Page 65 of Wrath

“Yeah, I know,” I confirm. “So after that, we—I—”

He smiles weakly, covers his face with a hand. “This is so weird.”

“You had a good time,” I say, smirking despite myself. “Until after. I was a prick, and then you went to get a shower.”

“And in the shower…”

I nod. “I came in to say I was sorry.”

He laughs, sliding his hand off his eyes so he can grin at me. “You were gonna saysorry?”

“Shut the fuck up.”

He smiles like he’s enjoying this.

“Yeah,” I say, “so I went in andsavedyou. Basically a hero.” I press my lips together, trying not to laugh, and Millsy snickers.

“Brought you in here, tucked you all up.” I arch one eyebrow. “Called your mom, too.”

“Shit, was she worried?” he asks.

“Probably. But I told her I’ve got it covered. I’ve been checking in.” I hold my phone up. “Using the finger tester thing to check things out.”

“The finger tester thing, huh?”

“The pulseoximeter.”

“Wow, that’s what it’s called?” he says.

“That’s what it said on the box.”

He gives me a strange look. Maybe he knows the damn thing didn’t have a box. I found it lying in a drawer, where his mom said to look.

“Well, I’m fine,” he says, pushing up on one of his elbows. He looks around the room like he’s seeing it for the first time, his eyes resting for a second on the football pillow over in my armchair.

Then he shifts his legs toward the bed’s side and scoots so he’s sitting there, my blankets pooled around his waist, his bare back rippling as he leans on his arm.

“I’m gonna…go or whatever.” He stands, tugging the sheet off my bed and wrapping it around his hips. “So uh…thanks.” He glances over his shoulder, pressing his lips together as he moves toward my bedroom door.

“Bathroom route’s faster,” I say.

“Mm.”

I can’t help walking to the doorway, watching as he walks to his room. “Do you feel okay?”

“Like I got my dick sucked by some ‘straight’ guy,” he says.

I can’t help a low hoot. I guess he remembered.

Four

Josh

The first thing I realize after getting to my room is that I don't have my phone. I drape his top sheet over my baseboard and grab a pillow to cover my junk before checking the bathroom. But it's not in there. Ezra has it. It's got a passcode, so I guess I don't care. I'm not going to get it just yet.

He was right: I reallydon'tremember last night. When I said something about getting sucked off by a straight guy, I was just bullshitting. What I do remember, in fucking detail, is me running through the bathroom like Super Queero. Climbing on his bed and reaching down to grab his shoulders.

Ezra...

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