Page 14 of Home in Nevada

By the time I’m in the car, the giddy thrill of reconnecting is buzzing through me, making my heart feel lighter than it has in years.

Holy shit.I have my best friend back.

Chapter 5

The one where Jeff overthinks his entire existence.

Jamiewalksbackoverto me on the couch and kneels on the floor, his movements deliberate, confident. It’s the kind of confidence I’ve never had when it comes to him. I feel his hand brush against me, teasing, rubbing between my hips, and my breath hitches.

Shit, Jamie’s undoing my pants.

I know I could stop this. I should. I have a girlfriend. But the thought evaporates as Jamie’s fingers graze my skin, and I’m overwhelmed by this selfish, needy want I can’t control. Every touch from Jamie is electric, making me hyper-aware of how hard I am. There’s this voice in the back of my mind telling me to stop, screaming at me to push him away, that this isn’t right, that it’s not who I’m supposed to be. But I don’t want him to stop. I want him to keep going.

He pulls at the waistband of my underwear, and I let out a deep moan, the sound escaping before I can choke it back. Jamie crawls up, meeting my lips in a kiss that’s sweet at first, almost tentative. It’s the kind of kiss that makes me feel like I’m seventeen again, nervous and unsure, but when I pull at his bottom lip, I can taste the familiarity of him, and it’s intoxicating.

He breaks away, leaving me breathless, bending down to lick the fabric of my boxers. The feeling sends a jolt through me, a mix of pleasure and shame that tightens my chest. I shouldn’t be enjoying this—why the fuck am I enjoying this? But I can’t help it. I buck upwards, pressing into the heat of his mouth as he moves his tongue all around me through the thin cotton. It’s like he’s savoring every inch of me, and it’s maddening.

I push my jeans lower, needing more, feeling his thin fingers slip under the waistband of my boxers. When I look down, I see the wet spot on the fabric, and it’s humiliating, but it only makes me harder.

Jamie pulls my underwear down, and there’s that grin of his—playful, like he knows exactly what he’s doing to me. He leans in, pressing his lips to the base of my dick, flicking his tongue against the sensitive skin there. It’s gentle, almost reverent, like he’s worshipping me, and the thought makes my head spin. He starts licking me slowly, in all directions, like he’s mapping me out.

“Oh God...” I hear myself whisper, the sound choked with desperation. My hand clenches the couch cushion as I thrust upwards, and then I feel it—Jamie’s whole mouth over me. The wet heat of him is overwhelming, his tongue swirling around, and I swear I’m seeing stars. It’s more intense than anything I’ve ever felt. It’s like he knows exactly what I need, like he’s the only one who ever could.

It’s so good, it’s terrifying.

For a moment, everything fades away—the shame, the fear, the guilt. All I can think about is how right this feels, how right Jamie feels. The pleasure blurs the lines of everything I’ve fought against, and I can’t stop myself. I’m clinging to him, bucking upwards, giving in to the wave crashing over me.

I wake up on the floor.

I’m staring at my bedroom ceiling again.

Fuck.

Fuck.

What thefuckwas that?!

I panic and grab my dick for a second... It was a dream. Not just any dream, but a fucking wet dream. For the first time since I was a goddamn kid. And it was about Jamie?! I feel utterly humiliated. This hasn’t happened to me—ever—not since my teen years.

I glance over at the bed to make sure Lucy’s still asleep, then seize the chance to dash into the bathroom. Horrified, I look down at my pants, humiliated by the mess I’ve made.

After a quick, clumsy attempt to clean up, I splash cold water on my face and brace myself against the edge of the sink, staring down at the bathroom tiles like they might have the answers I’m looking for. My heart’s pounding, and it feels like I’m trapped in my own skin, like I can’t escape from the mess I’ve made. Not just in my pants, but in my entire life.

This trip is turning out to be just as fucking weird as I was afraid it would be. Who the hell has a wet dream about their best friend at twenty-two? What the fuck is wrong with me?

I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to force the images away, but they’re burned into my brain—Jamie’s mouth on me, the way it felt soright. I shouldn’t want this. I shouldn’t have ever wanted this. But the way I reacted, the way my body gave in... it’s like my subconscious is telling me something I’ve spent years trying not to hear.

Am I really that oblivious? Have I been lying to myself this whole time? It’s like every assumption I’ve made about who I am is crumbling, and I don’t know how to piece it back together.

I look up at my reflection, half expecting to see a different person staring back. My face is flushed, my eyes wide with panic, like I’m looking at a stranger.

I’ve got a girlfriend. I’mstraight.This isn’t who I’m supposed to be. Except, maybe it is. Maybe it always has been, and I’ve just been too terrified to admit it.

I grip the edge of the sink harder, knuckles turning white. The truth is, I’ve never been able to move on from Jamie. No matter how many girlfriends I’ve had, no matter how many times I’ve told myself it was just a phase, he’s always there in the back of my mind, like a shadow I can’t shake.

I take a deep breath, trying to calm the whirlwind of thoughts. It doesn’t help. If anything, the realization hits harder now, sinking into my chest like a weight I can’t lift.

This trip was supposed to be about reconnecting with my parents, but it feels more like I’ve opened a door I can’t close. And now I’m standing here, staring at my own reflection, wondering if I’ve been running from this—running fromhim—for years.

---