Page 72 of Make the Play
Jason laughs, something warm and soft and so full of emotion Emerson feels it in his chest, even if he doesn’t understand what it means.
“Doing what backwards?” Emerson asks, afraid to move in case Jason stops touching him.
Growing up, there were times Emerson wasn’t sure he was real. Sure, he knew he was technically—flesh and bone don’t lie—yet his own experiences left him feeling sidelined and wayward like he wasn’t a character in his own story. The way Jason is looking at him right now, his touch grounding and his eyes adoring, Emerson feels like the main character in his own life for the first time.
Emerson feels achingly, vulnerably real.
“I need to ask you something, and tell you something. Except I’m not sure which one is supposed to come first.”
“You’re making me nervous,” Emerson admits.
“I’m sorry,” Jason says, tipping his head down to rest it against Emerson’s. His dark lashes rest on his cheekbones as he breathes in slow and deep. Jason’s eyes are closed but Emerson can’t look away. “Fuck. I’m fucking this up. I had a plan.”
“A plan,” Emerson echoes, still not sure what’s happening but delighting in the way Jason appears to be trying to swallow Emerson’s body up with his own.
“Yes. I made a plan. A how-to-get-the-guy plan. I was going to do this right and—and, shit.”
“Jason.”
“Yeah, Emmy?”
“That doesn’t sound very straight.”
Jason huffs out a laugh, rubbing his forehead against Emerson’s like a cat trying to imprint. He breathes Emerson in, fluttering his eyes open so that his big, dark eyes are so close to Emerson’s with their noses touching.
“Emmy, I have a secret.”
Emerson breathes him in, so in love with this giant, confusing man it hurts. “It won’t be a secret if you tell me.”
“That’s okay,” Jason whispers, his lips so close they’re almost pressed against Emerson’s. “I don’t want any secrets. Not from you.”
Holding his breath Emerson waits, the soft exhale of Jason’s breath against his lips and the brush of a thumb over his cheek rendering him speechless.
“Emmy, I don’t think I’m straight.”
14JASON
Jason holds his breath,waiting for a reaction but none comes. Emerson is almost frozen in place, his eyes unblinking as he stares at Jason with those big, wide eyes of his. They’re such a pale green they’re damn near translucent, the color magnified by the green of his suit.
Sucking in a deep breath, Jason does his best not to ramble, trying to give Emerson a moment to process but it’s so hard not to talk. His mind is reeling with thoughts, about his confession, about how pretty Emerson looks and, most especially, about how desperate he is to kiss a man.
Well, one man in particular.
“Emmy, do you need to text instead?”
Emerson shakes his head from side to side, a stray bit of hair falling into his eyes.
“Should I stop touching you?”
Emerson shakes his head again, using his free hand to curl it tightly into Jason’s suit so he doesn’t move. The desperation in the touch soothes something deep in Jason. He might not have any idea what the fuck he’s doing right now, but Emerson isn’t shutting him out. He still has a chance.
“Tell me what you need. I’ll do anything. Do you want me to get another last minute chaperone so you can process? Or should I just go back to the truck so you can have a few minutes alone? Or maybe?—”
“Say it again,” Emerson demands before snapping his mouth shut, unable to believe he just said that. Jason wants to kiss him all the more for not holding back with him.
“I don’t think I’m straight,” Jason repeats, smoothing his thumb over the arch of Emerson’s cheekbone a second time, trying to ground himself with the touch. “Well, notthink. I know.”
“How do you know?” Emerson asks, barely breathing.
