Page 24 of Curious
“I brought you dinner,” he says, and joy bubbles up inside me.
“Wow. Thank you.”
I like having Shelby around. While I grew up in a noisy house, I’d gotten used to the quiet of living on my own. But it was lonely.
He’s not loud or obtrusive, but he is a presence. A kind one. Even in the short period of time he’s been here, Shelby has done thoughtful things for me. On top of the big, obvious one, that is. Like, he walks in and starts washing the coffee mugs that were in the sink. Last night, along with bringing me dinner and crutches, he stocked up on a few food staples that I was out of.
He also isn’t making me feel like an invalid, even though he’s caring for me. After he finishes puttering around in the kitchen, he brings me a glass of ice water and some Aleve.
I’m not totally sure how I found this guy, but I like him.
Shelby’s wearing black leggings with a tight T-shirt, and the close-fitting garments show off his body. I find myself looking at him. At the way his legs flex. The way his butt is kind of cute, actually. The way a sliver of his skin shows above the leggings and below the hem of his shirt. I also find myself wondering what he looks like without clothes.
Is that even okay, based on our rules?
I was raised to believe same-sex relationships are nothing out of the ordinary—both my siblings came out by the time they were fourteen, plus my parents have friends who are in same-sex couples, so we’ve always been accustomed to non-heteronormative relationships. But it’s very weird for me to be perving on my … husband.
Well, when I put it that way, it seems verynormalto be perving on him.Notogling my husband would be the odd thing, though I’m not going to disrespect him and make it obvious.
But I think I’m attracted to him. He’s got a gorgeous smile, white teeth, and dark eyes that are so full of life.
He brings cartons of delicious-smelling Chinese food over to the coffee table, then fusses with plates, dishing up servings for both of us. When he pauses to survey his work, I tug him by the back of his waistband, which startles him into sitting on my lap. “What?” he yelps.
“Oh my god, did I get one of your bruises?” I start inspecting his arms for any painful spots I might have touched.
“No. You just surprised me.”
“It’s good to see you.”
He gives me a hug. “Same.” He’s careful not to jostle my ankle, and he’s light in my lap. He’s making my cock wake up, despite the pain in my foot.
But he moves and sits next to me, and with the distraction of our dinner, all is forgotten. We chat about his day, and he tells me he made me a doctor’s appointment for tomorrow, and something about that simple act loosens the stress that’s been overtaking me.
I will get better.
For now, I pass him some egg rolls, and we eat them with way too much sweet-and-sour sauce, laughing because everything gets a bit sticky.
Once our plates are empty, we crack open our fortune cookies.
“What does yours say?” I ask.
Shelby holds up the little white slip. “You are kind, and people like you.”
“While that’s true, it’s more of an affirmation cookie, not a fortune cookie.”
He laughs. “I’m going to buy more of these. They tell me what I want to hear. What does yours say?”
“Be careful in matters of the heart.” I frown. “That’s an advice cookie. Not a fortune cookie.”
“Ha. Well, maybe it’s good advice.” Shelby takes the two slips of paper and puts them on the table. He picks up our plates and cleans up, forbidding me to stand. Then he returns and curls next to me on the couch like a kitten. I wrap an arm around his shoulder and bury my face in his hair.
“Did you just sniff my hair?” he asks.
“Kinda, yeah. You always smell really good.”
“I do, don’t I?”
I chuckle. He reaches for the remote, moving away from me to do so, and I make this weird noise I don’t think I’ve ever made before. Kind of a whine.
