“He has a big heart. Probably too damn big.” He walks a little closer to me and places a hand on my shoulder. “He cares more about you than he cares about himself. That’s all that was. He didn’t want you to go, but he doesn’t think he can give you what you want.”
“I don’t even know what I want,” I say sadly, feeling even more lost now.
“You do,” he says confidently. “It’s just not what you expected.”
I stare at him blankly because I think he’s right.
He shoves my shoulder playfully. “Shut up. Sometimes I’m right about stuff.”
“Did I say that out loud?”
“No. But your face did, jackass.” We both chuckle, and he sighs. “Look, he’s just been rocking in his porch swing, all sad and shit, and it’s killing me. You need to go talk to him.”
“What if you’re wrong?”
“I’m not.” The cocky jackass winks at me and then heads out of my apartment.
I don’t want to admit it, but I know he’s right.
I don’t waste any more time worrying about it and grab my keys, heading for the door. I drive to Oakley’s and head straight for the backyard, where I know he’ll be.
Garrison was right. He looks awful and sad as he just swings and barely even notices me opening the gate and walking to him.
“What are you doing here?”
“My date sucked. It was boring and not at all what I expected. I kept thinking about you the entire time, which was really annoying, by the way.”
“I’m sorry?” He says it like a question, and goddamn it, he’s so fucking adorably clueless.
I sit down next to him on the swing, and he turns his upper body toward me, unsure and looking as lost as I feel.
“So you aren’t dating him?”
I shake my head. “No, we aren’t a good match at all. He wasn’t what I wanted.”
“I thought he was exactly what you wanted.” He really is Sad Oakley right now. I don’t like it at all.
“I thought he was, but I was wrong.”
“You’re never wrong.”
“I am. I was.” Wow. It’s not as hard for me to admit as I thought it would be.
“Why didn’t you tell me that earlier today?”
“I was pissed.”
He looks confused. “Why?”
“Because you told me to go. And because it was awful, and I kept thinking about you the whole time, and I don’t know if you were thinking about me. Because I came here again before my date and practically begged you to tell me not to go.”
“I couldn’t do that,” he interjects. “I would never do that to you. You’ve been told what to do your whole life.”
I smile at him as things start to make a lot of sense. “You wanted me to have what we both thought I wanted.”
He seems to think that over for a while before he nods slowly. “I think so. That was kind of hard to follow.”
I laugh and grab the back of his neck with my hand, leaning my forehead into his. “I shouldn’t have gone.”
“He’s what you wanted though.”
I shake my head, still resting against his forehead. “I haven’t wanted him for a long time. I didn’t want to go.”
“Well, why did you go then?” He lifts his head and looks into my eyes.
“Because you told me to, jackass.” He smiles, happy and bright. The way he’s supposed to look.
“Oh.”
I laugh. “Yeah. Oh. Maybe we’re both a little dense.”
His grin kicks up a little higher on one side now. “So you aren’t dating him?”
“Nope. We said we’ll be friends, but I doubt I’ll ever talk to him again.”
“But what about—” he starts, but I don’t let him finish. We can worry about the details later. About all the things we should talk about and figure out, but right now I just want my lips on his, and that’s what I do.
I kiss him, pressing into him and holding onto the back of his neck. He kisses me back, sending a feeling of overwhelming rightness through me.
I kiss him until my lips are numb and my body is thrumming with need. We’re already stripping each other’s clothes off before we even make it through the patio door and into his house.
He’s naked by the time we collapse onto his living-room couch, and I quickly rid myself of the rest of my clothes. “Please tell me you have lube somewhere out here,” I breathe against his lips.
“Shit. No. I’ll go get some.”
I push him back down on the couch and rush into his room. I come back with a bottle of lube and stop to admire his naked body, my gaze drifting over every hard muscle. “Fuck. I missed this.”
“It’s only been a couple of days.”
“Longest days of my life.” I’m not even embarrassed by how dramatic I sound as I squirt some lube into my hand and walk closer to him. I reach for his thick shaft and slide my hand up and down, twisting lightly at the head and making him moan softly. Pleading.
“Fuck. I want inside you so badly.”
I grin at his admission. “I need that too.” I reach behind myself with my lubed fingers, getting myself ready quickly because I can’t wait anymore. “Fuck. I really need that.” I lean my head back and let myself feel everything.
“Jesus.” I realize my eyes were closed and open them when I hear his strangled word. He’s breathing heavily, his hand jerking his cock as he watches me, and I move closer to him, batting his hand away and climbing onto his body.
“Mine.” I lean forward and kiss his lips hard, reaching behind me and positioning his cock at my prepared, slick hole.
“Yours.” He thrusts up into me, and a jolt of pleasure slides up my spine, my ass stretching around his thick cock.
“Fuck yes,” I say, bracing my hands on his firm chest and riding him hard and fast, loving each time he thrusts up and deep inside me, stroking over my prostate and making my balls draw up tight. “Harder.”
He does what I ask, gripping my hips with his big hands and planting his feet on the couch, thrusting into me, deep and hard, making me cry out.
“Fuck, Travis. So good. Too good,” he mumbles just as I reach for my cock, and it only takes three strokes before I’m crying out and my cum splashes his lower belly and chest. “Holy shit, that was so hot.” His voice is strangled and tight as his back arches, his cock pressing into me deeper as it jerks and releases, his cum coating my insides.
I collapse onto him, a sweaty panting, happy mess. “Holy shit.”
“Yeah, fuck,” he breathes, and I feel him kiss the top of my head.
This is what I want.
And I’m so fucking stupid for not realizing it earlier.
THIRTY-FOUR
OAKLEY
I can’t believe he’s here. I thought for sure it was over, but he’s here. In my bed. In my arms.
But I still don’t feel 100 percent better. I don’t know if this was a goodbye or if he’s sticking around. And if he’s sticking around, I don’t think that will make me feel all that much better. He’s not meant for small-town life.