Page 133 of Best Served Cold

Why was this happening now?

Things were finally looking up.

Of course it couldn’t last.

It never fucking lasted.

I drew in a deep breath, sucking in until my lungs burned and my chest ached, then let it out in a rush.

Yesterday had been a whirlwind of emotions. I’d gone to the party expecting the worst, but it went better than I could have ever imagined.

My fears about drunkenly confession-dumping on Zane had been confirmed, but he wasn’t exasperated or angry at me for being confused. He’d been…kind.

He’d reassured me, and he’d confided in me too.

An ache formed in my chest. Being with him, getting to top him, had been the most incredible and satisfying experience of my life. Even better than when he’d taken me in the woods.

Seeing him give in like that. Knowing he trusted me enough to be vulnerable and let go had fostered a sense of intimacy I’d never experienced.

I felt a connection with him.

Did he feel it too?

He’d chosen me to be his first.

Did that mean something to him?

Should it mean something to me?

The caveman in me loved knowing I wasn’t just his first guy, but his first person. It tickled that deep, dark, and primal part of me that wanted to brand him from the inside so he never even looked at anyone else ever again. So I was the only person he thought about, the only one he wanted.

But the realist in me knew a guy like Zane could never be satisfied with someone like me. I was a novelty. The weird new guy with the piercings and the fucked-up backstory. The moron who didn’t even realize he liked dick and convinced himself that hooking up with another guy was a totally straight thing to do.

He was probably sick of me.

After we left the party, River drove Chanel home, and I gave Zane a lift to his apartment. Things were awkward without River there as a buffer, and it was completely my fault.

We chatted a bit, but I spent the whole drive in knots and second-guessing everything we’d just done, so it was stilted and strained.

We had another moment when I dropped him off. We sat there like dumbasses, staring at each other. I was a statue, panicking over whether or not I should kiss him or hug him or even just say something to prolong the conversation.

He looked like he was wishing he was anywhere other than in my truck, and after a clumsy kiss and a ‘see ya tomorrow’, he practically jumped out of my truck and sprinted up the walkway.

Everything about yesterday felt like it could have been a turning point.

But then I went and fucked it up.

Just like I always did.

In two days I managed to undo everything that could have been between us.

First he had to leave work to save my drunk ass from some wannabe thugs. Then I’d turned into a bumbling mess after topping him.

I shouldn’t have fucked him like that.

Not in a pantry with people around.

Exhibitionism was our thing, but that had been reckless and stupid and would have ended very differently if River hadn’t been there.

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