Page 17 of Exhale

“I’ve had this with me since I left. I just, you know. Couldn’t let go. It was the only little thing I had that smelled like you. It smells funny now, though, so I should probably wash it.”

He’d kept my manties. Like a kinky little freak.

“You’re disgusting.” My laughter was too loud and blush too real. “I’ll leave you a clean pair when I go back to uni on Monday, but you can have the real thing now since I’m right here.”

“So…I can sniff you?” And there went his jeans, the fabric falling around his socked feet, leaving him in just a pair of green briefs with some stupid pineapple pattern that had me muffling another nervous giggle.

“Any time,” I said. “Think I probably stink right now. Sorry about that.” I was trying to be slow and seductive but ended up getting my chin stuck in my t-shirt before I ripped it over my head. There. Topless and definitely a little smelly, I sniffed my own armpit. Jamie laughed.

“I don’t mind what you smell like. Just want to stand here for a second and look at you.”

I was more than happy to stand here too, letting the calm wash over me, both of us bare-chested, facing each other through the building steam.

“I decided on my box,” he said, almost like he was tasting the words. “I’ve decided to just stick with being me. Fuck everything else. Nothing else seems to fit me now. I’m not straight and not gay and not pan-bi-sexual anything. I’m just going to be Jamie who has a boyfriend and refuse to tick any of those stupid boxes. Whatever people decide to think about that, well, I don’t really care anymore. I always thought it was important, but since I met you, I don’t think it is.”

“There’s usually a box to tick ‘refuse to answer’ or something on those kinds of forms. People fall in love, Jamie. It’s not like they can help who they fall in love with. You fell in love with Kizzy. Now…maybe it’s me.”

I hated that I doubted those words. That I couldn’t just put myself straight. That I hadn’t said:Now, it’s me. You’re in love with me, Jamie.

“I’m in love with you, Leo. Don’t you dare doubt that. We may be doing this in completely the wrong way, but I really don’t care. Nobody has the right to tell us how to do this. I want to be ridiculous and insane and throw myself into a relationship with you right now on our second date. We’re going to crash and burn, more than once, I don’t doubt that. I mean, look how we messed this up? Yet we’re still here.”

“We are,” I agreed, smiling. I didn’t know what to do with my hands, crossing them over my chest. I wanted to touch him, but in a way, just watching was nice. Taking him in. Drinking in that chest. Shoulders. Arms. The softness of his stomach. The small dimple in his chin. “Do you know what box I’ll tick from now on?” I asked with another silly grin, content with the feeling of peace slowly trickling back into my system.

“Gay? You said you’d always known. Has that changed?”

“No.” It hadn’t. I knew who I was, and that had always been a small source of comfort. “I’m going to tick the box that says Jamie. Because I belong with you, whatever happens now. You and me. That hasn’t changed. Not one bit.”

“Good.” He blew out. “I like that. You tick me and I’ll tick you back.”

“Tick the Leo box. Because that is who you are. You’re my guy. Work for you?”

“Works for me.” He smiled softly, his fingers running down over his belly and settling awkwardly with playing with the hem of his underpants.

“Pineapples.”

“I have watermelon ones too, if you find pineapples offensive.”

“Pineapples are never offensive. Not keen on all those avocado patterns though.”

“I’ve got avocado socks.”

“I might have to hide those then.”

“I can pretend they’re Luke’s.”

“Ha-ha.”

“I’ll stick them in your bag, and you’ll get to uni on Monday and dig out your laptop, only to find my terrible socks stuck against the screen.”

“Is it weird that I’d find that funny?”

“Nah. It’s no funnier than the fact that I’ve been walking around with your dirty manties in my pocket for weeks. I’m kind of obsessed with them now, getting all hot just thinking about what you might be wearing under those joggers. If they’re pink, I might just disgrace myself and come in my pants.”

“Sounds hot,” I mused, licking my lips. Because it would be.

“You’re so bloody gorgeous.”

“You know what would be hot?” I said, surprised how easily we were falling back into our own little brand of banter. Silly nonsense that made us both smile.

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