An old recording of some football game from the 70s was playing on the TV and Mitch had nestled up in a bunch of blankets on the couch. He was taller than the length of the blankets, so the bottoms of his feet still stuck out. His face just peeked out of the top of the blanket, and he smiled softly at me.
It was so adorable I hardly knew how to contain myself. I wanted to do obscene things to this man, and I had for a long time. But I also wanted to take care of him in any way I could.
“Tea. Fresh ‘n’ hot,” I said, setting both mugs down on the coffee table. I sat on the couch in the corner right by Mitch’s head, and he wordlessly shimmied so that his head was on my lap.
The stuff of my high school wet dreams and nightmares. Back in the day, having Mitch’s head anywhere near my lap like this would have given me a heart attack, worrying that I’d pop a boner and he’d feel it.