Rory caught sight of himself in the wardrobe mirror and grimaced. That sounded like an argument one of Graham’s work buddies would come up with. Being scared of commitment didn’t make him straight.
If he was being honest with himself, those summer flings had just been something to do. Something to make the time pass a little less gratingly while he remained trapped in his own stasisof indecision. When they were over, Rory often felt empty. Like he hadn’t quite gotten what he needed. Like he was hankering for some lasting warmth and connection.
Like he was a useless prick who wasn’t worth anyone’s time.
None of that was solid evidence of his heterosexuality, though.
By contrast, Rory couldn’t argue with his dick. And Jesus, had it put up a strong argument in favour of the blue bugger in the kilt.
The blue merman. The mer-Prince. The guy with actual gills on his actual neck. That, apparently, was what got him hard. Or, you know, it was being kissed by the guy. Being held by those beefy arms. Feeling the heat off his skin…
‘Come off it,’ Rory groaned as his cock stirred again. He’d never had such a strong reaction to anybody before.
More to reassure himself than to relieve his libido, Rory reached for his phone so he could look up some porn. This reminded him he was still missing trousers, and then he remembered why.
He’d fallen in the loch with his phone in his pocket. A hasty scrabble through the pile of wet clothes confirmed the worst: it was dead.
He daren’t wank to whatever his mind might cook up by itself. What if the blue man turned up in there? Much safer to find some safe, normal porn on his laptop instead.
You mean heterosexual, not normal,his conscience chided.Unless you want to try watching something gay.
Fuck, no.
Ironically, he navigated to the lesbian section and fapped out a quick release to the scene of two women eating each other out. It did the trick—his cock still worked, he still liked women. Presumably.
What if I like men and women?
Nooooooope. Rory shoved the thought down again. Despite this, it continued to bounce back up even as a pair of soft round tits bounced on his screen.
He snapped the laptop closed.
Rory cleaned up, feeling self-conscious despite being alone. He was also still avoiding thinking about theotherpart of the blue merman situation. The part that was still tugging on his chest like an invisible string. The part that the blue freak had called theirbond.
Soul mates. Rory didn’t believe in anything like that.
But he hadn’t believed in mermen half an hour ago, either.
A booming knock at his front door had Rory jumping out of his skin. Was it the blue man, back to fuck some sense into him?
I did not just think that,Rory prayed, hoping his dick hadn’t heard.
He approached the door warily, then relaxed as Graham’s voice filtered from the other side.
‘Oy, oy, Rory! You in there?’
Rory opened the door. Graham seemed slightly worse for wear than when he’d left him—roughly five drinks worse for wear—but his face lit up on seeing Rory. ‘Ah, there you are. Got me worried.’
‘Worried?’ Rory raised an eyebrow. He desperately hoped nothing about the last hour was readable on his face. ‘What for?’
Graham leaned heavily against the door frame. His words were slurred but well-meaning. ‘We-ll. Seemed unlike you to pop off without a word.’
‘I might’ve been with a girl,’ Rory suggested coolly.
Graham snorted. ‘Ha, good one. Who you wasting time with when there’s Sara on your plate?’ He peered closer at Rory. ‘Oh, wait. You serious? There’s someone I don’t know about?’
Ah, fuck. Heat gathered in Rory’s cheeks. It was a little too close to the truth to admit he’d been with anyone at all. What if Graham could tell it was a guy? Was gaydar a real thing?
Even if it was, Graham wouldn’t be able to tell anything becauseRory wasn’t gay.
