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I woke wrapped around someone, grinding myself against him. For a few disoriented seconds, I didn’t question it. I focused on the warmth, his steady breathing, and how comforting it was to have him there. Then everything from the night before came back, and I froze.
The lamp was still on, and the TV showed silent static. I moved just enough to see his face: messy hair, soft features, a little stubble. He looked peaceful. He looked younger like this, more open than I’d seen him in years.
He stirred. “Nix?”
His eyes opened slowly, and he turned over so he faced me. His expression was different. Dangerous.
“We fell asleep,” I said.
“Yeah.” His voice was rough.
I started to pull away, give him space so he wasn’t uncomfortable, but he caught my wrist. My heart stopped.
“Pack?”
He widened his beautiful eyes and guided my hand over his chest. He trembled as he moved my hand down to his stomach. The heat of him through his shirt made me throb.
The only sounds were our breathing and the faint hum of the elevators. Here we were again, locked in the same awful, beautiful closeness I remembered from college. Back then, we’d been kids, scared and stupid. We’d buried our feelings under jokes and distance. Girlfriends gave us an excuse to ignore the tension between us, and then years of hatred kept us away from each other. It had all been too much, and I couldn’t pretend anymore.
“Nix?” His voice was a hoarse whisper. “I keep having these crazy thoughts. About us.” He paused but didn’t break eye contact. “I’ve been wondering if… well, if we were thinking alike. I’ve never done anything like this with a man. But with you, I want to. I need to know if you feel it too. Am I losing my mind? Do you—”
I kissed him.
#ryantaylor #joshuaharwood #mmromance @theauthor.agency
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