Page 25 of Stalked

“I’ve been thinking of getting something tattooed. My whole family has them. I think it’s about time I get something done,” he says, his hand disappearing into his dress pants pocket. I have no idea what he’s searching for. But suddenly the words he spoke finally catch up and he can’t be serious.

“You’re joking.” I laugh because seriously Tobias can’t be… I just…no.

“I’m not. I mean you should see my uncle, he has a shit ton. I don’t think there's any space left on his skin. Literally. Plus, this way… never mind. I just think a tattoo would be nice.”Smirking at me, he pulls out a pen, holding it out for me.

“So, what’s your plan then?” I ask, reaching slowly for the stupid pen.

“Draw something on me. Anything, I don’t care.” Tobias scoots down lying down on my bed.

“Tobias.” I sigh, my eyes dropping to the pen sitting in my hand.

“Gabriel.”

“I’m not sure. I’m decent, I can somewhat make a living out of it… but drawing on someone’s skin. What if, I dunno, it never comes off?”

“It won’t. I planned on getting it tattooed eventually. Maybe tomorrow morning, but the pen works for now.” Throwing his arms behind his head, he raises a brow at me. Waiting for yet another excuse.

I just don’t have one.

Maybe one.

He’s looking delicious and all I want to do is rip his pants off to see his package. But he’s straight and that would be entirely awkward.

“Okay...” I whisper. Turning over I sit beside him and shakily start on his chest. I’m not even sure what I’m drawing, but I never am.

I let my mind wander, let my feelings go, and just draw. It’s how I coped with the past and how I cope with my nightmares now.

I don’t know how long it’s been since I began drawing on his chest, but when Tobias mumbles, “Kiss me,” I sit back, panic rushing through my veins.

“I, uh, I’d rather not.” I laugh, refusing to acknowledge the hurt in his eyes. “I’ve fallen for straight men before and it never ends well. I’d rather not kiss you once and then wonder what it feels like to kiss you whenever I want,” I word vomit. I can’t look at him anymore, I don’t want to see him laugh or smirk knowing he’s got the gay kid to fall for him.

“Why can’t you kiss me whenever you want?” he asks, his voice small.

“Because I’m gay, duh,” I scoff.

“Yeah, so?”

“Dude, are you really that dense? Come on, I mean I’m gay and you’re straight. That’s literally a recipe—"

“Who said I was straight?” Tobias asks angrily. Whipping my head towards him, sure enough, Tobias is fuming. Brows furrowed, hands fisted at his side as if I kicked his damn dog.

“I mean… aren’t you? I mean… I tried not to read too much into the flirting, some guys are just natural flirts, even with guys….” I’m probably not making any sense. I barely understand this myself. I mean, what do I know? I grew up half my life hiding who I was because my nonbiological father hated gays and women and honestly anything that wasn’t hookers and drugs.

“I’m not straight,” Tobias finally says, still frowning at me.

“So, you’re gay?” I ask, a little hope slipping out. I shouldn’t get my hopes up, I really shouldn’t. But it’s there and I can’t control it.

“No.”

“That doesn’t make any sense, love...” I sigh, the fight in me leaving.

Suddenly Tobias is grabbing my face, inching away. “Call me that again.”

“Uh, love...”

“Fuck,” he growls right before he slams his lips against mine. At first, I’m not sure what to do. I’m motionless, confused about what he’s doing. I chalked up the constant staring, the stalking, even the damn flirting to be nothing. And now his lips are on mine.

And he claims to not be gay.

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