Page 73 of Strange Lad

Took him long enough to notice. “Thanks,” I grumble.

“What’s wrong? I promise I’ll play for you…eventually. But I’m—”

“It’s not that.”

He folds his arms and wanders over to me. “Okay.”

I sigh and try to gather some much-needed gusto. “You said soon, Oli. To me, soon is like a day or two. Not seven.”

“Oh,” he rasps, arms falling to his sides. Wetting his lips and swallowing, he takes in my outfit again. “Was all this meant to seduce me?”

“Kind of.” I’m being a brat, but can you blame me? I want to fucking kiss him. We aredating.

“I think if we try it now, it’ll be forced and…weird,” he explains, and I agree.

“You’re right. I’m not used to being in a situation like this.”

“Me either.” He pauses. “I’ve been thinking about it, though. Often. And I think when it’s the right moment, it’s the right moment.”

“But are you going to let it happen? I feel like the right moment has happened eighty-seven times this past week.”

His mouth opens, then shuts abruptly. Eyebrows furrowing, he folds his arms again. “Would it help if I said I’m nervous?”

“And I’m not? You’re a fuckingdude.” I laugh at myself, shaking my head and rolling my eyes. “Damn it, Oli. We’re never going to do it unless we justdo it.”

I can secretly admit I’m upset it isn’t going to be like the movies. You know, the ones where the couple launches at each other in a fit of passion, kissing like hungry animals until it eventually leads to dry humping against the wall and shredding clothes. At this point, I’ll take whatever I can get.

“Does it bother you that I’m a guy?” he asks.

“No,” I growl. “I’m nervous because you’re a guyandmy friend. And I really want to kiss you and hold you. I want to doallthe things with you. Everything.” My heart thuds wildly while he considers my words.

Always thinking about what he’s going to say before he says it. Always dissecting the situation like some mad scientist. “Well?” I pry. “Can I just do it?”

“Let’s play.”

I deadpan. “Play.”

“Yes. Our game. It…helps me.”

I pinch the bridge of my nose, briefly showing my frustration before I drop my hand and concede. “Okay, beautiful. Let’s fucking play.”

Oli

Temple Of Love

I’m having chest palpitations.

Full-blown cardiac arrest.

We are sitting side by side on my couch, no barrier between us, and Jorge watches me expectantly. It’s my turn. I don’t know what to ask for—where to start. A million ideas form in my head, but I’m nervous and scared to fuck it up. What if I clam up? What if I physically can’t? These reservations have weighed on my shouldersall week.It’s why I started playing guitar and planted tulip bulbs. It’s why I fucked up a routine oil change at work.

He keeps swiping his tongue over his lips, and his breath is shallow.

Years of unrequited feelings are finally reciprocated, and I don’t know how to handle it. I’m not necessarily afraid he’ll hurt me or not respect my boundaries. I’m afraidI’llwant to push those boundaries if I make it through this. I’ll rush it. I’ll forget that I’m broken.

“Hold my hand,” I whisper.

He takes it immediately, slotting our fingers together and letting them rest on my thigh just like the first time. “Are you alright?” he checks in.

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