Page 26 of A Minute More

Suddenly, I’m jolting back, my breath coming out in a wheeze, my eyes snapping open.

Simon’s standing there, looking dazed and confused, his lips puffy and wet, his cheeks stained pink.

“Fuck,” I mutter, running a shaking hand down my face. God, I’ve never even considered kissing a dude, and here I am, letting one just stick his tongue down my throat.

That’s not fair to him though.

I’m not gay. I need to tell him.

My mouth opens to form the words, but they die on my tongue. The way Simon looks, spread wide open, everything exposed in his eyes, on his face. I can see it all. The need, the yearning that he’s been hiding.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers when I make no move to kiss him again. “Shit… I don’t even know if you’re….”

He doesn’t need to say it, he knows it all the same. His eyes widen and mortification tumbles across his face, his cheeks turning a dark red.

“Oh fuck,” he mutters, turning around and moving toward the door. “I’m sorry. I have to—”

His words are cut off as he wrenches the door open and the sounds from the first floor filter their way up to us.

“Wait,” I say, but it’s too late. He’s running down the stairs, his body just a blur of color as I give chase.

I bump into a few people on my way through the crowd, muttering apologies that get lost in the thumping of the music, but I don’t even care. I move toward the front door that’s been flung open and see Simon jogging toward his car, so I pick up my pace.

“Simon!” I shout and he stumbles forward, his stride almost seeming to lengthen. I’m not sure how that’s possible, but then again, he’s a runner. I saw him that day in the park.

I hear a clatter on the ground, and I see his keys on the pavement, slowing him significantly. It gives me the advantage, and I barrel into him, grabbing on to his shoulders and pulling him into me.

Both of our chests are heaving, a bead of sweat moving down his face. He looks wrecked, utterly torn, and I can do nothing but bring him in for a hug.

“Hey, it’s fine. It’s okay.”

He lets out a shaky exhale, his face turning into my neck for just a second before he pulls away.

“Let go of me.”

I do, my arms relaxing around him and then dropping to my side. As he moves away from me, I feel the absence of him palpably—can feel it in the hidden spaces of my chest, can feel it in the pauses of my breath.

“Come back inside and let’s hang out.”

“No,” he shakes his head, swiping at his mouth and turning around again, moving to his car on shaky legs.

I don’t want him to go. I want him to stay. How can I make him stay?

“Please don’t go…I don’t care…that you’re gay.”

He stumbles to a stop, then wrenches his car door open, and slides inside. He doesn’t even acknowledge me, just pulls away from the curb, leaving me to stand there and watch him drive away.

My hands thread through my hair as I let out an audible groan. What the fuck did I do?

CHAPTER4

WESLEY

For the first time since Simon started at the Greatest Wich, he calls out sick. I think it’s because today was our first shift together sincethe kiss—when he pressed against me and slid his tongue into my mouth.

Thinking about it even now makes my entire body tremble with something I can’t describe. It has to be horror at letting another man plant his lips on me like that, but I can’t be entirely sure. I need to sit with it for a little longer, to analyze it like a scientist.

Not that I’m that smart. Fuck. But him calling out sick makes a part of me riot. And the disappointment roiling through me at his absence has soured my mood. I can barely manage a smile while working, and Izzy takes notice.

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