Page 50 of Attractive Forces
Yep, it’s definitely the best thing to ever happen to me.
Suddenly, footsteps come up the stairs.
“Shit.” I jerk away from him and stagger to my feet in the same movement.
The footsteps move past the door, but my freak-out switch has been well and truly triggered. Panic floods my body.
“I’ve got to go,” I say.
Jake huffs slightly as he stares up at me. His lips are red and faintly swollen, and his eyes are half-lidded like he’s just been woken from some incredible dream.
He blinks. And then blinks again.
He looks so dazed and cute that it’s all I can do not to go back to him.
Instead, I make my feet move toward the door. “See you later.”
I don’t look back at Jake as I leave. I dart down the stairs and out the door at record speed, my breath coming in small pants.
It’s not until I’m in my car that the full impact of what just happened hits me.
I kissed Jake, and he kissed me back. Holy fuck.
All my organs vibrate with a potent combination of excitement, happiness, and fear.
But when I pull up at my house, the excitement and happiness fade, leaving behind only fear.
Until now, my liking guys has simply been a theoretical concept. No one could prove I was gay. But for the first time, I’ve acted on my urges. I trust Jake completely, but still…now my secret has escaped, and I have no idea what the repercussions will be.
The fear thrumming inside me isn’t helped by my father ambushing me as soon as I walk into the house.
“Where were you?”
“At Jake’s.”
“Your chemistry tutor?”
“Yeah.”
“I thought you had tutoring on Thursdays?”
“I do. I just needed extra help for something I didn’t understand in class.”
It takes everything I have to stop myself from blushing. Shit, what is with this interrogation? Does he know somehow? Yeah, unless he has a spy camera set up in Jake’s room, there’s no way he knows what happened this afternoon. I take a deep breath, trying to calm my skittish nerves.
Dad frowns. “Is Jake the friend whose house you stayed at on Saturday night?”
I blink in surprise. “Yeah.”
“And why did you stay at his place?”
I look down at my feet, my sneakers a bright blue against the carpet. “He wasn’t feeling well.”
“I see.” Dad purses his lips. “And this illness of his, was it self-inflicted?”
How the hell did my father have access to the teenage gossip hotline?
“What do you mean?” I hedge.
