Page 66 of Hot Mess Express
“Uh … try what?”
He throws his arm over the back of the bench and scoots up to my side. “I want to … t-to try somethin’. Just a quick somethin’. To figure somethin’ out. A quick little nothin’ somethin’.”
A little nothing something? The hell is he talking about?
He swallows hard. “I wanna try somethin’, but … but I need you to … to say it’s okay first.”
“What’re you wanting to try?”
“Just say it’s okay.”
“Are you about to kiss me again, Anthony?”
His face freezes.
I literally watch his eyes become two balls of lifeless glass.
His jagged breaths get swallowed up into his slackened mouth by my terrifying question.
Or perhaps it was that one word I snuck in there:
Again.
Has this whole night been a build-up of courage for him that I never quite let myself see? Should I have noticed it earlier at the movies and said something? I can’t possibly know what this sort of experience is like for a small-town guy like Anthony. Despite this town having a gay reverend with a husband and a mayor with two sons in relationships with men, that doesn’t mean it’s easy for all men to openly explore their feelings for each other. Some will still struggle. Some keep their desires secret for all sorts of reasons.
Some of them throw attitude to shut up their dancing hearts.
Some of them sit on you during a movie and refuse to get up.
Some of them ask you every question under the moon on a park bench on a Thursday night in the middle of a deadsville small town instead of the one they want to.
The one they need to.
The one they have to.
Anthony’s face draws closer suddenly, like he can’t stand the wait. I stare back at him silently, my own heart starting to sprint the closer he gets.
His eyes grow even more beautiful in their fear.
His lips, too, parting, ready for it, wanting it.
I say nothing, watching him draw closer.
He stops a mere inch from my face. “Do I … Do I have your … y-your permission?”
My breath catches in my throat.
I think I just realized I need this too, as desperately as he does.
I answer with my lips, pressing them to his.
16
ANTHONY
The first thought in my head is, I’m not drunk enough to be doing this.
Second thought is, I’m not drunk at all.
