Page 22 of Tapped By My Roommate
When I turned to close the door, Rhett was still watching me. In all of his half-naked glory. My gaze swept over him again, and I swallowed hard.
“Everything okay?” he asked.
“Yeah. Great. Why wouldn’t it be?”
He smiled wryly. I didn’t give him a chance to answer before shutting the door. Things obviously weren’t great. I was a basket case of nerves and confused desire. And the more research I did, the more porn I watched in my quest for understanding, the more tangled up I felt.
Watching porn had never done anything for me before. Not men with women, not women with women. And now, watching men with men left me just as cold. But what did that mean? Why didn’t I want those men the way I wanted Rhett? Was it just that they were on screen, instead of living and breathing before me? Or was it something special about Rhett? Or was I totally overblowing this whole kiss thing? Maybe if Rhett invited me to his bed, I’d hate it. Maybe it would feel all wrong.
I didn’t deal well with not understanding something. It wasn’t comfortable. As an academic, I was used to solving my problems with research and study. But this was one question I couldn’t find the answer for on my computer.
When I left the bathroom, Rhett was standing directly across the hall. He was dressed in tight jeans and his black bar T-shirt.
“Ethan,” he said. “I have to head out, but I wanted to say something.”
I braced myself for another apology. Instead, he said, “You haven’t worn a bowtie or suspenders yet. Don’t you trust my judgment?”
That wasn’t what I’d expected. I faltered. “I don’t know. I felt less sure of it in the light of day. We were drunk at the time, so…”
This was venturing dangerously close to kiss conversation territory. Rhett pushed off the wall, gaze fixed on mine. I wanted to look away, but I couldn’t. He was too intense.
“I’m not drunk now. I still think you looked cute in a bowtie. But it’s your call.”
“Uh, thanks.”
I shifted uncomfortably.
“I promise not to jump you if you wear one,” he added lightly.
I laughed nervously. Of course he wouldn’t jump me. He’d bolted as soon as he’d kissed me, and he’d given me no indication he’d ever want to kiss me again. More the opposite, really.
“I should get back to my room. I’m working on something.”
He nodded, looking disappointed. “Yeah, I’ve got to head out anyway.”
It was two hours until he had to be at work. I had his schedule memorized at this point. He was probably off to hook up with another man.
The idea put a bad taste in my mouth.
But maybe that app he used could give me answers to my sexuality dilemma. Research wasn’t working. But maybe talking to someone would help? Maybe even…doing more than talking.
I forced myself to sound casual as I asked, “So are you headed out to meet someone on that gay hookup app? It’s called Thrust, right?”
“Right,” he said, seeming thrown by the question. “It’s not just a gay app. I mean, it’s a queer app, but there’s a lot of sexualities on there.”
“Right. Sorry.”
I knew better after all the research I’d done. I’d been reading through the criteria for graysexuality and demisexuality, wondering if one of those definitions could apply to me. My sex life with Tess had been underwhelming. But I just wasn’t sure.
“That was preachy, sorry. It’s just a pet peeve of mine.”
“No, that’s okay. I’d rather you tell me when I’m being an idiot.”
He smiled. “You’re not an idiot.”
I kind of felt like one around him. He got me all tongue-tied.
“Well, have fun tonight,” I said, still fishing since he’d never answered the question about his plans. It was probably better that I didn’t know if he was meeting a guy, but I couldn’t seem to help myself. “I don’t want to keep you from a hot date.”
