Dancing to the Truth (The Brent Trilogy 3)

Chapter 4

I kissed Marcus back, my cock becoming instantly hard in the shorts I was wearing, suddenly too tight.

And then I pulled back.

Marcus's glasses were a bit askew, but he looked all the more adorable for it. Old Brent would've gone back to kissing him, but I was trying to do better this time around. I just turned my head towards the coffee table upon which my unfinished mojito was sitting, grabbed my drink and drowned it.

I was a bit buzzed, but not to the point to pursue this further without considering everything else in between—my friendship with Marcus being the thing that concerned me most of all right now.

Marcus was patiently waiting for me to face him again, putting both of his hands on my knees after he straightened up his thick-rimmed glasses.

"Marcus..." I started, but I didn't know what exactly I wanted to say, much less how I wanted to say it.

"Yeah?" he said, and he leaned closer to me.

The sudden closeness to another aroused man, because I could clearly tell that Marcus had a huge boner in his jeans, was so intoxicating and I could feel myself slip into old habits. It was just so easy to get lost in the body of another, but I had to do better. I had promised this to myself a few months ago. And what was a man worth if he couldn't keep the promises he made to himself?

"I... I don't know how to say this..."

I struggled to find the words.

Marcus leaned back from me, and he let go of my knees. Without his palms resting on my body, suddenly I felt very cold even though the temperature in the room was more than satisfactory.

"It's cool," said Marcus, and he grabbed his empty mojito glass, and swirled the ice in it, just to keep his hands busy. "You're not into me. I get it. No hard feelings."

I was kicking my own butt mentally.

"No, that's not it at all," I said, and then I let out a big sigh. Marcus looked at me, and I forced myself to maintain direct eye contact as I said my next words. "I am into you. A lot, as a matter of fact. It's just..."

I fell silent again. Marcus was just looking at me, his face unchanged, as he gave me the space that I needed to gather my thoughts. I appreciated him all the more for it.

"You know everything about me. I've confided in you more than I've ever confided in anyone else. What you and me have, this friendship... it's precious to me. The only thing that's keeping me afloat right now. And as you well know, in the past I've ruined a lot of things by thinking with my cockhead instead of my real head. And I don't want that to happen to us. I care for you too much to let something like this happen. I hope that you can understand where I'm coming from."

He was quiet for what seemed a long time, and then he finally nodded. "I understand," he said. "And I'm glad you told me about it."

He got up.

"You want another mojito?" he asked me.

I handed him the glass, and then I followed him to the kitchen.

"You know, I like you a lot, Brent," he continued, as he was making us fresh mojitos for the third time that evening. "I always have, but I also didn't want to make a move because... well, I thought you had a type. And when we almost kissed that one night when you first came to stay with me, and then you pulled back, I have to admit I was confused. But you were going through so much, I figured you needed a friend more than anything else in that moment, so that's what I try to be to you. A friend. And I love being your friend."