Page 54 of Perfectly Us
“That’s my line.” I roll my eyes at him even though he can’t see. It’s an automatic response with him sometimes. My heart gets kind of heavy. “I told him about Clay.”
“Are you okay?” Ruben asks, sitting up in bed to look over at me.
“Yeah.”
“We can cuddle if ya want.”
I snort. “No, thanks. I know you haven’t showered since you and Mel went at it. I don’t want my innocence to be tainted.”
“Innocence.” Ruben scoffs. “Says the gay version of Casanova.”
“I’m surprised you know who that is.”
“Shut up.” He doesn’t have anything else within reach, so he throws a sock at me. It hits the floor before reaching me, and I imagine it slithering away to get away from his nasty-ass smelly feet.
My phone lights up from where I placed it beside me on the couch.
Shiloh:I know I already said goodnight, but I just got home and wanted to tell you I had a blast today.
Me:Me too :)
Even with all the emotional shit, like him opening up to me about maybe being asexual and me telling him about Clay, it was still an amazing day.
I think those things made it even more so.
I feel closer to Shiloh now. He’s not just a hot guy I want to bang anymore. He’s so much more. That light inside him shines so bright when we’re together, like he’s a lighthouse and I’m the ship sailing toward him.
I swear, when he’s with me, I can’t look away.
***
The theater is packed. A typical Friday night. When it’s so damn hot outside there’s nothing better than escaping to an air-conditioned, dark theater with some snacks and a good movie. It’s also date night.
Couples come in holding hands, some to watch the new rom-com and others to see a slasher film.
“Is it really scary?” a girl asks after I tear her ticket at the podium.
The only thing scary about the new slasher movie is the acting. By the middle of it, I was even rooting for the killer just so everyone would die and it could end.
“Didn’t scare me, but you never know.” I smile. “It will be in theater eight to your right. Enjoy the movie!”
The guy with her puts his arm around her waist almost possessively and gives me a pissy look as they walk past the podium. Like dude, I’m gay. I don’t want your girlfriend. It’s probably the hardest part about this job, keeping my snarky-ass comments to myself.
It’s amidst this inward ramble when I see a familiar face in the lobby. Damn if my mood doesn’t instantly improve.
Shiloh approaches me, a smile lighting his face as soon as our eyes meet. I melt a little at that. He used to have trouble making eye contact with me, and now he’s walking toward me, his shoulders back instead of hunched forward like he’s trying to hide.
“Hey, you,” I say.
“Hey back.” Shiloh rests an arm on top of the podium. He’s wearing a red shirt, which I love because it looks so good with his skin tone and dark hair. “How’s it going?”
“Better now that you’re here.”
A few days have passed since that night in his room where we confessed how we felt about each other. We haven’t given a name to what we are, whether we’re boyfriends, casually dating, or just hanging out. I don’t think we need a name for it, at least not right now.
We’re just us.
“Are you flirting with me?” Shiloh asks. “I should have you know I’m kinda seeing someone. He’s about ye high.” He puts a hand near his chin. “And he’s feisty, so you better watch out.”
