Page 36 of Road Trip

Matt was still sleeping when I got back to the motel, but he snorted and snuffled awake like a puppy when I dumped the bag of laundry on the bed. He blinked and glared, but then he spotted the paper bag I was carrying and his expression turned hopeful. “Is that breakfast?”

“It’s closer to lunch at this point,” I said and tossed the bag at him.

He caught it against his chest and opened it. “Breakfast burrito! Sweet!” He sat up in bed, the blankets pooling around his waist, and tore open the wrapper, taking a huge bite and letting out a moan that sent my mind places that had nothing to do with burritos. He grinned at me, one of his rare, unguarded smiles that I was pretty sure nobody else got to see but me, and the knot of tension in my chest unfurled.

I sat next to him on the bed, pulling the bag over and grabbing my own burrito. It was really fucking good, and we ate in happy silence for a few minutes. When we were done, Matt turned and gestured at me. “Bro, you’ve got sauce on your face.”

“Where?” I dabbed at my cheek with a napkin.

Matt paused for a second, holding my gaze and tilting his head as though he was thinking hard. Then the little fucker leaned over and licked my cheek. “Got it.”

I let out a startled laugh and shoved at him. “Gross!”

He shrugged. “It’s no worse than kissing, and you didn’t mind that.”

And there it was. The dick-shaped elephant in the room.

It looked like we were talking about this now. “Yeah. About that.”

“Hold on, I gotta take a leak.” Matt scrambled off the bed and headed for the bathroom. I barely had time to wonder if he was avoiding me before he was back, sitting cross-legged and facing me, wearing the familiar crease in his brow that he got when he was overthinking something.

“So,” I said.

“So,” Matt echoed, and his throat clicked as he swallowed. “Last night. Are you gonna tell me it was a one-off or…”

My own brow scrunched in confusion. “Why would I say that?”

Matt shrugged. “I mean, it probably wasn’t very good. I came in like, ten seconds.”

“Are you kidding?” I shoved his shoulder. “I came in about nine.”

His brow unfurrowed. “So, it was okay?”

“Matty, I’ve never come harder in my life. It was the best sex I’ve ever had.”

“But you dated Layla, and I might be gay but I’m not blind. She’s objectively hot.”

And he was right. Laylawashot. But Layla had never made my blood fizz or my insides twist with want like Matt did. I guessed maybe I’d been gayer than I thought for longer than I’d thought. “It…it was never like that with Layla,” I said. “Seriously, last night was…” I raised my hands and spread my fingers, mimicking an explosion. “It was fucking amazing, okay?”

“Yeah, it was.”

We both sat in silence while we digested that. Neither of us was freaking out, which had to be a good sign, right? Finally, Matt caught my gaze. “So,” he said, “what happens now?”

I wanted to tell him that I already had a saved tab on my phone with budget airfares. I wanted to tell him I loved him, and if he could just wait until I graduated, I’d go wherever he wanted. But I didn't tell him any of those things because that seemed like a lot to ask on the strength of some kissing, a dirty grind, and a single shared orgasm. So I settled for, “I don’t want last night to be a one-off.”

Matt’s entire body sagged with something like relief. “Me either.” He reached out and grasped my hand. “I say we fool around as much as we can, while we can.” He hesitated. “Maybe we can figure something out once we get to San Diego?”

My heart thumped in my chest as I took in what he was saying. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he said. “It’ll probably be all jerking off over FaceTime because I’m broke as fuck and I don’t know if my dad will be willing to fly me back east to see my boyfriend, but yeah.”

Boyfriend.Holy shit.

I liked how that sounded and how it made me feel even more.

“I have Google Flights open on my phone right now,” I blurtedout, and so much for not telling him. “There are some pretty cheap ones.”

He snorted. “Sure, if you’re willing to go via, I dunno,Alaska. Five layovers, twenty hours in the air, and a hundred sitting around a bunch of shitty airports.” He glared at me as though I’d personally invented modern air travel and then shrugged his narrow shoulders. “I mean, I’d do it, I guess. Even Alaska.”

---