CHAPTER twenty-three
Greg Sanderson had a bobblehead collection. Famous baseball players Ethan didn’t recognize, Family Guy characters, and even a Muppet hidden in the back. He had them lined up in neat row on his dresser, not a speck of dust to be found. One glimpse inside Greg’s bedroom, and Ethan already knew so much about him.
“Ethan, wait up.” Lorna froze when she reached the threshold, which was the all-too-appropriate word here. This was more than a room. It was a mecca for Ethan. Real uncharted territory.
He took in every detail. The Kappa Kappa Sigma banner hanging on the wall. The PC laptop closed on his desk. Two button-down shirts—one plaid, one solid navy—hanging over his desk chair. Ethan never realized how much he craved details.
And then there was Greg’s bed, which consisted of a rumpled brown comforter bunched over the sheets with pillows mashed together in a corner.
“You shouldn’t be in here,” Lorna said, and it sounded like a challenge.
Ethan squatted down and smelled the sheets. He squeezed them in his fist. It was Greg’s scent, the comingling of his laundry detergent and fabric softener mixed with his natural boy scent. In that moment, he felt like Greg was behind him, enveloping him in a hug. They’d never hugged. Ethan missed him.
“I have an idea.” Lorna’s smile got him intrigued. “Give me your phone. We’re going to text Greg a picture.”
“Of what?”
“Of you. On his bed. Showing him what he’s missing.”
Were Ethan sober, he would have told Lorna how stupid the idea was. How Greg would see the text and be totally creeped out.
Were Ethan sober…
“Yes! That’s perfect!” Ethan handed over his phone and sat on the bed. “Greg is going to be so turned on.”
Ethan leaned back on the bed. Greg’s comforter cushioned his back.
“Eh, that’s not sexy.” Lorna tapped her finger to her lip. “Get on all fours.”
“Like a dog?”
She nodded. “Like doggie-style.”
Ethan got into position. He stuck his butt out and looked to the camera. Lorna wasn’t feeling it.
“Do I look sexy?”
“Not sexy enough. Here, get on your knees and face me.”
Lorna had Ethan get into what she called a “supermodel on the beach” pose. He spread his knees apart and bent his arms over his head.
“Imagine Greg is underneath you fucking your brains out. Show me that face.”
Some embarrassment crept into Ethan’s alcohol-soaked brain while he posed, but he wanted to turn Greg on. He wanted Greg to notice him and be compelled to text him back. He pictured exactly what Lorna asked, and the sexiness was a champagne fountain rolling over him and filling him up. He pouted his lips and gave the camera his best “don’t you wanna fuck me” stare.
“Yes! Yes! This is so hot!” Lorna exclaimed.
“OH YEAH! GIVE IT TO ME, BABY!” Sahil cheered them on from the doorway.
And Greg was right beside him. He was not cheering.
Ethan sprung off the bed and tripped onto the floor. Greg knelt to help him out.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Greg asked through gritted teeth.
“Taking pictures.”
“You’re drunk.”
“You are very observant.”
“How did you sneak in here? Lorna?”
“You remembered my friend’s name?” Ethan was touched. And in response, he touched Greg. He curved his hand around Greg’s forearm.
Greg moved his hand away. Ethan put it back, and Greg took it away, this time more forcefully. “Easy there.” He leaned in, and Ethan got a whiff of his woodsy cologne.
“Lorna, are you shooting a porno in here?” Sahil asked. Lorna slipped Ethan his phone.
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” she cooed back.
“Dude, you are drunk!” Sahil said to Ethan, unaware that his tequila was to blame. “Looks like he wants to jump your bones, Sanderson. You should probably wash your sheets.”
“Can we talk in private?” Ethan asked Greg. He tried to put a hand on his knee, but Greg stood up and took a step back.
“I’d be careful, Sanderson.”
Ethan had never seen Greg so stern, so reserved, so much like Ethan. “Dude, you mind getting off my floor?”
It was like a javelin through the heart. Lorna seemed to get what was going on in an instant. She was that good. She turned to Sahil and stabbed his chest with her finger. “You still owe me a tequila shot.”
She continued tapping him until he escorted her back to his room. The boys were alone. Greg’s whole body seemed to exhale.
“I’m sorry,” Greg said softly.
Ethan didn’t respond. He remained on the floor, like something Greg discarded.
“C’mon, Folly.” Greg had a pleading look in his eyes, a rare moment of seriousness. “Let’s just go to Sahil’s room, pretend this never happened.”
“What never happened? You and me?”
“No, of course not. Just your whole amateur photo shoot. Come on.” And there was Greg’s smile again.
He couldn’t say no to that beautiful face and pouty lips. Greg pulled Ethan off the floor. Ethan held on for a few lingering seconds, and it was as exciting as any of their hookups. He could feel the electric current in Greg’s strong hands pass into him. Until Greg pulled away. Ethan realized just how often he pulled away, no matter how hard Ethan pushed.
“I came here to set the record straight,” Ethan said. “And I did. We can suck each other’s dicks in public. We just can’t hold hands.”
Ethan stepped around him and took in the room, the posters on the walls. He flicked one of the many bobbleheads on Greg’s dresser.
“Folly, I’m sorry. It’s tough for me, okay? I have a reputation to protect.”
“We kissed.” Anger settled into Ethan’s eyes. “We were outside my dorm, and I kissed you, and you didn’t pull away. You kissed me back. What did that mean?”
Greg’s eyes darted around the room, searching for an answer. “I don’t know.”
“I think you do.”
“What do you want? You expect me to walk out this door and proclaim you my boyfriend? You think it’s just that easy?”
“It’s not. I know that.”
“Then stop pushing. What we have, it ain’t broke. So stop trying to fix it.”
“It’s just sex with us.” He shook his head, so frustrated with himself. “And here I thought maybe it was more.”
This time, Ethan didn’t have to storm out like he had at the clothing store. Greg opened the door for him.