Page 8 of Pretty Obsessed

He was the most beautiful boy I'd ever laid eyes on. He could have come out of a Vogue ad campaign with those cheekbones and gray eyes, even sitting here writing, not caring how he looked. How his face wasn't plastered all over the internet blew my mind. His books were probably better known than my music. A secret I didn't want the rest of the world to know.

Reality came back to me. What had I been thinking? I glanced around the club, glad to find it mostly empty. It was a weeknight and late. Normal folks had to work.

I kept to high profile places because when I couldn't stand my celibacy anymore, they were less risk. But nothing eliminated the risk entirely. No matter how many NDAs were signed, I'd still taken an insane risk, and I wasn't talking about the BJ. If it came out I was gay… well, bisexual, but it didn't matter. It would be splashed all over the tabloids.

It was already speculated about. There were five of us in the band. No way we could all be straight. It had been discussed and dissected since the start.

Not even the guys in the band knew. I'd thought I was for a long time, but our success made it impossible to properly explore without it being open for public consumption. It was hard enough to admit to myself.

And then I'd donethat.

Right in the open.

But I couldn't bring myself to move. We stayed there, forehead to forehead. He breathed hard like he'd come as well, but a glance to the bulge in his jeans told me he hadn't. I wanted his cock in my mouth, something I’d never imagined doing.

"Thank you," I repeated.

What else did one say in these kinds of situations? Thanks for kissing me while I got head from a prostitute? I'd like to do it again, want my number? Not exactly a segue into a second date.

I braced for a bad reaction, but it never came. He smiled and swallowed, lips transforming into the most poetic smile as a flush crept down his neck. I could have written songs about the shade of his skin alone. Attraction to men aside, this one was like no other I'd seen.

He made me want to date men. No, not men— just him.

I wanted to worship at the altar of Emory. I could have stayed in a hotel room with him for a year and never wanted to leave. Content to bask in the glow of his warm flesh.

"Thank you, River." The girl who'd been on her knees, Lavender maybe, got to her feet.

Drats, I was at risk of being rude to the poor girl doing her job. I glanced between the two of them. He stood, a fire under his ass once the moment was broken. I joined him, tucking myself into my boxers.

What a conundrum and near-impossible situation. I wasn't good at awkward. I turned stoic when faced with saying the wrong thing. Not because I didn't want to speak, but because I'd grown too used to a backhand when I rambled.

"It was good to meet you, Lavender. I left you a large tip…" I didn't want to be that dick and dismiss her, but I wanted to continue my evening with Emory and see if he would indulge my fancy and let me buy him a drink.

Another glance between them told me Emory was fading and Lavender had no intention of leaving. Some things were extraordinary and hot in the moment, while one's dick was in one's hand, and in the driver's seat. But when the thrill of release wore off and brain function returned, shame could mask all those wonderful feelings. I couldn't let Emory submerge into regret.

"I was hoping we could talk for a minute, River." Lavender gave me her sexiest full lip before dragging her teeth over it. She was an attractive girl, but I didn't date people I did this with. I didn't date as a rule. My life didn't allow for it. I didn't have the time to settle down.

This had been strictly an exchange of services because I'd been at the end of my rope and now I feared I hadn't recognized the glint in her eyes when she'd been the first to offer.

"Sure," I said, getting ready to give her my normal speech.

"Alone." She eyed Emory.

No. He couldn't leave.

"How about we just…" But it felt disingenuous when she'd gotten her hopes up. "Can you give us a moment, Emory?"

He nodded, forcing a smile to his lips.

Lavender held her arm out for me to take, and when I reluctantly accepted, she dragged me to an empty alcove.

"I was hoping we could get out of here." She got in nice and close.

I backed into the wall behind me. Trapped. I hated being trapped, and I started to sweat, hands twitching at my sides.

"I can't." My words failed me. I wasn't ashamed. I'd left my thoughts behind with Emory, and only my body reacted to the stimuli.

She stuck out her lip.

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