Page 61 of Jacked
There’s a knock at my bedroom door and my heart explodes into a gallop, hammering against my rib cage. I wipe my sweaty palms on my jeans and then pull the door open.
I was expecting his usual slutty tank top and gym shorts combo, but fuck me, the tight-fitting t-shirt stretched across his chest and squeezing around his biceps is somehow even sexier. It looks like he might have trimmed his hair, but the usual rough stubble is still present on his chin, just the way I like it. A shy smile twists on his lips and he holds up the saddest bouquet of half-dead flowers I’ve ever seen in my life.
I sputter a laugh and take them.
“Sorry, these were the only flowers they had at the corner store, and I didn’t have time to find a proper flower shop or whatever.”
“Stop it, you’re too fucking cute.” I sniff the wilted flowers and smile wider. Even if they’ll only last another day, they still smell nice. And seriously, he went to the corner store and bought me flowers? Please, be less adorable or we’re never going to make it out of this apartment.
“I didn’t get you anything.” Dammit, I wish I’d asked Cas more about what to actually do on a date with another guy instead of just focusing on the ins-and-outs (pun intended) of anal douching. “Oh, wait.” I turn around and set the flowers on top of my dresser, then pull open the top drawer. “Now, remember, you’re my date right now, not my trainer,” I say before I pull out a few of the fancy, individually wrapped chocolates I stashed in there.
He chuckles as I offer him the chocolates.
“Thank you,” he murmurs, unwrapping one and popping it into his mouth.
After he swallows it, I lean in for a kiss, grinning against his lips as I lick between them.
“Mm, chocolatey,” I tease, loving the way his chest rumbles against mine with his laughter.
“You’ve convinced me, it’s okay to be bad sometimes.” He nuzzles his nose against mine and pecks my lips one more time before letting me go.
“Is it wrong that I kind of love that I’m a bad influence on you?”
We make our way to the door and pause to put our shoes on.
“I think you’re the best influence I’ve ever had, actually,” he says.
“Dude.” It’s all I can say since my throat is tightening up with all the emotion AJ always seems to stir up inside me.
I’ve dated plenty in my life, even been in love a couple of times, but there’s just something about AJ that’s different. Maybe it’s watching his walls come down one brick at a time that makes it feel so damn good every time he drops a hint that he’s feeling this too.
His hand brushes against my lower back as we step out of the apartment. It’s a quick touch, gone almost instantly, but it’s a subtle reminder that this isn’t just two bros going to watch a baseball game, it’s a date.
“Thanks, by the way.” I bump my shoulder against his once we reach the sidewalk and head in the direction of the stadium, which is only about half a mile away.
“For what?” Our hands brush against each other and my fingers twitch with the urge to reach for him. Is that okay? Was the hand-holding a one-time thing or is it fair game now that he broke the seal?
“For asking me on a date, for getting us tickets to the game, for that thing you did with your tongue last night.” I make my voice low and flirty, and he shoots me a heated look.
“No thanks needed for any of it.” His fingers brush mine again, and then he grabs my hand, twining his thick fingers between mine.
“Is it freaking you out at all?” Other than AJ mentioning his feelings over text last week, we haven’t talked about it again. I don’t want to push if he’s not ready. But I’m also fuckingdyingto know where he’s at with everything. We may be long past denial, but is he still confused? Is he struggling to match the old version of himself up with the new one? Is he lying awake at night worrying about what his dad and brother will say when he eventually comes out?
I almost feel guilty that it was easy for me and that I know there won’t be any family drama over my sexuality. But I get the sense that where my attraction to AJ, and guys in a more general sense, came as a little bit of a surprise, his was more like something he’s been fighting without realizing it.
“Honestly?” He drags his free hand over his stubbled jaw. It looks like he reapplied the blue nail polish, which was starting to chip.
“No, lie to me,” I tease, squeezing his hand.
“Taking you on a date feels so natural thatthat’sfucking with my head a little,” he admits. “Do you have any of that going on? Like, every part of this so far feels like I should have been doing it all along and it’s kind of… depressing.”
I hum in understanding. I definitely get what he means. It feels like lost time that it took us both so long to realize we’re bisexual. I smirk at him though, and press myself a little closer as we walk under the pretense of making space for other people on the sidewalk. “But if we’d realized it sooner, we wouldn’t have the fun of all of our firsts together.”
He grunts, and damn does that sound do things to me.
“That’s a pretty good silver lining,” he admits.
I want to lick his earlobe, maybe pull him to a stop and kiss him again, but I resist the urge. I’m not sure he’s ready for such blatant PDA. Maybe he’ll never be that kind of guy. That’s okay. I can save all the licking and kissing for behind closed doors.
