Page 50 of The Idiot

“It’s a soap opera that Mom watches,” I explain, moving to my laptop to stop it.

“Don’t shut it off!” he protests. “I was just getting into it.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah. This Rodrigo guy said he’s going off on some mission to the Amazon, but the other guy was just looking at rings. He was just window-shopping, staring at them through the glass, but it’s like it was implied that he was thinking about it, you know? But now Rodrigo’s going to leave.”

Unbelievable. He likes Breathless. I hate to tell him it’s going to be some long cold months for Barrett before Rodrigo comes back, but then snap myself the fuck out of it. I cannot let myself be further sucked in by his boyish charm just because some skin on skin got him off when he was horny.

“Um, you going to head to your room? I’m probably going to hit the hay.”

“No way.” He shakes his head without breaking his gaze from the TV.

Rolling my eyes, I pull the sheet back on my side. Wait. No.

Yourbed, Murph.Yourentire fucking bed. Stop it.

“I’ll let you borrow it. Get out. I’m going to sleep.”

Going to sleep so I can wallow in my idiocy and the memory of the sounds you made while you came.

“I’m not leaving you,” he says firmly, tugging the sheet tighter to his chest. “I know you. If I do, you’ll act all weird tomorrow.”

“What? What are you talking about?”

Shrugging, he just keeps staring at the damn TV. I don’t miss the way he’s chewing the inside of his lip, though. He does that shit when he’s feeling vulnerable, but doesn’t want to admit it.

“Jesse. Why would I be weird?”

“Because I watched your porn with you. You get all mad when I try to talk about gay stuff with you, and you think you can’t share stuff with me, so… I’m not leaving, or you’ll be embarrassed about jerking off to porn in front of me.”

I can’t even speak.I’llbe embarrassed?

Okay, fine. I am a little bit embarrassed. Not about the jerking off part, but about the ‘what-I-was-thinking-about-when-I-jerked-off’ part. He doesn’t know that, though. I thought he’d be the one to be embarrassed.

“That’s ridiculous. I’m not embarrassed. I jerk off all the time.”

We exchange awkward looks as I realize justhowembarrassing that cocky admission was. But then he shrugs.

“So do I.”

Okay. That’s not helpful.

“So, Mr.NotEmbarrassed,” he taunts. “Go to sleep then. I want to find out what happens to Rodrigo. We’ll get breakfast in the morning when you’re stillnotembarrassed. That way, you can’t run away from me and pretend like you enjoy going to the gym for three hours.”

I hate him. I really kind of hate him.

I hate how much he knows me, but doesn’t know the one thing I want him to know and reciprocate it. And I really hate how much lack of sleep I’m getting on this damn vacation.

Slipping into bed, purposely without any grace, I settle onto my side with my back facing him. Fluffing my pillow with more force than necessary, I pinch my eyes shut and try to will away my focus on the potency of his scent. If I kept insisting he leave, I’d just end up making an ass of myself and looking like I am embarrassed over the jerk session.

“If you dick-stab me in the back of the thigh again in the morning, I’m going to throat punch you,” I warn him because I refuse to be the only person in this bed who feels humiliated over their behavior.

Now, all I can think about is the five seconds I had the tip of his dick in my hand. Fuck.

“Liar. No one is that hostile after getting off.”

He has no idea. I hate me. I really kind of hate me, not him.

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