Page 51 of Wrecked

So this is what a date feels like? I find myself relaxing next to him. After two beers, we switch to drinking Coke because too much alcohol would not be a good idea. We follow up the pizza by polishing off the last two chocolate chip cookies.

“You owe me another tin,” Sam says, laughing when he shoves the last bite of cookie into his mouth.

I sigh in exaggeration. “I’ll bake you more tomorrow.”

“Would it be too much to ask for peanut butter cookies? You know, the ones with the crosshatch lines on top? My mom makes those a lot.”

I smile. “Peanut butter it is.”

Halfway through the movie, Sam leans into me, brushing my shoulder with his. “You can stay the night if you want, as long as you promise there’ll be no sex.”

“You like torturing me, don’t you?” I ask without malice. To my surprise, I’m actually enjoying myself this evening. Sam’s exuberance for everything from unrealistic video games to unrealistic sci-fi movies to his appreciation for homemade cookies is endearing. Right now, if he asked me for the moon, I’d give it to him. “No sex. I promise, Sam.” And to my surprise, I actually mean it. I’ll promise him anything if he’ll let me stay.

Toward the end of the movie, I can tell Sam’s running out of steam. He leans more heavily into me and rests his head on my shoulder. When he lays his hand on my thigh, I cover it with my own and link our fingers together.

Even though our eyes are on the screen, I suspect we’re both hyperaware of each other’s proximity. I lightly rub the back of his hand with my thumb, and he tightens his grip on my fingers.

I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to have sex with Sam tonight. Of course, I do. If he changed his mind and gave me the green light, I’d be all over him. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about our first time. Surely it wasn’t as good as I remember.

But obviously he needs me to do this—to abstain tonight—to show him I can spend time with him without the promise of sex.

I can. Of course, I can.

I may die of blue balls in the process, but I’ll push through it.

When the movie ends, it’s late. Clearly Sam is tired. I am, too. We clean up our late-night dinner mess, throwing away the trash and putting the empty bottles in the recycling bin.

While Sam disappears into the bathroom to get ready for bed, I turn off all the lights, double-check that the door is locked, and carry my duffle bag to his bedroom. I’m pulling a toothbrush out of my bag when he walks into the bedroom wearing nothing but his charcoal gray boxer briefs.

Holy fuck.

“Now I know you’re trying to torture me,” I say with a groan. Because looking at his body makes me crazy.

Sam’s nearly as tall as I am, but I outweigh him by at least thirty pounds. He’s muscular, but lean. Because he has hardly any fat on him, I can see the outline of his muscles beneath his lightly freckled skin. He’s got a lean waist, framed by his adonis belt. There’s a thin line of auburn hair extending from his navel down to disappear beneath the waistband of his underwear. His chest is devoid of hair, his skin as smooth as a baby’s. His piercings glitter in the lamplight, drawing my eye to his dusky-pink nipples. Black tribal tattoos wind down his arms and across his abdomen.

He walks up to me and takes hold of the hem of my T-shirt and pulls it off me.

“You said no sex,” I remind him, hoping desperately that the rules for tonight have changed.

“I did. But that doesn’t mean we can’t touch.” He runs his hands up my arms to my shoulders, then down my chest to my waistband. He unfastens my jeans and slowly lowers the zipper.

I swallow hard. “You are playing with fire, kid.”

“Maybe I like playing with fire,old man.” He laughs.

“God, please don’t call me that. I already feel older than the hills compared to you.”

“Then don’t call mekid.”

“Touché.”

I kick off my shoes and drop my jeans. My boxer briefs stay on. “Get in bed, Sam. I only have so much willpower.”

Smiling, he climbs into bed.

I head to the bathroom and get myself ready for bed. When I return to the bedroom, I turn off the light and join him.

We’re lying awkwardly side by side, both of us staring at the ceiling.