Page 54 of A Boy Called Lovesong

I left it on while I sat up to take off my shoes, my shirt. I realized I could take everything off, sleep naked if I wanted to and it probably wouldn’t bother him in the least.

It suddenly struck me as odd that Lovesong was wearing those oversized boxer shorts in bed, given the ease with which he had dropped his trousers in front of me earlier that evening, and I had to ask, “Why are you wearing those ridiculously big boxer shorts? Either you need someone else to do your clothes shopping for you, or they’re not yours.”

“They’re not mine,” he readily admitted. “I was embarrassed that I madeyouembarrassed earlier, when I took off my clotheswithout even thinking. That was rude of me. So, for discretion’s sake, I asked to borrow these from L’il Leroy.”

His polite gesture annoyed me. “You don’t have to do that just for me. Please don’t do anything for me.”

“And please don’t think you need to wear anything to bed. If you wanna sleep in the buff, don’t let me stop you. I won’t even peek.”

Oh, so now he was being politeandcute.

Determinedly I stood and unzipped my trousers. “You know what, I think I’ll do just that.”

I dropped my pants and slid my underwear down my legs, and there I stood facing him, completely naked.

I realized I hadn’t taken off my clothes in front of another man—whether he could see me or not—since before Joel died.

Perhaps it was my defiance or my boldness or my anger kicking back in… perhaps it was the adrenaline still pumping through my system after such a crazy night… or perhaps it was the blood still simmering inside me… but before I knew it, my cock began to swell.

Lovesong sat there for a moment, his eyes unblinking before he said, “Feel better?”

“Matter of fact, I do. Feel free to do the same. I wouldn’t want to ruin your usual sleep routine.”

He gave a casual hitch of his shoulders. “If it’s fine by you, don’t mind if I do.”

Was he baiting me?

Was he mocking me?

Was he flirting with me?

I refused to give him that much control.

Quickly I snapped off the lamp, folded into my bed and said, “Goodnight.”

I pulled the sheet over myself and rolled away from him, facing the wall.

I heard him stand from his bed, then the swish of fabric on skin.

I heard the boxer shorts flop onto the floorboards.

Despite my rage, part of me wanted to roll over and see his handsome, naked form, even if only in the pale light of the moon that shone through the French doors which were now closed.

Besides, what did he care? He’d already stripped in front of me once today.

Slowly, ever so quietly, I rolled over, turning my head, seeing his frame in the blue light of the moon—his naked, beautiful body, his perfectly sculpted muscles, his long, semi-hard dick swinging between his legs, almost taking my breath away when—

Squeak.

I was suddenly betrayed by the springs in the mattress beneath me.

I saw the whites of his teeth in the pale light as a smile spread across his face.

Then all he did was climb beneath his sheets, let Chet cuddle up around his feet, and whisper, “Goodnight Noah.”

I fell asleep quickly.

And I woke just as fast.

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