Page 36 of Fresh Start
So, after year two, Dawson and I had drifted apart because Dawson had made more close friends, and I suspected admitting my feelings to the guy hadn't made things any easier. Despite Dawson's reaction, I’d lost any hope of ever getting on his radar or his pants. Yet the love I'd felt for him wouldn't go away.
That same night when I'd decided to move on with my life and stop obsessing over a straight guy, we’d ended up at a house party in the dorms and had a drink. One drink became two. And two drinks had turned into a night of tender lovemaking, waking up in each other's arms, unable to let each other go.
It had felt like a dream. Having the man I'd lost so much sleep over for two years finally within reach. It was the happiest I’d ever felt. As if all the pieces of my heart that had broken apart over years of abuse, bullying, and insecurities had been put back together. But knowing Dawson, I knew it might not last. So, I’d decided to enjoy it while it did because Dawson hadn't struck me like the relationship kind of guy.
Yet somehow, we’d made it all the way to the end of drama school. All the way through the third year, growing closer and closer but never calling each other boyfriend. We’d both been in the closet at the time and had decided to keep our affair inside it too. And I was fine with that at the time.
As much as some tabloids took joy at calling me everything but a flaming queen, I’d never wanted my sexuality to dilute my career potential, and Dawson had felt the same way. Despite everything, we were happy with each other.
But as with most fairy tales, all good things come to an end. Because at the end of the third year, on the most important day for both of us, it had all come tumbling down.
A knock on the door brought me back from my trip down memory lane. I felt it vibrate on my spine as I stood with my back against the door.
It was probably Melody’s housekeeper on the morning rounds. I didn't want to leave the room and risk seeing Dawson again. That kiss had confused me. I didn't know how I felt about it, nor how I felt about Dawson.
Without thinking too much about it, I opened the door, ready to ask them to skip this room, but instead of the housekeeper, I found Dawson standing at my doorstep.
His eyes were red, and his demeanor defeated. I hadn't seen him like that over the last few days. He seemed to be struggling with something, his fingers fumbling in front of him, but the more he fumbled, the sorrier I felt for him. Whatever it was he was there for, it wasn't easy.
"Leo, I'm…" Dawson finally spoke, his words no louder than a whisper. Before he could finish his sentence, the housekeeper behind him wheeled her cart and knocked Dawson on his behind, because Dawson lost his balance and fell on me, and we ended up on the floor.
“Ouch,” I said, my back burning from the impact with the floor.
Dawson's sapphire blue eyes locked with mine with so much want and need. I couldn't look away from them.
"Oh my God. Are you okay?" I heard the housekeeper say, but I ignored her.
I continued to look into Dawson's eyes. It didn't look like we were going anywhere. And I wasn't so sure I wanted him to leave. When I finally took my eyes off Dawson and looked down at his mouth, the kiss from earlier sparked something inside me, and I craved for his lips again.
Without much effort, I lifted my head and touched my lips to Dawson's. Softly at first, but I became wrought with passion very quickly.
I let go of all my concerns and allowed myself to feel good under Dawson's body. I was finding it really hard to remember why I was upset with this stunning man and why I had ever let him go.
"Oh. Oh. I’ll be off then. I’m guessing your room won’t need changing for a while,” the housekeeper said and rolled away with her cart.
With that, I ended the kiss. I pulled away from Dawson and laughed. He smiled, but it wasn't one of those million-dollar smiles that he flashed for the cameras. It was a guilty smile. A smile that said way too many things all at the same time. It was like a picture. That smile might not be worth a million dollars, but it was worth a thousand words.
Dawson stood up, helping me off the floor.
"I'm sorry," he said.
There they were, those eyes I couldn't help forgiving.
"I'm not," I replied and grabbed Dawson by his T-shirt, pulling him closer. At the same time, I closed the door with my other hand so I could give us some privacy. I returned my mouth to its rightful position, back on Dawson's, and my hands explored his upper body.
It had indeed changed so much since we’d last been together. Gone was the scrawny kid from Chicago who wanted to be a superstar. In front of me, an actual star was standing. A man who'd made all his dreams come true.
Dawson got into the rhythm of the kiss and pushed himself off the wall, leading me to the bed without breaking away from my lips. He helped lower me onto the mattress and moved his kisses down my neck.
"I hate what you do to me. Even after all these years," I whispered.
My admission was followed by a moan. Dawson sat on top of me and helped take off my T-shirt. Once that article of clothing was out of the way, he pinned my hands to my sides and kissed my chest.
Having Dawson sitting on top of me with both our erections rubbing against each other, it was like we were back in drama school. As if there hadn’t been a day before our last naked encounter.
Yet, despite the feeling, I felt different. Grown-up. Being with Dawson now after all these years, after all we’d been through together, and separately, it felt more right than it had ever felt when we were just twenty-one.
Each of Dawson's kisses was like letting go of everything the man had done to hurt me in the past, and it felt good.
