Page 16 of Sweet

“Hey,” I sigh.

“Someone’s been busy today.” Will’s voice already sounds so thick and drippy. It’s hard for me to forget how sweet he is.

“I had a lot to do.” My eyebrows scrunch and even now, on the phone, I’m not sure what I should do about him. “Had a lot to think about, too.”

“Such as?”

I take a deep breath. Really, I care most about what I want. And I want him. He’s supposed to be the one. I also care about myself. Until now, what I want and what’s in my best interest has never conflicted so much.

“I think maybe you should try harder with that guy you like. Or even your friend. Anyone but me.”

Will quiets and takes a long pause before he says, “Why?”

“I’m starting to doubt if this will be good for either of us.”

“I pissed you off, didn’t I?” he concludes.

“No.”

“You never ignore me all day.” He stays level, but that forcefulness creeps back into his voice. And I’m already enjoying it too much. “Even when you said you didn’t mind, I couldn’t really believe you.”

“I really don’t.” And I honestly don’t. He can spend his final days sticking his dick into whoever and whatever he wants.

“Clearly, you do.”

“No,” I say again. I can hear him gearing up to say more and with a sudden rush, something I shouldn’t confess spills out. “It’s… I know you.”

“Sure. You know mesowell,” he scoffs.

“I mean, I recognize you from the picture you sent me,” I clarify. “I know who you are, Will.”

“Well, this is awkward.” He pauses enough to release a long sigh. “Let me guess. You don’t want me to figure out who you are, too.”

“Not really, no.”

“Is this like a being in the closet sort of thing?”

“No,” I admit. “It’s more like… I don’t think I can keep moving forward now.”

“Have we met? Do you know me well?”

“I’m not telling you that.”

“Do you like me? In person?”

“I’m not telling you that, either.”

Will takes a deep sigh. “Okay. Sounds like bullshit, but okay.”

“It’s not.”

“It is. You said you’d be okay with us never telling each other who we are. And I agreed. Still do. It’s not my fault you found out who I am. You’re not obligated to tell me who you are, you know?”

“I know,” I quietly agree with him.

“So, what you really should’ve said is, ‘Will, I’m scared shitless you’re going to realize who I am’ because that’s the real issue here.”

Well, he’s right. Only not for the reasons he thinks, whatever those may be.

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