Page 61 of A Minute More

Simon gasps, his face showing how surprised he is at my response.

“You’re kidding me?”

“No. I like it. It’s flattering and I’m glad you did it…because I got to know you. Imagine if you hadn’t been a stalker. What then? I’d never know I like dick.”

He lets out a small laugh and then it erupts into a full-bellied guffaw. He’s pushed away from me, bent over and grabbing on to his stomach as he laughs loudly. And I just stand there, watching it. It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.

When he finally stops, wiping the tears from his eyes, he looks so much younger, so much lighter.

I want to make him laugh like this every day. I want him bright and illuminated. I want him free. Gently, I reach out and touch his face, my thumb brushing over his bottom lip.

He leans into my palm and sighs. “Goddamn you, Wesley.”

I smirk and then lean in, pressing my lips to his temple.

“You fucking love me.”

His lips twitch and his eyes slide away, back to his sandwich. I probably shouldn’t have saidthat, but it’s too late to take it back now.

“I like you. A lot. More than I should,” he admits, and my heart grows double the size at his admission. “But I need to work on some things…need to come to terms with my…with things.”

“Can I be a part of your life while you do that? While you come to terms with things?”

“I don’t know. I was playing with fire getting that job with you and now look at me….”

I do. I look at him. “You look perfect to me.”

His ears turn pink, and I bite my bottom lip at how adorable he is.

“Let me think on it, okay? Can I think on it?”

I nod my head and then pull him in for another hug. He grabs on to me tightly and turns his face into my neck. We stand there for a long time, just holding one another until it’s time for me to leave.

I do it reluctantly, but also wanting to let him have the time he needs to figure his shit out.

What shit? I don’t know. It’s something I don’t understand but hope to one day figure out.

I hope one day he lets me in.

* * *

“How long has it been?” Jude asks me, and I lean against the park bench, struggling to breathe. We took up running the past three days and it’s been fucking miserable. Did I do this to myself because I hoped to run into Simon on this damnable park trail again? Perhaps. He’s called out of work the past two shifts, leaving me confused and miserable.

So are my heart and my dick. Both don’t know what to do with themselves.

“Five days,” I mutter.

“Shit. And he hasn’t called or messaged?”

“No,” I say glumly.

Not that I haven’t called. And texted. Even sent up a prayer once. But no response. Simon’s avoided me like the plague. I don’t know what I did to make him put distance between us, but when I left his apartment last week, I expected to see him at work at the very least. But when he didn’t show up for his shift, I knew he was doing this to evade me.

Me. When I’ve done nothing wrong. I’ve done nothing but want him.

I don’t know where I went wrong, but his lack of response is starting to make me angry. And it takes a lot for me to get to this point. Usually I’m easy-going and go with the flow, but Simon leaving me on “read” and not responding to my messages is making me grumpy.

I’m the grumpiest.

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