Page 108 of Trust Me

“Oli,” he breathed.

I tightened my grip when he tried to pull away. “Don’t go.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

Letting out a breath, I tipped my head back to look at the ceiling. “So, what do you think? About this,” I added when he gave me a questioning look. “Was it fine? Not what you thought it’d be? Do you need another minute to figure it out?”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Slow down.”

“It’s just that you said you wanted to try it. We tried. We came, we saw, we conquered. Not really conquered. Not yet. Or ever. I mean . . .” I rubbed the back of my neck, wrinkling my nose as I ran through my words again in my head.

“It was nice.”

“Nice is good. Although, considering you were very recently not gay, I’m not feeling super confident about how you’ll feel tomorrow.”

“Do you have an ounce of self-esteem?”

I held my thumb and forefinger close together in answer, which made him chuckle.

“To answer your little rambling fit, I’m not gay. Or I wasn’t. Or I didn’t think I was. I guess . . . Well, I guess I don’t really mind if I am.”

“That seems a little too simple.”

He shrugged. “What am I going to do? Fight it? I tried ignoring you and it sucked.”

His easygoing attitude was both refreshing and confusing. It didn’t seem like it should be that simple for him, but then again, when I realized I was attracted to guys, I wasn’t bothered by it. Maybe our mindsets were more similar than I’d thought.

A hundred worries tried to surface, reminding me of all the reasons he could find to leave. Having a whimsical, somewhat irresponsible friend was one thing. Shifting into something romantic was a whole different beast. Quirks could turn into irritants. Little eccentricities Dean once smiled at might become the very reasons he walked away.

“Well, we should finish up,” he said. “I’m exhausted.”

With a smile, I nodded. “Same.”

He took a few steps, but then he turned around again. “One more thing.”

Without warning, he marched right up to me and sunk his fingers into my hair. His mouth came down on mine gently, and his lips moved at a sickeningly sweet pace like he had all the time in the world. Inching away from my mouth, he teased me with feather-light kisses.

“I’ve got a crush on you, Oli.”

“Oh my God. Are you sure?”

“Pretty sure, unfortunately.”

“That’s freaking insane.”

“Just like you.”

Apparently, that was all that needed to be said. He left me there, and it took me until I heard the sprayer turn on in the back to get moving again. I wanted this bar cleaned up and in my rearview mirror. There was a bed waiting for me back home, and it was calling my name.