We go all the way.
I'm not going to recount all the details because it's blurry and it just happened so I need to let it settle in my head before I tell anyone. Before I even let myself revel in the memory.
After taking a minute to simply breathe, my eyes sleepily falling shut as a result from the alcohol and physical activity, Scott slowly sits up. I glance at him, but it's pretty dark, so I can just see and hear his figure shifting. His naked back is toward me, and his head is bowed.
I wonder what he's doing until I hear him exhale a small, shaky breath.
“Scott?” I whisper, so softly even I can barely hear it. “Are you okay?”
There's no answer for a moment, and that concerns me, so I begin to sit up. His voice stops me.
“Yeah, I'm okay.”
Hesitantly, I lay back down. I would rather stay up and investigate, but the alcohol is like a weight that makes my head sink easily towards the pillow.
But then I hear uneven breaths that sound like crying, and I get even more worried than I already was. I actually feel sick for the selfish reason that he might already regret making the decision to give himself to me tonight.
I force myself up again, fighting against the weight in my brain and the burning I feel in my nether regions, and scoot over to where he is on the edge of the bed. He has a sheet over his lap while his legs dangle off the side of the bed. I wrap a blanket around myself, hiding my exposed parts, and stay behind him but definitely close enough to know he's crying.
“What's wrong?” I ask gently and genuinely.
He shakes his head a little, not looking over at me. Granted, I'm behind him, so it might be awkward, but I miss his face.
“There's just a lot of emotions attached to tonight. I'm sorry, Mitch, it has nothing to do with you. You were great.”
While that makes me smile, I still want to know what his emotions are. I actually do care about how he feels.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
He shakes his head again. “No honey, but thanks for offering.”
I think the cute pet name was just a way to keep me satisfied so I don't keep prying at his emotions.
“I know that what just happened must be difficult for you since you haven't done anything since Christian died,” I say, still speaking softly. “I know this isn't nearly to the extent you're feeling it at, but I haven't had sex in so long, I felt like I was losing my virginity again.”
I release a half-hearted chuckle.
Scott nods, and suddenly I can see the outlines of tears sliding down his cheeks. “That's exactly how it felt for me, too.”
I only kind of understand what he means. He keeps wiping the tears away, not wanting me to see that he’s crying, or maybe he just doesn’t want to be crying in general. It hurts my heart.
He continues to cry silently, then looks up after a minute and fans his face, trying to stop the tears. “Sorry,” he apologizes. “I just miss him so much.”
As he says that, his voice cracks, and he covers his mouth trying to hold in the sobs. It’s safe to say that I don’t know what to do, but I’m not going to say that this has never happened before. Like, I’ve had sex with someone and they cried after. It wasn’t because they missed their dead husband, but still, it happened. And it was really uncomfortable. Maybe I’ll tell Scott about it later and we can laugh about how it keeps happening to me.
The guy cried because after we had sex he was coming to terms with the fact that he was fully gay, not bisexual as he had told everyone. While I was happy for the clarity in his life, we were in my dorm room, naked, and he wouldn’t leave. He just stayed there, crying, and we didn’t even know each other that well. It was sooooo awkward.
At least no one cried when I lost my virginity. The whole thing was humiliating, but no one cried. I guess that’s a step up from what has been happening from there on out.
I snap myself back into now, though, figuring out how to help Scott. I lean my head against his back.
“I know you told me that you didn’t want me thinking about him while we were doing stuff,” he says, sniffling, “and I wasn’t. It’s just all kind of hitting me now.”
“What’s hitting you now?” I whisper, my forehead feeling the warmth of his skin. I think I know, but I think it’s important for him to admit out loud what’s bothering him.
He wipes his face before answering. “That Christian is gone, and where my life is right now, that I’m living in this crappy apartment and raising a child by myself.” He takes a long pause, but I can tell there’s more. “And the fact that… that I think I’m falling in love with you. But I just can’t say for sure because I haven’t fallen in love with someone for a really long time, and there’s been this block in my heart of just pure grief, so I don’t know if I’m interpreting it wrong, and I don’t want to tell you anything that’s not 100% true.”
He’s rambling, but it’s slow and cute. When he says that part about falling in love with me, I feel giddy. So giddy that I’m internally doing cartwheels, but in my intoxicated brain it makes my body actually feel like I’m turning upside down, which causes my stomach to feel sick, so I force myself to stop. But trust me, I’m still giddy.
“What can you tell me that’s 100% true?” I don’t know why I felt the need to ask, but I did.
“That I think I’m falling in love with you. But I don’t think I will completely love you until I’m done grieving.”
I nod against his back, let silence fall, then scoot back to my side of the bed, reaching out and tugging his arm. “Come back and lay down with me.”
“Just a second.”
He stands, and even though I can’t see anything in particular, I know he’s walking around naked, and that makes me tingle. I think he’s going to the bathroom because he leaves the room. I snuggle into my side of the bed, closing my eyes and allowing myself to drift. I’m almost asleep when he comes back in. He doesn’t climb in right away, and when he finally does, I feel slippery material against my bare backside. He must have put on some basketball shorts.
I quickly adjust to his presence in bed, cuddling into him and falling asleep. But something tells me he was up for a while after I drifted away.
-
It turns out Lindsey’s friend doesn’t live too far from Kirstie, so I stop by Kirstie’s first to tell her everything about the night before. I don’t want to risk Lindsey hearing anything pertaining to it. I don’t want Adam to hear either, so I text Kirstie before I get there and request for her to keep Adam out of the room for a little while. That makes her really excited.
So excited in fact, that when I knock on the door, she opens immediately and yanks me in. “Tell me everything, tell me eeeverythiiinnnggg!”
“Where’s Adam?” I ask, keeping my voice down.
“Taking a shower, so be quick! Tell me!”
“It happened,” I admit, a stupid smile filling out my features.
She shrieks, and then I shriek because I’m happy about it too. We go to the couch and I tell her how it happened and what happened after, but I don’t spill any details about during because, again, I haven’t let myself comprehend what transpired between us.
Her mouth is gaping basically the whole time.
“I can’t believe I get to meet him today! Oh, now I know so much, I’m going to have to control myself.”
“Don’t say anything.”
“I won’t, I won’t. Now go get Lindsey. I’m excited to meet her too.”
On my way out, we talk about whether Lindsey is talkative or shy, and I realize I don’t really know how to describe her because she alternates. I tell her that I guess we’ll just have to see. We decide to make a bet. Kirstie bets she’ll be talkative. I bet she’ll be shy.
-
I win because she’s totally being shy. Maybe it’s because Kirstie started crying when she met Lindsey, thinking about her future Eliana, and that probably freaked Linds out a little bit, and she didn’t know what to say. So she probably decided that this lady is crazy and it’s best not to say anything that will make her cry again.
Adam seemed to be pretty good with her, though. Like he was kind of awkward at first, but he kept asking her questions to bring her out of her shell a little, and once he realized that he could talk to her pretty much like an adult, I could almost see how relieved he became. They have a relaxed conversation about school and her friend’s house. Lindsey is only just starting to warm up to him.
While Adam and Lindsey are talking, Kirstie and I slip out into the next room and gossip a little bit more. I tell her that Scott has had money hidden for about six months, and there I was, stupid me, feeling sorry and trying to support him. I kind of view it as an “oh well” situation. She views it as an “are you kidding me?” situation. She spends a few minutes ranting about how unfair that was and everything else until Lindsey wanders in the room. Then Kirst gives her a sweet smile and asks how she’s doing.
Lindsey is obviously bored of making small talk, so she asks to play a game on my phone. I don’t really have any games downloaded, but I direct her to the app store to let her pick one out. Before I know it, Adam is starting dinner, and Lindsey tells me that Scott texted me. I steal the phone back from her, checking the time (she’s already been here for two hours! I swear, when Kirstie and I start talking, time just flies by), and see that Scott texted that he’s off a little early and is going to go home and shower quick so he looks decent.
I’m actually really looking forward to this dinner. Scott by my side all night, both of us knowing that, now, we’re so much more than friends. At least, I hope he feels that way too.