Page 22 of Wild Fixation
Seth clears away the plates and puts everything in the sink the moment we finish eating.
“Please don’t do my dishes,” I say. “I will never live it down. I can at least handle that much on my own.”
The tiniest hint of a smile tugs at a corner of his mouth. “Fine. How are you feeling?”
“So much better,” I say. “Very nearly like a whole adult human. Though I have to confess, I don’t remember much after we got in the car last night. I hope I didn’t do anything too stupid.”
Something flickers over Seth’s face, there and gone so fast I doubt I ever saw it. “No, you didn’t.”
I want to pry, to figure out what that look meant, but he starts moving toward the door, and I leap up to follow. I catch him at the door itself, taking him by the arm to stop him before he can flee. Seth tenses under my grip, peering down at me.
“I wanted to apologize,” I say. “For what you had to deal with last night. I must have been a handful.”
“It’s my job.”
I shake my head. “You went well beyond a job. You took care of me like … like a good friend would.” I wanted to say something other than “friend,” but luckily managed to hold it back.
“I’m sorry,” he says. “Maybe I crossed a line last night. I shouldn’t have stayed.”
“You should have. I’m glad you did, but next time sleep in the bed, okay? Your back must be killing you.”
His throat bobs as he swallows.
“I-I mean, you should because it’s such a big bed,” I say. “I know you’re not…”
“I’m not?”
“Well, I mean, most of the band is queer and all, but that doesn’t mean you’re… You work for us. I didn’t mean to imply…”
I’m rambling, lost, stumbling through what was meant to be a simple “thank you,” but Seth isn’t pulling away. He isn’t yanking himself free of my hold.
And he isn’t disagreeing.
“I am,” he says quietly.
I blink up at him, my mouth hanging open as I find myself speechless for once. Caring, kind, protective, a good cookandqueer. My heart is a jackhammer trying to punch through my chest as I take in the news. My hand grows sweaty on Seth’s bicep. I gaze up at him, mouth dry, mind whirling through a list of impossibilities that just became a lot more possible.
Before I can stop myself or think or question, I raise myself up on my tip toes. Seth doesn’t back away, simply stands there frozen as I strain to reach him. I close my eyes the instant before I meet his mouth, tasting Seth’s tiny, sharp inhale. Our lips are greasy and slippery, our mouths unsure, unsteady, floundering in this moment that was never supposed to happen. Even as it does, part of my brain screams at me, asking me what the hell I’m doing, what the hell I’m thinking as I kiss my bodyguard, the one man I’m not supposed to have.
The shrieking quiets when Seth’s hand lands on my waist, pulling me ever so gently toward him. That’s all the encouragement I need to sink against his mouth, letting myself fall into him, letting myself have a kiss I assumed was impossible before this moment. I brace by clinging to his arm, and that hand on my waist flinches tighter, like Seth means to pull me against his body—
Then he pushes me away.
In a blink, I’m a step away from him, light-headed and wavering. Seth is wiping at his mouth like he’s trying to scrub that kiss off his lips.
“I’m sorry,” he says.
He’s out the door before I have time to stop him.
Chapter Twelve
Seth
I KISSED MY BOSS.
I’ve replayed it every second since it happened, trying to figure out where I went wrong, how I let it happen, what I could have done differently. Falling against Jacob’s mouth was like surrendering to gravity, and I don’t know if I’ve ever possessed the will to break that kind of hold.
I shouldn’t have told him I’m gay, I decide after going through the events for the entire bus ride back to my car. Luckily, my vehicle is still parked outside the club, and I don’t even have a ticket. My drive home does not help clear my head, however. I keep going back to that tiny moment of confession. Why did I do it? Why didn’t I keep my mouth shut and let him assume I’m straight? If I learned anything in the military, it was how to say nothing and let people assume.
