Page 94 of Roleplay at Randy's
“Are you going to be there?” Because unless I can have him in my arms, I have no interest in moving from this spot.
He chuckles soft and low, and in the dim lighting of the living room lamp, I can see his braided hair slung in front of his shoulder and the red rings rimming his damp eyes.
“I’ve been waiting for you.”
Figuring that we’ve moved past the overstimulation from earlier but still wanting him to hold the reins of how much contact we have, I thread my fingers over his on my cheek and focus on feeling his warmth.
“Elias.”
“Hm?”
“Come lay with me.”
With an exaggerated sigh, I open my eyes again, but instead of standing, I reach for his braid and tug it lightly. He smiles so indulgent and sweet that it reawakens those pesky butterflies that treated my stomach like their playground when we first met.
His mouth opens, but no words come out. The smile dips a fraction as he sighs and grips my shirt in his hand. “Come,” he finally says with a quiet chuckle, and this time I do.
My body follows him like it was made for taking his orders. For giving this one man whatever he wants, whatever he needs.
Like I was made to exist with him. In this universe. In all of them.
I let him pull me onto the bed, and we tumble into a heap of limbs and linens. My arms go around his waist. His loop around my neck. He’s on his back, and I’m half on top of him with my thigh between his parted legs. Our mouths come together like it’s the only right thing we’ve ever known. Like no matter how heavy the burden, connecting like this eases the load.
I want to lay here and kiss him until his expression is open and willing to accept that he dideverythingright tonight. Exactly as I would have done it.
I want him to kiss me until I stop overthinking, until I stop seeing the intense pain in his eyes when ours met in the hospital bathroom—as if I would blame him orhatehim.
I never want him to think I could feel even a modicum of that kind of negativity toward him.
I love him too goddamn much.
“Matty,” I breathe his name, and his fingers twist in my hair, digging at my scalp. “Matty, sweetheart.”
He shudders in my arms and buries his face in the crookof my neck. His eyes dampen my skin, and for a few moments we just lie there, holding one another. I pretend not to hear his breathing quiver; I just stroke along the planes of his bare skin warm against my own.
“You don’t have to say anything,” I whisper, his only answer a kiss to my throat. “But I need to talk, alright, sweetheart?”
Silence. I loop an arm around his waist and hold him tight.
“I am so proud of you.” His muscles tense, and I flatten my palm between his shoulder blades. “I know we said a lot of shit about putting on an act for my sister. Not asking for forever. Blah blah blah. Let’s face it; we’re both full of shit, and we know it.”
Another little kiss, and I press my own lips to the top of his head. “I'm in love with you, Matty Nichols. There's no doubt in my mind. You are who I want. The only person I've ever wanted this way.”
He tries to pull away—to look at me maybe—but I grip the back of his neck with gentle fingers, urging him to stay.
“I’m not done.” The words aren’t even out of my mouth yet, and my heart is breaking. “Seeing you this tore up, Matty? It kills me. Because this is life with us. It's painful sometimes, but seeing Calum smile? Seeing him when something we've been working on clicks? It's fucking magical and worth all of the pain in the world.”
I don’t ever want to let Matty go. I want him in my arms in every future imaginable. I want him to trust me that we can get through anything together. The three of us.
I want it so badly that my heart fights what I’m about to say next, but it needs to be said.
“You very recently told me you weren't ready for something serious. Cal and I? We are as serious as it comes. We'rea package deal. And I know you love the shit out of him just like I love the shit out of you. Even if your feelings for me have changed, if youdowant something more ... You can't be ready to commit to both of us, Matty. And I can't split myself between the two of you.”
Everything is unsteady. The shaky foundation we started on is crumbling under our weight. I want to save it—to save him—but there isn’t enough of me to save us both.
I finally let him pull away, and his eyes aren’t only wet, they’re a rainfall of sadness flowing down his cheeks. If only I could tell him everything would be okay, because I want it to be, I’d do anything for it to be, but the truth isI don’t know.
Matty has to decide he’s ready for all of the baggage I come with, and I don’t think he is.
