Page 19 of Depths of Desire
Or maybe he was lying there, wondering what the hell was taking me so long.
I reached for the knob a third time, this time switching it off.
Darkness swallowed the room.
Immediately, everything felt closer. The bed, the walls, and Oliver. My ears filled with the sound of my own heartbeat, steady and a little too loud. Could he hear it? God, he would think I was a total freak. “The loudest heart in the whole wide world,” he’d say. Or he wouldn’t. He would just think it because the fucker never said anything.
I closed my eyes and tried to think of neutral things. Ice rinks. Team drills. The time my dad tried to deep-fry a turkey and nearly took out the garage.
But none of it worked. All I could think about was the warmth of the bed, the bare inches of space between us, and how completely screwed I was if I let myself forget, even for a second, that this was a one-night-only kind of situation.
Still, it was going to be a very long night.
A warm, quiet, definitely too-small-bed kind of long night.
And the worst part was that I didn’t want to sleep.
I wanted to turn around and look at him.
I wanted to see if he was awake, too.
And I really, really shouldn’t.
So I squeezed my eyes shut, and they felt grainy and full of sand. The current ran through me just as hard as it had before, buzzing and making every cell in my body feel like it was alight.
My biggest mistake had been not hooking up with anyone before this trip. Firstly, I should have done it just to draw some strength and confidence for a week with family; secondly, I had known that Oliver would be with me all day. I should have thought of this possibility. Hell, I should have at least thought that his presence in the car could be too much to take if I was low-key horny on top of it.
I should have gone out last night. Should have taken care of this.
“Do you mind?” Oliver said quietly.
What? I frowned. “Mind? Of course not. I don’t mind this at all.”
I was about to force a laugh, but Oliver turned on his back with a sigh. “Your foot, Lennox.”
Odd how you could sometimes forget about a part of your own body. Where indeed was the separation between the body and mind, anyway? My foot was definitely independent now. It was hanging off the edge of the bed, shaking and wagging so hard that the entire mattress jiggled, and I hadn’t even noticed. “Oh. Sorry.”
The darkness had lasted long enough that my eyes had adjusted to it. A distant firelight added its glow. In this nightly haze, I could see his face almost clearly when I shot him a guilty look.
“Alright, I’m low-key nervous,” I said, unprompted.
Oliver gave me a long look. “Low-key nervous,” he repeated, his voice dry. “You?”
I flopped onto my back and stared at the ceiling, even though I couldn’t see a damn thing anymore. “Look, I know we’re grown men. I know it’s just a bed. I know that. But you were kind of my adolescent crisis, so maybe give me a second to adjust.” Did I say this fucking aloud? I seriously couldn’t put up with myself anymore.
There was a pause. Then he said, “I wasn’t even out in high school.”
“Exactly,” I said. “That was part of the problem.”
I felt, rather than saw, his head turn toward me. “So…you had a crush?”
“No. I had the crush. It was traumatic. CapitalT. You wore Speedos, for God’s sake. That should be illegal in suburban environments.”
He let out a quiet laugh. “I wasn’t even aware you existed.”
“That’s what made it worse,” I half whimpered. Then, hearing his words in my head all over again, I added, “Thanks for that, by the way.”
I felt the sheets shift as he moved. Then his voice, closer. “And now?”
