Page 32 of The Hookup Mix-up

How does one say that after the mix-up we already had and then swearing I’m straight?

I eat another piece of pizza, leaving the crust like I always do, following it with a drink. We eat it all, and then Perry sets the box on the ground so we can lie on our stomachs again.

“Are you sure you’re okay to keep watching it?” I ask him.

“For sure. I had no idea it’s queer.”

I whip my head in his direction because, um…what? “Who’s queer?”

“The two main characters who are totally fucking behind the scenes?”

“No they’re not. They’re just friends.”

He stares at me for a moment, eyes wide like he’s waiting for the punchline before a loud laugh jumps out of his mouth.

“What? Why are you laughing at me? I’ve watched this whole season, and they’re one hundred percent not hooking up! I think I would remember that. Not that I’d have a problem if they were, but they’re not.”

“Oh, my sweet summer child. You really don’t have a clue, do you? The sexual tension is crazy thick. I bet they’re fucking in the next season and you find out they were the whole time.”

Annoyance prickles at me. There’s no way I missed that, but then, he’d been flirting with me, and I didn’t have a clue.

Still, I grab the pillow he’d screamed in earlier and smack him with it.

“Hey. What did I do to deserve that?”

He tries to pull it out of my hand, but I squeeze tighter. I don’t know who actually starts it, how we go from trying to pull the pillow from each other’s hands to wrestling around on his bed, but we do. Perry’s muscular body presses and rubs against mine as we play tug-of-war with the pillow. We roll around, him on top, then me, the temperature in my body going up even more as every place he touches me pulses and throbs with…something. Awareness, yes, but maybe more.

Perry tries to get the upper hand again, arching and trying to throw me off him with his body. The vibration in my body grows, spreads out, gets stronger and stronger. It distracts me, which is exactly what Perry needs to flip us, him lying on top of me. My legs spread open, his body between them, our chests touching, both of us breathing heavily while he looks down at me.

Wow…he has pretty eyes, brown like I knew, with flecks of a lighter shade.

Blood rushes to my groin, the area hot and throbbing.

“Do you give up?” he asks, and I shift, which makes his pupils blow wide when he feels my erection.

We both freeze, staring at each other, my breaths coming out faster and faster.

Perry licks his lips, which immediately draws my attention to them. They’re nice lips. I wouldn’t call them plump, but they’re not thin either. Little hairs run the length of his jaw. He’s usually smooth when I see him, but it’s the end of the day and maybe he didn’t shave this morning.

His eyes are still holding me captive, the different shades of brown, and his lashes, thick and curling up more than mine do. Perry has more defined cheekbones too. I wouldn’t call them sharp, but they’re noticeable, drawing my attention like everything on his face. He’s…fuck, he’s hot. Really fucking hot. As soon as the thought hits me, my body starts firing off with all these pings of desire. Perry shifts, making my erection throb again.

“Physical reaction,” he says and tries to move off me. Panic pierces my chest, and I do the first thing I can think of—I wrap my legs around him to hold him in place. “Um…I’m not sure if this is another one of those things you miss, but what we’re doing right now? It’s pretty fucking gay.”

“Bi,” stupidly comes out of my mouth.

“Huh?”

“You’re bisexual.”

“And you said you’re straight.”

“But am I?” I ask, then ignore my heart trying to beat out of my chest, shut down all the thoughts sprinting around in my head, take hold of his nape, and bring Perry’s mouth down on mine.

It’s awkward at first, me trying to come to terms with what I’m doing and him likely wondering if I’ve lost my damn mind, but then he moves against me, his body rubbing along my erection, and I moan…the dick rub somehow telling my tongue to sneak out, and it does, flicking against Perry’s closed lips.

I sorta want to throw a temper tantrum when he eases his head back. “You said you’re straight,” he reiterates. “What are you doing?”

“I don’t know, but it feels good. I wanted to do it that night at the bar. I guess that means I’m not straight. Surprise!” I try for playful, and he does give me a small smile, but sobers quickly.

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