Page 35 of The Bro Date
Last night was a literal dream, and I somewhat question whether it actually happened, but then I roll over, bumping into a hard body that smells like citrus, bergamot, and sweat.
Shane.
He kissed me last night. Actually fucking kissed me. And not just in my dreams. My morning wood thickens, poking his leg before I quickly pull my hips back.
Whoops.
I glance over and make sure his eyes are closed before carefully pulling the covers back and crawling out of bed. My mouth feels like I passed out on the beach and swallowed a gallon of sand. I’m desperate for one of the water bottles I keep in the mini fridge by my desk.
Twisting the cap off, I close my eyes and chug, loudly crinkling the plastic as I suck the water down. I can’t help it, I’m dehydrated.
“Ahh,” I exhale, tossing the empty bottle into the trash.
A throat clears behind me, and I nearly jump out of my skin when I spin around to find Shane sitting up in bed with a smirk and a raised eyebrow.
I glance down, forgetting I’m in nothing but a little black thong and completely exposed.
“Shit! Shit! Shit!”
My hands dart in front of my junk even though he just got a full moon for God knows how long.
“You weren’t this shy last night,” Shane chuckles, his deep voice rough with sleep. Dark eyes roam my exposed skin as if he likes what he sees, and after that kiss, maybe he does.
Because straight boys don’t make out with their best friends for no reason.Right?
“I obviously had a couple drinks, so I didn’t care about being ninety-five percent naked in front of you like I do right now.” I shuffle over to my dresser and grab a clean pair of basketball shorts, slipping them on before sitting back on the bed next to Shane.
“I see. And how do you feel about kissing me? Do you regret it?”
“What? No! Of course not.” Panic starts to creep in when he continues to stare at me. “Why? Do you?”
Please say no. Please say no. Please say no.
“No.”
Oh, thank God.
I hope the relief on my face isn’t too obvious.
“It was nice.”
Warmth blooms in my heart and in my cheeks, hope blossoming to life at the thought of kissing him again.
“A little confusing for me, but nice,” Shane adds.
I know what it’s like to be confused and question your sexuality. It’s completely draining and isolating, and I don’t want that for Shane. “I’m sorry,” I whisper.
“Hey,” he says, leaning forward in bed and cupping my cheek with his rough palm. “Donotapologize. I kissedyou. Because I wanted to . . .”
My heartbeat whooshes in my ears, and I feel dizzy at his words.
How is this actually happening right now?
“Because I worry about you, Toby. You can’t meet up with random guys.”
Ohhh. I get it now.
“So, it was a pity kiss?” My voice cracks on the last word, and I glance away, fighting the tears threatening to spill over.
