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His brow furrows. “What?”
“Yeah, no,” I draw my brows together as well with a slight shake of my head. “Maybe next time, can’t get too greedy.”
He’s quiet for a moment as he glances towards the coffee table where the actual cinnamon rolls are sitting, then back to me. “…What?”
“Nothing.”
We’ve yet to move, as we lay naked on the couch, cocks still touching, and we both suddenly realize this. He pushes himself up into sitting, and I do the same.
“So…” I nod into the living room. “It’s late and you’ve been drinking…”
He nods as he watches me wipe up the mess on my stomach with my t-shirt.
“Movie?” I ask, turning to look at him.
A look of surprise briefly flashes across his face before he catches himself, giving me a slight shrug.
And honestly, yeah, I’m not sure how I feel about this either. The dick sucking is great, but… now what?
“A children’s movie?” he asks, eyeing the TV.
A slight surge of annoyance rushes in, which brings me comfort. Ah yes. He’s still an ass, not much else has changed. I can work with this.
“Well, that depends,” I say, reaching out to grab the remote and turn the TV on. “Do you think Ratatouille is a children’s movie?”
“I don’t know what that is.” He reaches down to the floor to grab his t-shirt.
The gasp that comes out of me startles him. But then I remember who I’m talking to. “Oh. I should have known.” I scroll to find the best movie ever made about the adorable little rat chef. “This is exciting, hold onto your dick, Ty.” I look down at it as he pulls his underwear back up. “Or not. Anyway, go get us more beers.” I wave a hand towards the kitchen. “You’re in for a wild ride.”
He doesn’t move from the couch as he stares at me.
And I just stare back at him.
Eventually, he sighs and gets up, grabbing two more beers from the fridge. As he passes me one and sits down on the couch beside me, he mumbles, “I’m only doing this because I can’t drive home right now.”
I just nod and turn the movie on.
Sure. Because cabs aren’t a thing.
TWENTY-TWO
The kink in my neck makes me wince as I wake, slumped over on Luca’s couch. It’s still dark outside, so I glance at my watch to see it’s just after 5:00 am. Considering it was probably 2:00 am by the time we fell asleep, after a few more beers at that, I am feeling rough.
Luca is asleep beside me, curled up against the arm of the couch, hugging a pillow to his chest. My eyes travel over his face as he sleeps peacefully, and then down to the floor where the chessboard and pieces are still scattered.
But my gaze lands on Luca once again, as I listen to his deep breaths while he sleeps. His loose curls are a mess, partially hanging over his forehead and sticking straight up in various directions. I can’t pull my gaze away from him as I take the chance to finally study him, knowing he won’t catch me doing so.
And as I do, my eyes roaming over his relaxed features and down his muscular tattooed arms, that unsettling feeling takes over once again. And I realize, for the first time, that it’s not uncomfortable. It’s just different.
Last night, I told him things I’ve never told anyone, and did something I’ve never done with anyone. I could have left… but I didn’t. I’ve never stayed over after hooking up with girls, and I’ve always told myself that I can’t have that sort of connection. But something about him has that wall crumbling down and allowing him in.
Allowing me to enjoy myself.
Even when he puts on a cartoon movie about a rat that cooks.
I rub a hand over my face and stand up quietly, trying not to jostle and wake Luca. As I glance back down at him, I think briefly about waking him, but I don’t. Instead, I grab my hoodie, slip it on, and quietly leave his apartment.
As I head outside into the cool November air and towards my car, those same thoughts and feelings continue to swirl around within me.
