Page 41 of Beneath the Indigo Sky

“You’re my friend. You’re my friend, and I thought you were straight.”

His voice is broken and harsh, and he stops like that’s enough, but it’s not. It’s not nearly enough. He’s my friend, and I’ve always thought he was straight as well. Hell, a part of me still thinks he is, but I fell in love with him anyway. I’ve always known I was in love with him. For the first time in my life, I’m not sure I can trust what I’m feeling.

“Jayce. It doesn’t work like that. That’s not…that’s not an explanation. What I’m feeling from you doesn’t just appear in an instant. Am I wrong? Is what I’m feeling wrong?”

He shakes his head, eyes bright with tears that threaten to fall.

“I don’t think you’re wrong about anything. I think you know what I’m feeling. I hope you do anyway, and I don’t think feelings like this just appear out of nowhere either. I think I’ve had them for a long time, I just honestly didn’t realize it. I hid them away, even from myself. I didn’t know I still had them until I saw you last night.”

“Still?” My voice is a whisper. Still.

“I mean, there was a moment a few months ago when I let myself think…maybe, just maybe. But then, like I said, you're my friend, and I thought you were straight, so I just forced myself to shut it down. I spent plenty of years in my youth living in a fog of unrequited love. It wasn’t exactly enjoyable. So, I just sort of learned to turn that part of myself off whenever I'm starting to feel anything even remotely…romantic. It hasn't happened a lot, thank God, but there have been a couple of times over the years. I guess that with you, I managed to hide what I felt from even myself instead of erasing it completely. I mean, it happened so slowly that until I saw you last night, I just told myself it was friendship. I believed myself when I said it was only friendship.”

I'm stunned into silence. Even though the pressure in my chest and the ache in my stomach over thepast few weeks have been nearly unbearable as I’ve fought to ignore what it would be like to build a life with Jayce, and okay, yeah, even though last night was maybe the worst moment of my life, I can't imagine giving it all up. I can’t imagine having the strength to kill the tiny ember of happiness and hope that had sparked inside me when I'd opened the office door and found Jayce looking for his jacket. I don’t think I could have smothered it into non-existence. I’d never have gotten to experience all the beauty that has come with the pain. I don’t know how he’s had the strength to do that each time he’s felt some small spark of hope appear.

Jayce is staring at me in the silence. His hand has left my knee, and his fingers are twisting on themselves anxiously.

“The day you showed me your studio.” My whisper seems to fill the small room.

His eyes blow wide, and his fingers freeze.

“You noticed that? You really do feel…everything.”

I can only nod. What if I hadn’t been so scared that day? What if I’d let myself lean into him? Touch him. Kiss him.

“You really remember that?” He sounds almost awed.

The rush of warmth that travels through me at the memory is my own.

“Of course I remember. It’s hard to forget the moment when you think there might just be a chance that you’ll get what you’ve been hoping for.”

Color rises across his cheeks.

“You wanted…you want me too?”

I can see his heartbeat racing in the side of his neck, and he’s leaning ever so slightly toward me. I’ve never felt like this before and worry that my heart might explode as my voice comes out in a deep, harsh whisper.

“Please.”

Jayce

Please.

He said please. Did I really hear him say that? Namid wants me too?

His face is so open, and his eyes are so blue, so deep and dark and indigo. There is red there too. That’s my fault. I’m the reason he spent last night thinking he’d lost a friend. No. Not just a friend. Someone he wants. Someone he…loves? His lips are slightly parted, and he’s leaning ever so slightly toward me, and he might just let me.

My fingertips hover in the bright ray of light that streams in through the window. They’re so close. He’s so close. I bite my lower lip as I let them slide to trace along the stubble of his jaw. I’ve never seen him unshaven before. It’s dark, as black as his hair, and rough on the pads of my fingers. His eyelids flutter when our skin meets, and I swear his head leans into my hand.

My fingertips trail down the side of his neck, and his heart is racing so quickly under my touch. His eyelashes are so long and black, and his lips look so soft.

Is he closer now? He’s closer now, and his hand is on my thigh. Jesus, his hand is on my thigh. I’ve never wanted anyone like this, never known it was possible to want someone this much. The ache that has lived in the pit of my stomach my entire life, the fear that I’d always be alone, that I’d never get to know what it feels like to fall in love, is suddenly gone, and there are butterflies in its place, and they are so fluttery and bright, and he’s so very close.

When my lips brush his, the world no longer exists. There is nothing other than the smoothness of his skin and the warmth of his breath as he exhales sharply. I inhale, taking his breath into my lungs as if he’s the only thing keeping me alive.

His hand is resting over mine against his throat, long fingers curling tightly, clutching at me like he’s afraid to let go. His grip is strong, stronger than I’d expected, and I want him to overpower me. I want him to consume me. I want to be his. Only his.

His mouth parts, and his tongue traces my bottom lip, tender and slow, and I let his body into mine without hesitation. The sensation of our tongues and breath and skin together drags a moan from deep in my chest, and then he’s moving. He surges forward and swallows my moan with his kiss. He pushes me back against the couch, his lips and his body desperate and hungry as he moves to straddle me, knees tucked in against my sides as he lowers himself to my lap, the fingers of his free hand gripping the back of my neck. I clutch at his hip, tugging him against me tighter and tighter, erasing the space between our bodies.

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