Page 143 of Detectives in Love
“Just for tonight,” he adds, softer, almost solemn.
“Yeah,” I murmur, a little breathless.
He tugs gently on my hand, and I follow him through the kitchen, down the dark hall, into his bedroom. He lets go to draw the curtains, and I climb into bed, the near-darkness settling heavy around me.
Xavier circles the bed and slips under the covers on the other side. He turns toward me, and even in the dim light, I canfeel him watching. The room goes still, filled only with the sound of our breathing.
Exhaustion pulls at me, and I shift closer until our heads rest on the same pillow. God, my whole body aches with how much I want him near. I want to touch him—but I don’t. I need to respect what he asked. So I just lie there, hoping he’ll touch me first, give me one more taste of this dream before morning comes and washes it away.
And then, like he read my mind, Xavier’s arm slides around my waist and pulls me close.
“Sorry,” he murmurs, his breath warm against my cheek.
“What are you sorry for?” I whisper.
“For embarrassing myself today.”
“You didn’t,” I say quietly, not even sure what he means. I run my hand over his shoulder, trying to soothe him.
“It’s just…the things I said in the taxi,” he mumbles, shame creeping into his voice.
I pause.
“So you didn’t mean them?” I ask, trying not to sound disappointed, but it slips through anyway.
Xavier goes quiet. Then sighs, wrecked. “Fuck, Newt.” His arm tightens around me, our legs brushing beneath the covers. “I’m still a little medicated, so I probably shouldn’t say anything if I don’t want to completely humiliate myself again.”
I laugh. “Alright.”
“Ask me again tomorrow,” he whispers.
Another soft laugh escapes me, warmth curling through my chest. “Alright,” I say again and close my eyes, sleep finally beginning to take hold.
Just before I slip under, I swear I feel Xavier’s lips brush my cheek—but I can’t tell if I dreamt it.
***
Time slips by.
Somewhere deep in my mind, tangled between sleep and wakefulness, I hear my own voice.
“What? You don’t like it?”
There’s a long sigh, and Xavier says, “You’re drunk. You’re going to regret this tomorrow.”
I chuckle. “I promise I’m not.” Then give him another quick kiss.
“Oh God,” he mutters, his voice dark and serious.
“Fine,” I say. “Leave, then. If you don’t want me.”
He lets out a sharp breath. “Fuck, you can’t say things like that.”
“Why? Because you’re not gay?”
He sighs again—
But before I can hear his answer, I jolt awake, sucking in a sharp breath.
