Page 49 of Your Only Fan
“Definitely. I’ll be there at 8,”I finally respond.
Rivera is never going to notice me, and even if he did, why would anyone jeopardize their job for a guy like me?
Maybe tonight will be the start of something new and exciting. And who knows? Maybe I’ll even return next semester completely over Rivera and happily attached to Mr. X.
Julian decides to go back to his dorm and order a hookup—his words, not mine—so I head back home to prepare for tonight.
I think about X. What he’ll be like. What his face will feel like under my hand. The color of his eyes. The shape of his nose.
“Agh. I’m getting ahead of myself,” I grumble under the shower.
The steaming water trickles down my back and front with wild abandon, taking with it all the worries of the day and leaving space for the excitements yet to come.
When I reach his door later that night, I’m so ready for what’s about to happen. I’ve been sleeping with X for three months, and in that time, I have learned not just enough about his body and his needs, but a little bit about him, too.
He’s thrifty with the details he shares, being as vague as humanly possible, but I’ve come to know who he is.
He’s the kind of man who wants to please and satisfy at all times.
The kind of man that will look after you when you’re not feeling like yourself, and who will hold you while you fall asleep in his arms.
As I open the door and come face to face with the pitch black inside, I realize maybe I haven’t needed to see his face to fall in love with him.
Which sounds pathetic. But at least he’s attainable. At least he’s been andcan bewith me. Whereas Isaac Rivera is a teacher with his own, exciting life and who wouldn’t even turn to give me a second glance.
I let my eyes adjust to the darkness, the light of the digital clock from the oven giving a gentle guidance toward the bedroom.
When I get there, I have to navigate blindly. The curtains have been drawn heavy over the windows. The alarm clock that was near his bed up until last time is nowhere to be seen.
I’m not exactly sure why he wants to sleep with me first before he shows me his face, but if that’s what it takes to find out who he is, then I’m happy to oblige.
Something hits my knees and I fall on the bed, over X’s legs.
He laughs. And I can’t help but laugh, too. His sound is warm and wholesome, so how can I resist?
“Hey,” he says.
“Hey back,” I reply and follow the trail up to the top of the bed, finding his neck, his head, his face.
I run a hand over the side, over his hair. It’s short, curly, and it snaps back when I pull and as I trace across to the back.
I had a suspicion that he was African American, but I didn’t want to assume just because his skin is darker than mine. But those curls are gorgeous and unmistakable.
I dip down to take his lips in mine, to have a taste of him, but I get his nose instead.
Using my free hand, I touch his cheek and find his mouth.
“There we are,” I say and make another attempt.
I’ve kissed him before, but this time, it feels different. It feels deeper, juicier, more inviting. I don’t know what it is, but I can make a few guesses, the first one being he’s finally letting himself open up to me.
“I’m sorry. This was sexier in my head,” he says when I release his lips.
I chuckle.
“It is. I like it. It’s like an adventure. Like dining in the dark but with sex,” I say.
“I have no idea what that is,” he says.
“That’s okay. Maybe I can take you one day.”
“I’d like that,” he replies.
I kiss him again. And again. And again.
Is he the man I’ve been waiting for all my life?
I guess we’re about to find out.
