“You,” I tell him honestly. “I’m embarrassed to say that, um…I don’t know what all I want. Or if I…I’m just, uh…totally new to all of this, you know? And not just because we’re both guys, but…allof this. I’ve never…not with anyone. I mean, with you, in my imagination? Um, yeah.But real life? Nope. And…” I thread my fingers through my hair. “So, I might not know how to ask for what I want. And I’m, like, 97% sure I’ll completely suck, but—”
“Booker,” he shakes his head.
“No, I’m serious. I’m a twenty-one-year-old virgin who finally admitted to myself that I’m gay. So...yeah. Total new guy here.” I grip his hand tighter, brushing over his knuckles with my thumb. Having our bodies connected, even in this small way, makes me feel anchored and a little less uncertain. “I don’t know what I’m doing,” I repeat. “I just know I’ve never wanted anything as much as I want you. Nothing tastes as good as your lips. Nothing feels as good as your hand in mine. So, I’m, uh, pretty sure that when we get to the really good parts my head might explode.”
He leans in, cupping my face. “If that kiss was anything to go by, Booker, they’re all the really good parts.” He kisses my jaw, and I get the feeling that, around Ian, my entire body is one big erogenous zone.
I pull him toward me, my goal to get us both horizontal on this couch. I may not be well-versed in making out, but this seems like a good place to start. At least, it does until Ian stops me with a hand to my chest.
“Hold up. If we’re doing this, we’re doing it right.”
“Like, on a bed?” Sounds good to me.
“Uh, no.”
“In the back seat of a car? That seems silly. We’ve got the place to ourselves, Ian.”
He bites back a smile before clearing his throat. “I mean, we’re doing this the proper way. I want to explore this with you, Booker, never doubt that. But we’re going to take our time. In fact,” he tells me, sitting up and smoothing out his clothes, “I’m taking you on a date.”
“A date? Like, get dressed up and go to a nice restaurant?” There’s a hesitation to my voice because as nice as that sounds, I’d rather stay here and see where things go. I’ve waited twenty-one years to feel this good, and I’m not interested in hitting the pause button.
“Actually, I have something a little more casual in mind. Dress comfy, and I’ll pick you up at seven, ok?”
Wait, he’s leaving? I throw myself at the guy, and he says he’ll be back for me in five hours? “Ian, if—”
He touches a finger to my lips. “Don’t even think it. I want you, Booker. I want this. I just want us to take our time, ok?”
I feel like pouting, but I know he’s right. “Ok, I get it. See you at seven”
Ian leans in for another scorching kiss. “I can’t wait.”
* * *
Ian
If someone would have told me when I woke up today that I’d be taking Booker on a date tonight, I’d have figured I was still dreaming. But no, this is my life, and I’m damn happy about it. Don’t get me wrong, I was tempted to strip down in his living room and show him exactly what he’s been missing, but I was being honest when I said I wanted us to take our time. Booker is special to me, and I want to do this right.
When he kissed me, I was momentarily stunned. I had no clue I wasn’t the only one of us with a crush. But looking back, so many of our interactions make so much more sense. All those times he was awkward and nervous, and I thought I’d offended him? Apparently not.
Given what I know about Booker, I’m not sure how ready he is for a romantic night on the town for two. And I don’t want to push him. At the same time, I want him to feel special and I want us to have fun. I thought about heading out to Little John’s again, but then I remembered a flier I saw on campus earlier this week. So, I grab my jacket and head for The Chapel.
Twenty minutes later, we pull into the parking lot of a local park.
“Food trucks?” Booker asks, excitement in his voice.
“Yeah, I thought it would be fun. And don’t panic. I checked and there’s a vegan wagon here tonight, and one of the trucks has kale salad.”
“That’s sweet that you checked.” He blushes. “But after my kale salad, I’m heading straight for the funnel cake. After you left this afternoon, I had energy to burn.” His cheeks flame. “So, I may have done a week’s worth of cardio. And some weights.”
“Well, I graded papers all afternoon, but I’ll still eat funnel cake.”
We walk around the park for a bit and it kind of reminds me of the farmer’s market back home. There’s a stand with fresh produce and a lady selling candles. An older couple has a display of jams on a card table and it looks like the guy is whittling something. I must have a funny look on my face, because Booker turns to me with concern in his eyes.
“You ok, Ian?”
“Yeah, I’m great, actually,” I say. “But I suddenly got a little homesick. This place reminds me a little of the farmer’s markets my family goes to.”
“Do you miss them?”
