Page 103 of Make Me Mean It

My fingers find the back of his arm and trail slowly over warm skin. Theo turns rigid beneath them, but when my hand slows, I still can’t make myself take it away.

“You’re supposed to be straight,” he grits out.

Theo turns to face me, and I’m ready to give him the obvious fucking answer.

I am.

Except it never makes it out.

Not with him standing half naked in front of me and my gaze already caught on his mouth, lingering on the swollen curve of his bottom lip before slipping lower over his chest and stomach. Theo watches me stare, then drops his own eyes between us to the erection pressing against my boxers.

So much for the obvious answer.

“Fuck,” Theo groans.

The sound goes straight through me, my hands closing around his waist and pulling him flush against me. Theo comes easily, forehead dropping to mine as his eyes close, all that tension in him giving beneath my hands.

“You’re supposed to be straight,” he says again.

“You’re supposed to be straight,” he says again, except this time there’s no anger to hide behind. His eyes stay closed, forehead pressed to mine

“I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing,” I confess, my fingers twitching around his waist.

Theo’s breath catches against my mouth, and mine follows when his lips part this close to mine. He tips forward until they almost brush.

I kiss him.

Theo sighs my name into the kiss, his tongue sliding against mine, and my grip tightens as that same awful familiarity hits me again.

I know this now.

The shape of his mouth. The way he leans into me when I hold his waist. The sound he makes when I pull him closer.

Fuck.

I know how to kiss Theo.

I just don’t know what the hell that makes me.

And with his mouth still moving against mine, I can’t make myself care enough to stop.