It means I was right—that my sexuality isn’t something I can keep ignoring. Kissing Nash felt right in a way no other kiss has. Not even to my ex. The feeling of his lips on mine, of him taking control, of him being the assertive one, made me feel like for thirty-four years I was living in black and white, and he just flipped the world into color.
My hands are tight around the steering wheel, and I keep replaying it on a loop in my mind. And I don’t know what to do with myself. I’m a grown man with a kid and responsibilities and routines. I rebuilt our lives after the last one cracked in half—and somehow this thing with Nash is already feeling like my future.
I want more.
So much more.
More in a way I’ve never craved anything in my life.
I’m ready to let go of the fears, the hesitations, and the what-ifs that usually keep me stuck in place, because there’s something about Nash that makes all those worries vanish.
It’s probably because he’s the exact opposite of my ex-wife in every way.
He’s kind, caring, open, and supportive. And even though I still barely know him, there’s something in my soul that calls to him.
With Nash, nothing feels forced or performative. I don’t have to over explain or shrink myself or pretend to be someone I’m not. I don’t have to play it cool—not that I’ve done a good job at that, anyway.
It’s terrifying how much I already trust those feelings, trust him.
I pull into my driveway and see his name on my phone already.
Nash:
Made it home to finish my work day. Still thinking about that kiss, by the way.
I smile so big it takes over my face, which is becoming an everyday occurrence now. As soon as I get into my living room and drop down onto the couch, I type out my reply.
Same, I want to do it again.
He replies instantly.
Nash:
That can be arranged.
Thank god I also primarily work from home, because if Ihad to be in an office right now, there’d be no way I could act normal around my coworkers.
Wish we could’ve blown off work.
His reply is immediate.
Nash:
I’m not above using sick days for personal fun.
I smile, shaking my head, heart beating faster as I try to flirt back.
You’re distracting, you know that? Ever since we met, you’re all I think about and then you went and kissed me like that. There’s no way I’ll be able to focus on anything other than you.
The typing dots appear. Then stop. Then appear again, and I hold my breath until his message lights up my screen.
Nash:
I’ve never wanted to take someone on a real date and drag them back to bed so badly at the same time.
You don’t have to choose.
Nash: