I frowned. “As a friend?”
“No. As a non-friend.”
I coughed to clear my throat so I could talk shit and not tell him the truth right away. “Not sure.”
“Liar.”
Huffing, I decided not to bother wasting time lying further when he deserved the truth and would find a way to get it out of me anyway.
“The day we moved to high school. Linc took us all in and he had a bunch of drugs he was supposed to sell on the back seat, and you just sat on my lap instead of moving them because we were running late. At first I just thought it was just… you know, like hormones.” I snorted. “But then it didn’t stop. I kept thinking about you, and not in a PG-13 sort of way.”
I felt Misha grinning against my chest. “How come you never told me?”
“Because I love you and I knew I would rather have you as a friend than not at all.” It was obvious to me why I had kept quiet, but it seemed it had been too much of a secret for him and I wanted to explain. “I don’t know if this sounds stupid, but I always thought there was something there — you reciprocated sometimes. When people would hit on you and you’d just be nervous and not follow through, or when I got drunk and crashed in your bed…”
He’d never touched me. Not once had he put his hands on me as anything more than friendly. But he’d also never pushed me away. When I’d cuddled him, he’d relaxed into my embrace. When I slept in his bed and we woke up as a tangle of limbs at four in the morning, he’d never tried to get me to move or said anything about needing space. When I touched him – even though it was friendly – I’d always felt like he’d lingered. Like his hugs were longer than ones he gave to Logan or something.
I knew how I felt when I saw him looking at me.
“Do you remember…” Misha paused, swallowing the lump in his throat or whatever was making him so quiet. “Do you remember the night you first came to live with us?”
I had been drunk then – blackout drunk. Not just because I had been drunk enough before finding out my parents were dead and having Mal pick me up from the cops and bring me to my new home. The night had been spent crying and drinking anything Lincoln had given me as he promised that I wasn’t alone, even if it felt like I was.
I shook my head. “I think I’ve blocked most of it out. Why?”
“You were upset and didn’t want to sleep alone, so you stayed in my bed,” He replied.
“I vaguely remember.” Not a lot, but enough to know that I had felt safe as I sobbed myself into a drunken sleep.
“You said you loved me, then you kissed me and then passed out.” Misha kept his words soft. “I knew then that I felt something. Something more than just the friendship feelings I had for you. But I also knew you were drunk and grieving, and so I fobbed your actions off as part of that. And I didn’t understand what it meant for me either. So I presumed it meant nothing, and I made myself forget about it.”
Oh shit. I didn’t know I’d done that. I had no idea that any of it had occurred and though I felt the tiniest bit of guilt for drunkenly kissing one of my best friends, I couldn’t say I wassorry for it. If I’d set off the chain of events that made him realize he wanted me the same way I wanted him, then I was all for it.
“When did you think you might like me?” I wondered. “Was it when I kissed you in the gym?”
“Yes, and no. I always felt something toward you and knew it was different to the others, but I didn’t realize what it meant until you kissed me.” He leaned against my side, curling up in a ball, our hands linked. “I never really had crushes on anyone. Like I didn’t notice people all that much and when I did, there was never anything that specifically made me think I wanted them romantically.” He sighed. “I’ve been thinking a lot lately, and talking to Linc about stuff, and I don’t think I’m bisexual.”
“Oh, yeah?” The fact he was opening up to me warmed up my heart far more than it already was.
I was fairly sure I was in danger of melting into a puddle of Price goo. Fuck it. I’d still be hot as a goo puddle. It was fine.
Misha nodded. “I’m not like you are, where you have a type for both men and women and you go for the same stuff, like blondes and people smaller than you, or whatever.”
“What do you think you might be?” I didn’t give a damn regardless of what he answered because he liked me, and that was all that mattered to me.
“I’m not sure. I definitely think you’re good looking, same for Saph, but it’s more than that. It’s like I’m… I’m in love with what’s inside you both the most. That’s what draws me in, long before I think about sex stuff or how you look. Does that make sense? Like, you’re beautiful on the outside, but I love your soul. That’s what makes sense to me the most, and I know that if you or Saph changed the way you looked, or if you both happened to be men, or women, I’d still be more than interested in you both just for how you are as humans.”
Yeah, I was definitely a goo pile. I was surprised the bed hadn’t been covered in me. Well, I supposed the bed had been covered in parts of me, but that wasn’t what I currently meant.
“Sexuality is a spectrum.” I grinned at his compliment. “It always makes sense because it’s how you feel. You don’t need to pick a label or anything.” I pulled him tighter against me. “I know I labelled myself, but that’s because I know it’s true. If you don’t feel like you fit into the same sexuality label as me, then that’s fine; you can just be whoever you want to be, and I will be here to enjoy all the benefits.”
In the same way that I knew I preferred women a little more than men, Misha was perfectly fine with only liking certain things too. The fact he liked me and Saph showed he had excellent taste.
“Good.” He grinned. “I just wanted to make sure you understood where my head was at – and that you knew I did like you. I like all of this.”
Lifting my hand, I trailed my fingers over his cheekbones. “I like all of this too. The only negative for me right now is that we have to get up and pack.”
Misha laughed as he slowly dragged himself out of bed, pulling me up with him.
