Page 39 of Jacked
“Oh, right. Duh.”
“Happy birthday.” I give him one more squeeze.
“Um, excuse me.” Fender leans across the table with a wolfish grin, eyeing me as soon as I let go of Butch. “Are we witnessing a real time bi-awakening or are you just torturing all of the poor gays here with false hope?”
My heart races and my hands tremble, but my smile only gets wider. This is it. I can do this. I can feel the heat of AJ’s body next to me and, fuck, I want to reach over and squeeze his hand. I want to know what he’s thinking before I blurt it out to everyone else, but I want this moment too. I want the thrill of saying it out loud and knowing that these guys, my friends, are going to like me exactly the same.
“Yeah,” I shout over the music, feeling fizzy and electric and about ten feet tall. “I’m bi.”
“Good for you, man.” Silas is the closest, and he holds his fist out for a congratulatory bump.
“Hell yeah, you are,” Fender cheers, rising out of his chair fully to pour me a beer.
I take the drink and the rest of the guys all shout similar encouragement and praise, but it’s all lost to the noise of the club as I look over my shoulder to see that AJ is winding back through the crowd towards the bar.
“I’ll be right back,” I mutter, setting my drink back on the table and following him.
AJ
It feels like there’s a live wire under my skin. The second I saw Slater’s shirt it was like my brain went completely offline. I couldn’t think of a single thing to say. I couldn’t even remember how to string words together into sentences that didn’t sound completely idiotic. For a minute I wondered if he was fucking with me. I thought it was meant as a joke or a funny way to blend in tonight at the club.
“I’m bi.”
“I’m bi.”
“I’m bi.”
His answer to Fender echoes over and over in my head as I lean over the bar and flag down the bartender.
“What can I get you, sunshine?” he asks, batting his long, glittery eyelashes at me.
“Something strong,” I say, my voice sounding gruff and full of gravel.
A warm hand lands on my shoulder and I jump.
“Sorry,” Slater says, pulling his hand back immediately.
“It’s fine,” I murmur, bouncing one leg and watching the bartender mix a Long Island Iced Tea for me. The music is so damn loud I can barely hear my own thoughts, but maybe that’s a good thing. They’re too twisted up and fucking confused right now anyway.
Slater leans in closer and his hot breath ghosts over my skin. Goose bumps rise and my nipples tighten. How long has he been bi? The whole time? Was the whole jerking off together thing a trick to fuck with the straight guy? I don’t think that’s what’s really twisting my stomach into knots though. Why did he tell them before he told me?
“Can we talk?” he asks, closer to my ear this time.
“Kind of loud in here to talk.” I take the drink the bartender passes me and toss some cash onto the bar.
Slater’s hand lands on my forearm this time, and a strange sense of relief rushes through me. I’ve been in my head all damn week wondering why there’s been this massive distance between us all of a sudden. I couldn’t stop wondering if I was just being paranoid. Maybe he had never been as touchy as I was remembering, or maybe I really had done something to make him feel weird. Maybe he could see it written all over my damn face that I couldn’t stop thinking about how it felt to have his hot skin touching mine when we jerked off.
I almost choke on that thought, shaking it off and then washing it down with a few gulps of my drink. The alcohol hits my tongue with a burn and settles hot in my gut.
“The stuff we’ve been doing together, it’s been messing with my head,” he says, squeezing my arm a little tighter.
I meet his eyes and they’re full of determination. Shit, why do I like that look on him so much? It’s such a contrast to his usual laid-back vibe, and there’s something about it that feels intense in all the right ways. My heart goes fucking wild, and I have no idea what to say, but he saves me from having to figure it out by continuing.
“I wasn’t lying to you in the beginning. I thought I was straight until…” He licks his lips and looks away for a second. I hold my breath, hanging on his words even though every one is making my head spin worse. Or maybe that’s the Long Island I keep guzzling down. “Until you.”
Knots, knots, knots. Is this real? The urge to look over towards the guys just to see if they’re watching and laughing is strong. I know it’s not true, but that doesn’t completely shut down the little voice in the back of my head telling me this is some kind of test. Like if I tell him I’ve been confused too, he’ll take it all back and laugh.
“Slater,” I choke out his name, but don’t manage to say anything else.
