Page 19 of A Very Oceanport Christmas
"You have absolutely nothing to be sorry for."
David pressed a kiss to my forehead. My eyes fluttered closed as I basked in the warmth of his presence, knowing that everything was right with the world and wishing that feeling could last forever.
7
David
Iblinked my eyes open and I was lying in a bed next to Sam. I closed my eyes and opened them again, just to make sure I'd still see the same thing, that I wasn't dreaming. Holy hell, he was still there, his still-sleeping body a warm weight beside mine. Last night had really happened.
I exhaled a slow breath, an intense sense of giddiness spreading through my limbs. Sam and I had fallen asleep together, after sex. Just the way I'd always fantasized about.
His scent crept into my nose. I turned on my side to face him, drawing more of it into my lungs. He smelled so good my cock was stirring again already, more awake than the rest of my body.
Sam looked so peaceful in his sleep, though. I didn't want to disturb him. I was tempted to let my eyes fall shut again too. Catch another hour of sleep or so, just lie here with Sam by my side, relishing in his presence, his nearness.
But it was a work day.
With a small sigh, I glanced at the alarm clock on my bedside table. It would go off any moment now. I turned it off pre-emptively so the noise wouldn't wake the sleeping beauty beside me. Just because I had to get up didn't mean he had to. In his condition, he could probably use all the rest he could get. My eyes trailed to his belly. Part of me wanted to touch it, but I wasn't sure if that would be crossing a boundary, so instead, I swung my legs out of bed and quietly got dressed.
My dad was already downstairs, preparing breakfast the way he did every morning. I greeted him with a yawn. He laughed at me. "You look like you're half-asleep still, son."
Did I? Maybe it was because I didn't want to wake up from the wonderful dream I'd had. Even though I'd woken up next to Sam, it was still hard to believe that the events of last night had really happened. That Sam wouldn't regret anything when he woke up. Oh God, what if he did? What if he regretted everything?
Or what if he wanted it to be a one-night thing?
"You all right?" my dad asked when I took too long to respond.
"I'm fine," I mumbled and sat down at the kitchen table. Dad put a plate of food in front of me. Eggs and bacon. Breakfast of champions, as he liked to call it. I picked up a fork and started eating. Not because I was particularly hungry but because I didn't want Dad to think there was anything wrong with me.
"Sam still asleep?" he asked. "Is he doing okay? He seemed a little upset yesterday."
"Yeah, I didn’t want to wake him."
"That’s fine. He probably needs his sleep."
I nodded as I chewed on a piece of crispy bacon.
"You got mail, by the way," Dad said next. Something about the way he said it was ominous. Instantly, my thoughts snapped to the college application I'd sent out a couple of weeks ago, almost on a whim.
I swallowed the piece of bacon in my mouth. It went down like plywood. "Anything important?" I made myself ask.
"You tell me, I'm not going to open your mail." Dad picked a thick envelope up from the kitchen counter. It was addressed to me and carried the stamp of Silverlake College. My throat tightened as my fingers tightened around the rough paper of the envelope. "Aren't you going to open it?" Dad asked.
I had to, didn't I? Part of me didn't even want to. It was pointless anyway. I'd only filled out the application because I wanted to see if I could get in. It had been like a dare I made with myself. I hadn't considered what I'd do when the response arrived, hadn't given it a second thought, really. Now it was all I could think about. What if it was a rejection letter?
Then nothing,I told myself.If I'm rejected, it ends there.
Hell, I almost wanted it to be a rejection.
I would finally have peace of mind instead of wondering what might have been if I'd had the chance to pursue higher education.
If it was an acceptance, though...
"It's going to be okay, kid," Dad said as if he could tell what was going on in my mind. "Kind of wish you'd told me you were applying, but I'm okay if you want to go. I get it. I'll make things work around here. You've done enough."
I swallowed thickly. Part of me wanted to argue with that, but I couldn't get the words out. Instead I just kept staring at the envelope in my hands--which was absolutely ridiculous. There was no reason for me to be scared of a piece of paper.
Finally, I tore the envelope open and took the letter out.
