Straight

XXV

The cold night air is sobering, but when she looks at him under the bright streetlamp he sees her pupils are dilated. 
She's turned on. For him. 
This is awesome, right? 
"I live very close to here." she breathes, and tugs on his hand. "Just around the corner."
"Okay." he manages. 

She puts the key in the lock and pulls him into her room. Just like Brett did, just a couple of days ago. But no. He wasn't going to think. She pushes him against the wall and her mouth is on his again, but more insistant now. She bites his lip and grunts as she pushes her breasts against him. Her hand is on his fly, and he kisses her back with vehemence. 
She's so pretty, and he remembers being hard at the bar. He remembers her breasts, straining against the fabric. He can touch them now, he knows he's allowed. He knows he's allowed to take her blouse off, in fact, and take her nipple into his mouth. 
But he can't, somehow he can't, because he's standing there by the door like that and he can't stop the thoughts, not anymore. And she knows, because she can feel him, her hand is on him and she knows full well that he's completely soft. She lets go very suddenly and backs away. 
The world comes crashing down around him when he sees her trying not to look disappointed. 
Fuck. Oh, fuck. Now he's fucked this up too. And what can he ever do to make this right again? Say sorry, give me a moment? 
He knows full well he can't. Because this... well, he knows now beyond any doubt that this wouldn't be fair either. 
"I'm so sorry." he breathes. The tears are back, just underneath his eyes, but he manages to keep them down. 
She nods. "You were into it at the bar."
"Yes. I'm so sorry. It's not you, Jill, you're perfect. It's me."

Suddenly she walks into her room and sits down on a small, girly-looking sofa bed. He follows her a bit awkwardly. He has no idea what to do or say to her now. 
"I'm really sorry." he says again, stands there helplessly. 
"Sit down." she says, and he does. Then she looks up at him. Her eyes aren't dilated anymore, they are sober as fuck. As sober as Brett's, almost.  
"It's Brett, isn't it?" she asks him then, and the world crashes down again. 
"Wai.. wha?" he manages. She smiles and nods. 
"Yeah. I should have seen it sooner. You're in love with Brett. It's okay, I get it."
He knows he's staring at her like a moron, but he can't help it. He can't believe she's seen, he can't believe he's failed. What is he supposed to say now? What can he possibly say, but the truth? A tear flows over, and he swipes at it without thinking. 
"Yes." he says then, softly. "Look, Jill, I... God, I'm so sorry. I never meant... I tried... I mean... I really do like you. You're real pretty, and funny, and great. And I thought I could... and he doesn't..."
She holds up her hand to stop him from talking, then puts it on his thigh. 
"It's okay, Eddy."
"No, it's not!" he says, his voice shooting up a minor seventh. "I'm hurting everyone."
She grins softly and squeezes his thigh. 
"You're not hurting me. Yeah, you're real cute. And I got super horny when we danced, I thought you did too, and I would have loved to have fucked you silly tonight. But I'm not heartbroken, or anything. Don't worry."
"I did. You know, at the bar... I-I did." he tells her honestly. 
"So, are you bi, then?"
He blinks at her and for a moment his mind is blank. Wow. All of this confusion, worrying, obsessing... and really, this isn't something he had even considered. 
"Er, yeah, I guess." he says softly. "I dunno. God, Jill, I'm sorry. No one knows how I feel about Brett. God, I've only known myself for about two days."
She grins. 
"Two days, huh? And you thought you'd sex it out of your system with me? Oh well. That would have been nice."
He grins too, but more with relief than anything else. She's not mad, she's not hurt. Thank God.  
"You're right. It would have been nice."
Suddenly she looks at him again, and her eyes are even more sober than before. 
"For what it's worth, Eddy... I've seen the way he looks at you. Not just the last days, but forever. Are you sure you shouldn't talk to him? Ask him how he feels?"
He stares at her for a moment. 
"Talk to him? Nah, he's made it pretty clear he wants us to carry on how we were."
"He's said that?"
Eddy shrugs. 
"No. But I know it's what he wants."
She shrugs too. 
"Well, if you're sure."