Page 77 of Our Final Game

“You’re such an asshole, don’t make me regret trying to make peace, okay?”

“Hmm, you can keep my jacket if you like,” Tyson whispers, so close I can feel his breath warm against my cheek.

“I wasn’t going to keep it.”

“Looks good on you.”

“Tyson…”

“Hmm?” he hums, his eyes flicking to my lips.

“Can … can we kiss?” I murmur, shifting on my feet.

I know this sounds absolutely insane, but I not only really need it, but what if kissing him will jog his memory a little? It’s worth a shot. I have nothing to lose. Not when I already feel like I’ve lost everything. Just want to feel his lips against mine again.

Tyson doesn’t say anything, instead, he pulls me flush against him, tilting my head upward and kisses me. It starts soft and unhurried before turning into something burning and passionate. I moan into his mouth, fisting the front of his shirt as I lean in harder. Tyson threads his fingers in my hair and slips his tongue in my mouth before sucking on mine long and slow. We separate when I rub my erection on his thigh.

I’m gone.

“Ro…” Tyson says, his face pulled together in confusion. He looks dazed, and not in the way of being kissed to oblivion. He keeps blinking and staring off into the space around us.

“Are you okay, Ty?”

“Yeah … I, um, just don’t feel good. I’m sorry.” He chuckles. “Not the kiss though, that was great.”

“Oh, okay, do you wanna come in and lie down?” I ask.

“You were waiting to say that, weren’t you?” Tyson smirks.

“You’re the one who said you feel sick!”

“Yeah, but I live upstairs, Rohan.” He smiles.

“Okay, fine, so go upstairs then,” I huff.

“Let’s go in,” Tyson whispers.

I open the door to my apartment and pull him inside, the door clicking softly behind us.

Chapter 37

Tyson

The press of Rohan’s lips felt so familiar, like a memory embedded somewhere deep in my mind. Along with all the other odd memories of dreams about him. It’s all like a puzzle that I can’t seem to complete because I’ve lost some pieces on the way. And Rohan asking me out on a date suddenly is making everything that’s been happening this last few days even more jarring. Now I’m sitting on his couch as he gets me a glass of water from his kitchen.

How the fuck did I even get here?

Why did he let me into his apartment?

Rohan took my jacket into his room, making me laugh. I guess he doesn’t intend on giving it back. His antics are actually quite cute when he’s not being a little shit. Especially the way he turns completely red every time he’s embarrassed. He places the glass down in front of me and sits next to me.

“I’m gonna shower soon,” he mutters, eyeing me in a way I can’t quite name. But it makes me want to kiss him again. I wonder if he’s feeling insane enough to let me follow him into the shower?

“Alright, I won’t peek at you while you’re naked,” I blurt out, placing the water back onto the table. Again, such an odd memory. I keep saying things without knowing exactly where it’s coming from.

“Sorry, I, I don’t know why I said that.”

“Right…” Rohan says, looking down at his hands, blushing.