Page 50 of Lethal Seduction

"What's wrong?" Michael asks, concern etched across his face. "Are you okay? Did I hurt you?"

I pull away, backing off his lap and stand. What can I say? How can I still be affected by this? What the hell is wrong with me? I shake my head and cross my arms. Fighting the urge to run away, I grab both our empty wine glasses and head for the kitchen.

"I'll get us a refill." I hurry away, instantly wanting to kick myself in the butt. Here I go again, ruining a good thing. I open the refrigerator and pull out a fresh bottle, white wine this time.

Looking back into the living room, I can see Michael still sitting there watching television, although I'm sure he isn't actually paying attention. He's most likely trying to figure out what the hell my problem is. I pour wine into the glasses, then slowly walk back and hand him one.

"Thank you," he says, taking the wine. He immediately takes two gulps. Yep, he's freaked out, and why wouldn't he be? I'm acting like a freak.

I lower myself down next to him on the sofa and sigh. "I owe you an apology."

He shakes his head. "You don't ever have to apologize. If you're not ready... you're not ready. I can be patient."

"It's not that," I say. "Or at least it's not just about that."

"What is it then?" he asks. "I don't want you to feel pressured into anything."

"I don't," I say.

"Then, what is it?" He shifts uncomfortably in his seat. "If I said something or did something wrong, please tell me. Patrick, I really like you."

Michael's tone is so heartbreaking. I made him blame himself. This is exactly why I've struggled to be intimate with someone I care about. Wait... I care about him. I must really care about Michael.

This is a really good thing. Suddenly, my spirits feel lifted. My feelings are really starting to come to the surface, and I want to keep it going. "It's not you... it's me."

"You're ending this already?" His eyes go wide.

"No," I say. "No... nothing like that." I start laughing.

"Why are you laughing?"

I try to explain, but I can't stop myself. This whole thing has been so ridiculous. "I'm sorry. It's not so much funny as it is stupid."

He rests back against the sofa. "Care to share?" His expression has softened and he clearly feels better than he did just a few moments ago.

Regaining control of myself, I take another sip of wine. "First, do you have enough wine?"

He looks at his glass and nods.

"Okay," I say with a smile. "You're going to need it after this story."

Michael smirks. "This I've got to hear."

"We're going to have to jump into a way-back machine," I say. "Picture it, Senior Prom... 2018."

“First of all, ouch,” Michael says with a laugh. “Now, I feel really old.”

I swat his arm. “Don’t. You’re gorgeous. Anyway, the Varsity Football Quarterback, Ricky and I had a special moment in the boys’ room. One thing led to another, and before I knew it, I was draining him dry in the back of his pickup truck.”

“Hot.”

“Yes,” I agree. “But I caught feelings for him. He was a real nice guy… when no one else was around. We had more in common than our joy of gay sex. He was actually a really interesting guy, and I fell so hard for him.”

“What happened to him? Did he die?”

I shake my head. “No, nothing like that. I kind of feel like it was actually worse. We would have sex, laugh, talk, and figure out how we were going to conquer the world together… but that was only while we were alone. At school or in public, I was lucky when he ignored me… sometimes he’d even laugh and point at me with his football buddies. Each and every time it was a knife in my chest.”

Michael reaches for my hand and holds on. It's nice. Seems like he isn’t going anywhere. I swallow down my rising emotions.

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