Page 4 of Ripe & Ready
I roll my eyes, but my lips twitch. “It’s cool.”
“Glad we agree,” he says, baring his teeth in that wicked little smile before flopping back down onto the bed.
“You’re the only person I know who gets this excited about gorillas,” I say, watching him practically glow.
“They’re amazing,” he shoots back instantly, his voice full of that soft, wild-eyed wonder he gets when he talks about the natural world. It reminds me so much of that kid with purple board shorts and too much sunscreen, except now he’s got a degree and biceps. “I mean… we evolved from primates. They’re like our cousins and they’re so smart. They have these people hands, and these people expressions, and they can learn sign language and recognize themselves in mirrors. Like… come on. That’s exciting.”
He pauses for a second. Not in a dramatic “wait for it” kind of way. Something’s clicking in his head. Then, softer, he goes, “And they love deeply.”
The way he says it is not like some casual animal trivia. It means something to him. That’s the part that really gets him, the reason he’s here, sweating through his shirt in the middle of the African jungle.
His gaze pins me with his quiet, steady kind of truth in his eyes and all coherent thought exits the building. Because what the hell am I supposed to do with that?
“People think they’re ferocious, but they’re peaceful. Gentle, even. They live in tight family groups. They form these deep,lasting bonds… like, real relationships. Protective. Loyal. It’s... beautiful.”
I stand there, arms awkward at my sides, taking in the full force of his excitement. He’s still sprawled across the bed barefoot and radiant and full of heart and I’m over here trying not to let my brain connect this bed with this boy and my unrelenting, soul-crushing love.
Spoiler alert: I fail. I fail so hard it echoes.
2
The jungle’s quiet at night.
Not silent. It’s never that. It’s a full-blown symphony of bugs, birds, and God-knows-what else rustling outside the hut, probably plotting to claw their way in and maul me to death while I lie here in nothing but gym shorts.
The sounds don’t come one by one. They rise all at once, this chaotic wall of white noise. It’s loud, sure, but weirdly soothing if you let it be. Honestly, compared to how loud my brain is right now, it’s practically peaceful.
I can’t sleep.
Not with Derek lying right next to me in the dark while the mosquito netting wraps around us like we’re in the steamy, bug-infested version of a honeymoon suite. It’s slowly melting my brain.
We’re both on our backs, side by side, basically on top of each other. Physically. Emotionally. Spiritually, if we’re counting that moment earlier when he said gorillas love deeply and held my gaze like he hadn’t torn my heart from my chest.
I can’t stop thinking about it. The way he talked about their bonds, so full of awe and tenderness. It made something twistinside me. Made me want to know what it would feel like if he loved me like that.
Now, every inch of me is on high alert. There’s the way his knuckles brush mine under the blanket, and then there’s the casual nudge of his foot. Every little graze sets off an alarm till my brain is flashing emergency protocol and my body is flat-out ignoring it.
My dick? Absolutely betraying me. I swear, if anything does break into this hut tonight, I’m gonna have to fight it off fully hard and humiliated.
Killer animal versus boner? My money’s on the animal.
I’m internally yelling stand down, soldier, this is a platonic sleepover, while simultaneously losing my grip on reality.
It’s not like we’ve never shared space before. We grew up together. We’ve crashed on couches, been squished in tents, even shared a sleeping bag once during a poorly planned ski trip. But that was years ago. Back when I was better at pretending.
I have to tell him. It’s eating me alive.
How do people live while quietly yearning? I don't know how to survive it. There’s this gravity between us, pulling me in, and I’m either gonna combust from the heat or we’re gonna crash into each other and leave nothing but emotional devastation behind.
“What are you thinking about?” Derek whispers, voice rough and laced with sleep. It startles me, and I flinch.
“I’m sleeping,” I blurt, way too fast.
His amusement breaks free in a quiet, amused chuckle. “You think louder than anyone I’ve ever met.”
I hum in response. Talking feels dangerous. Like if I say the wrong thing, the thin thread holding me together might snap.
He turns his head and even if I can't see it, I can feel when it his gaze lands on me. “You okay?”
