So, I went to the shop on the corner, got a pack and a lighter and ended up behind the factory, lighting up for the first time in five years.
The first puff tasted like shit and had me coughing up half a lung. The second wasn't much better.
Leaning against the brick wall, I focused on the bitter taste of smoke in my mouth. How had I ever smoked this shit regularly? It was disgusting. Thank God Melissa had convinced me to stop.
She hadn't liked the smell, and it had always made her cough. At the time, I couldn't run like I used to either and I got breathless going up a set of stairs if there was one step too many, so it had seemed like a no brainer.
And it turned out that quitting was easy when it was negatively impacting someone you loved.
Now though, I thought,fuck it.I should start smoking in the bedroom. Let her suffer a bit for what she'd done…
Except, I wasn't sure I had a leg to stand on anymore becauseRyan....
I shut my eyes, remembering too vividly for my liking the things I'd been too drunk to care about at the time. Like the feeling of Ryan's cock against mine.
The fact that a make out session had happened twice now was enough to make me feel like I was living in the twilight zone.
Ending up accidentally underneath him while he felt me up was a stretchonce. Twice, and I probably had to admit it wasn't much of an accident at all.
I pulled out another cigarette, seeking something to do with my hands.
This time, it didn't burn as much going down. By the second or third puff, it actually felt kind of okay. Calming.
I shut my eyes and took another drag, releasing it slowly while the news that Ryan wasn't straight circulated in my head again, like it had been doing on a loop since waking up on Saturday morning.
Ryan had behaved normally. So had I. But every now and then, our gazes would catch, and I knew we were both thinking about the fact that I'd woken up in his bed. Still dressed, only because Ryan was a motherfuckinggentlemanwhile I had been ready to do…anything.
I hadn't even known whatwouldhappen. I'd just wanted Ryan to take the reins. For him to make me feel good and wanted.
I guess I'd been using him.
Inside, I must have known that he would say yes. That he was into men.
The thing was, if Ididknow that beforehand, I had no recollection of when that realization had come. He had never acted gay, whatever that meant. I'd never seen him checking out men. He'd never gone home with one on any night when I'd been there to see it happen.
He hooked up with girls occasionally but never dated them. At least, I hadthoughtthat he’d been hooking up with girls here and there. I didn’t exactly have evidence.
Yet when he'd said that he wasn’t straight, I hadn't been surprised.
I snorted.
Yeah, well, his dick had been pretty hard, so maybe that was why.
But mine had been hard too. Rubbing together would do that to a guy...
My thoughts were going in circles and I kept cutting it off right there. Every time they started to move in the direction ofme,it was like I'd suddenly had enough of it. I didn't want to face it.
But the truth was hard to ignore.
I'd liked it.
I'd liked how he felt. How he smelled. How he kissed. How he sounded moaning and whispering in the dark.
I took a shuddering breath, my heart skidding into my ribs, cock thickening in my work pants.
Fuck. I couldn't get hard thinking aboutRyan.Not when I wasn't drunk and desperate for affection.
Sometimes lately, I felt like I was starving for it. Like I'd do anything to be touched and loved.
