I had never in my life been so panicked about traffic. I wished to God there was any way we could go faster, but I knew it was futile.

I sat in the back seat of the car with Adrian, in silence, as the car crept toward the hospital. It wasn’t very far away, but with the traffic, I had no clue how long it might take.

“Hey,” Adrian said softly, and I turned to him. “It’s… it’s going to be okay,” he said.

I knew it was just a platitude—Adrian didn’t know Cheetah, didn’t have any clue what was going on, and he couldn’t possibly know if everything was going to be okay.

And still, I loved that he had said it. I immediately realized that Adrian was right—it was better to have him with me for this ride, have a second person near me to make sense of the raw panic that was searing through my chest.

Because I knew Cheetah. I knew how dumb he could be, how reckless and uncaring when he mixed drugs and alcohol for no reason at all. And I knew if he was in the hospital, that’s what must have happened.

It had been like this before. Cheetah would take some combination of drugs that would lead him to the hospital, and I’d wait by his side while his stomach was pumped. Once, when he actually broke a wrist falling down the subway stairs, I had stayed with him all night when he needed surgery.

It made sense that he still would have me down as his emergency contact. If he hadn’t been to the hospital in the past couple years, there would be no reason to change it.

But this time was different. This time, I wasn’t really Cheetah’s friend or hookup or anything anymore. And I was dragging Adrian into the mess—a mess he didn’t ask for or expect to deal with this evening. I didn’t know what hurt worse, the worry over Cheetah or the guilt about pulling Adrian into it.

I squeezed my hand into a fist so hard that my fingernails bit into my skin. Finally, traffic began to move. I stared out the window at the night buzzing around us, wishing I was anywhere but in the car. I didn’t know what I was going to do at the hospital, didn’t know what I was going to say when Cheetah woke up—

I felt a light touch on my hand, and I turned to see Adrian watching me. He gently unfolded my fist and took my hand in his own, just holding it, saying nothing. He gave it a light squeeze before looking back out the window, holding my hand like it was the most normal thing in the world.

And for the rest of the ride, we sat like that, holding hands in silence.

Eventually, when we arrived at the hospital, I ran in, going through a flurry of workers and nurses who finally let me know where Cheetah’s room was. Adrian stayed in the lobby while I went to Cheetah, finding him asleep in a dimly lit room. It smelled like disinfectant, and the faint beeping of medical machines punctuated the air.

“Hi, there,” a nurse said softly from behind me. “You’re Josh Crane?”

I nodded. “What the hell happened?” I asked.

“Well, he arrived a couple hours ago, just claiming bad stomach pains. When we looked further, though, we found that his appendix was extremely inflamed and he needed to go into surgery right away,” she said. “He was in so much pain that he signed everything, went under quick, and we were successful in removing the appendix. He will need to be here for the night.”

“Oh my God,” I said, feeling blood rush through my body. “It was just an appendix?”

She nodded. “That’s all. He should be better within a few days, but of course, no rigorous activity for at least a few weeks.”

I nodded. “Wow. Jesus. Okay. Thank you so, so much,” I said.

“He should be waking up within the hour. I just wanted to make sure he had someone here when he woke up.”

“Of course,” I said, nodding. “I’ll wait here.”

She walked away, and I sat down, listening to the click of her heels receding down the hallway.

And then, I waited. The sounds of the hospital carried on outside the cracked door as I sat at Cheetah’s bedside, waiting for him to get up. I felt the panic in me subside slowly and become replaced with a sort of resentment.

I didn’t want to care about Cheetah anymore. I didn’t want to think about my old life, to have it constantly hanging around me, to worry that any phone call about Cheetah might mean he had overdosed. I could easily see tonight having gone in that direction. And though it was a huge relief that Cheetah was okay, it also reminded me that I would never truly escape my past.

These were the reasons why, even in some ideal world, I could never realistically be anything serious with Adrian. We were too different, and he knew nothing about this world, about my past. It was true back in high school, and doubly so now that we’d had lives diverging in such opposite directions.

Adrian had no idea what I’d been through in the last ten years. And if he did know, he might never want to associate with me at all. I was bad for his image, but also bad for him. I tried and tried to run from my past, but it swept me back in at a moment’s notice, right when I wasn’t looking.

After an hour had passed and Cheetah hadn’t moved an inch, I got up to use the restroom. I went to the vending machine out in the hallway and got two packets of Kit-Kats. The halls of the hospital were like a labyrinth, and after being turned around a couple times, I found the lobby again, where Adrian was sitting in the corner looking at his phone.

For some reason, Adrian looked angelic. Maybe it was the strange overhead lighting or maybe it was just that I’d been so stressed all night, and seeing him, so serene and stable, seemed like a dream. A big bouquet of flowers and a card were sitting on the table next to him, and as I approached, he looked up at me with those big, brown eyes.

“He’s okay?” Adrian asked. “The nurse told me it was—”

“—just his appendix. Yes,” I said. “I’m just waiting for him to wake up now.”

“I went and got these for you to bring to him,” Adrian said, nodding at the flowers and card. “It was whatever the convenience store down the street had left over.”

“Adrian… you’re too good,” I said, collapsing onto the chair next to him. I felt exhausted even though all I’d been doing was sitting for the past hour.

“It’s the least I could do. You said Tom was a good friend of yours?”

“...Tom?” I said, shaking my head when I realized who Adrian was talking about. “Oh. Right. He goes by Cheetah, actually. Tom is just his legal name. I guess the nurse told you?”

He nodded. “Cheetah. Okay. You’re good friends?”

I paused, trying to think of how best to answer the question. “Once, I would have said we were. But I really don’t know. He’s… from my past.”

“Did things go badly, between you two?” Adrian asked.

“I guess you could say that. Cheetah and I… hooked up a little bit, back in the day. It was never at all serious—and always under the influence of something—but… I don’t think he’s ever really forgotten it. I still owe him money. When I see him, he tries to pull me back into that world.”

“You mean the art world, or drugs?”

“Both,” I replied. “He has this dumb blog where he posts pictures from local parties, The Cheetah that Never Sleeps. He calls it his art, but really it’s just vanity.”

“Oh, jeez—Alora loves that blog,” Adrian said.

I raised an eyebrow. “Your sister has heard of it?”

He nodded. “She was showing it to us a few weeks ago, when I first got back to town. Apparently some friend of hers was in a few of the pictures and Alora thought it was supremely cool.”

“Wow,” I said, shaking my head. “Never thought she would be the type to look at that kind of thing.”

“Alora reads every dumb tabloid and blog hoping that she’ll be mentioned in it,” he said, waving a hand.

I nodded. “Back in the day, I thought being friends with Cheetah would somehow help me make important art world connections. But it was all bullshit, pretty much. I’m so much happier just working at the hotel.”

Adrian watched me with something like sadness in his eyes. He almost looked guilty, which was so ridiculous—he’d been nothing but perfect all night.

“Mr. Crane?” a voice said from behind us. I turned to see the nurse from earlier, signaling me to walk over. “He’s awake.”

Adrian and I both stood up, and he passed me the flowers and card. We walked back down the hallways until we reached Cheetah’s room, and Adrian waited outside while I went in.

“There you are, fucker,” Cheetah said, his voice barely a croak but a big, goofy smile on his face.

“You’re up,” I said, crossing over to his bedside. His eyes were still bloodshot and half-lidded.

“Can you believe it? I’m not in here because of drugs,” he said, smiling. He laughed just a slight bit, but then grimaced. “Okay. No laughing. That hurts.”

“Are you okay, Cheetah?” I asked. “I mean… really okay.”

“I’m doing great, man,” he said. “Certainly a whole lot better than I was this afternoon. Man, that sucker hurt.”

“I bet it did,” I said.

“Dude,” he said, his eyes growing wide. “Did I tell you about what Jason did the other night?”

I shook my head. “Let’s hear it.”

Cheetah went on to tell a long, meandering story about an old friend of ours doing some sort of skateboard trick off the back of someone’s car. Every couple minutes, he would stop to breathe for a while, and sometimes, I almost thought he had gone back to sleep again. The anesthesia was wearing off in waves, but Cheetah seemed to want to push through it.

I was glad to find that he was very much himself again, though. Despite the surgery and the anesthetic, it was very clear that he was in fine spirits and wanted nothing more than to regale me with ridiculous stories.

After about twenty minutes, he finally left me some room to speak.

“You’re feeling better?”

“I mean, it doesn’t feel great, but I think I’m fine,” he said. “They did it all liscopic or whatever.”

“You mean laparoscopic surgery?”

“Yeah! That’s the one. They said I should be able to walk like normal this week.”

“Well, don’t push it too hard,” I said.

“Hey,” he said, motioning for me to come closer so he could whisper in my ear. “They also gave me the good pills. The real good stuff. You want in on some, man?”

I pulled back, sighing. “No, I don’t want in on them, Cheetah,” I said. “And you shouldn’t take too many either, unless you really are in pain.”

“I know, I know,” he said. “I’ll be good.”

Just then, I saw Adrian walk by the open door, poking his head in. He gave me a polite smile, and I nodded, gesturing inside. “Come on in. Cheetah, this is Adrian Terrance,” I said. “He’s… well, my boss, essentially.”

“Oh,” Cheetah said, “hello there.”

“Adrian and I were together when I got the call. He helped a ton, getting me a ride here and bringing these flowers.”

“I’m so glad you’re feeling well, Cheetah,” Adrian said.

I felt a strange sense of worlds colliding, and it was so jarring that it almost gave me vertigo. I never thought that I’d see Cheetah and Adrian Terrance in the same building, let alone the same room. It was like hearing Beethoven’s symphony at the same time as a screamo band.

But here I was, between one person I thought I’d never get to see again and another person I wished I wouldn’t have to see again, both of them very much back in my life.

“Fancy, fancy,” Cheetah said, looking at Adrian from head to toe. “Adrian Terrance? You part of the hotel?”

“Yes—you know it?” Adrian asked, his face genuine.

Cheetah snorted, then winced at the pain. “Yes,” he choked out, “I know it. Everybody in Mistview knows it.”

“I forget that, sometimes,” Adrian said, and when I looked over I saw a slight blush on his cheeks. It was completely goddamn adorable, and another reminder that Adrian truly had no clue what a big deal his family’s business was.

“I get it,” Cheetah said. “This is who you’ve been hanging out with since you ditched us, Joshy?”

I furrowed my brow. “What?”

“Your prince charming, coming to pick you up from the hospital?”

“Christ,” I said. I turned to Adrian, apologizing. “Clearly his anesthesia is still wearing off.”

“It’s okay—really,” Adrian said, but I could see the apprehension in his eyes. “I’m going to step out. I do hope you have a speedy recovery, Cheetah.”

And just like that, he gracefully left the room.

“What the hell was that?” I whispered to Cheetah, who was lifting an eyebrow at me.

“You know what,” Cheetah said. “You’re fucking him, aren’t you? You and Mr. Rich Hotel Guy. I remember how good your blowjobs are. Does he like them? Fuck, I should have known that’s why you left us all behind, Josh.”

“That actually has nothing to do with why I left that world behind. And no, I’m not fucking him.”

“Sure you’re not,” Cheetah said, closing his eyes.

“Cheetah, you need to remove me as your emergency contact,” I said, but all he did was blink at me.

“You’re really not dating him?” he said, his voice a little quieter.

I shook my head. “No. I’m not dating him. Not that it should matter to you.”

“You know I always had a little thing for you, Joshy,” he said, blinking heavily again, and smiling the same loopy smile. “I don’t forget about you, even if you forget about me.”

I paused. “I don’t… forget about you. I just need to be able to live my life.”

“I understand that,” he said, yawning. “And I wanna let you live that life. You’re a shining star, and you should shine on, babe. But we do miss you. You know that?”

I nodded once. “Thanks, Cheetah. But please, please change your emergency contact to someone else?”

“Fine,” he eventually said, with a long sigh. “Your wish is my command.”

“If you’re really okay, I’m going to leave. I already arranged to pay for your ride home.”

“I’m fine without you, Josh,” he said. “I have five people in my phone who would come help me out at a moment’s notice. You’re not the only special one, you know!”

I nodded. “Good,” I said. “Good night, Cheetah. Try to get some rest.”

He just grunted at me as I left the room, walking down the hall until I found Adrian. Before I even said anything, he spoke.

“It’s okay,” he said, pulling me in for a quick, tight hug. “That must have been rough.”

I let out a long breath. “However rough it was for me, I’m sure it was worse for him. I’m not the one who’s out an appendix. But dear God, I’d love to go home, now. And think about anything else.”

“You’ve got it,” Adrian said. Within minutes his car was out front again. On the way back to my place, I could only think one thing: now, being there with Adrian didn’t at all feel like a weird mix of my past and my present.

In fact, it felt perfectly right to be with him right now. I didn’t feel any anxiety or trepidation being at his side—it was just a perfect, companionable silence on the ride home.

And he couldn’t possibly have known how much it meant to me that he had come with me tonight.

When we got back to my place, Adrian stepped out of the car and walked with me to the front of my building. I wondered how differently the night would have gone if we’d made it to the museum instead—maybe we’d be a little wine drunk, maybe we’d be out at a bar, or maybe we’d be outside kissing under the stars.

Far fetched, and useless to think about. But I couldn’t control my imagination.

I stopped at the front stoop, looking back at Adrian, unsure of what to say.

“Thank you, again,” I said, wishing there were better, stronger words to express the gratitude I felt. “For everything you did tonight.”

A gust of wind blew past, and my teeth chattered. The temperature had dipped dramatically tonight, and all I was wearing was a thin sweater.

“Jesus, you’re shivering,” Adrian said, immediately shrugging off his peacoat.

“Oh no, I’m fine—” I said, but he was already reaching around me, draping his coat over my shoulders. It provided a rush of warmth, like a big blanket fresh out of the dryer. “Fuck, this does feel amazing,” I admitted.

He gave me a nod, rubbing his hands together for warmth. “You can borrow it for the night.”

I nodded, watching as the wind blew through his hair, noticing the pink of his cheeks in the cold.

“I should probably be getting upstairs,” I said. “Gonna take me a while to wind down from this night. Gonna treat myself to a microwaved cookie for one, and maybe a nice movie.”

“You’re going to be all alone up there?” he asked, his brow furrowing.

I nodded. “I’ll be okay on my own,” I said.

“You have your roommates, right?”

“Um, well, they’re actually both out tonight—Vanessa is working the night shift, and Ethan sometimes goes clubbing until four in the morning—”

“Let me come upstairs,” he said, his expression serious.

“No, no—Adrian, it’s fine—”

“You need someone tonight,” he said. His voice was gentle and understanding, but also firm. I felt a warmth come over me as I looked over at his eyes, and my stomach did a little flip.

“Are you… sure?” I asked. I knew exactly how resistant Adrian was to coming upstairs last week, and the last thing I wanted was to drag him into a place he was going to hate.

“I’m coming up with you,” he said. “Now let’s get inside. It’s cold out here.” He signaled to his driver, and the black car drove off into the night, leaving us.

“I’m really sorry,” I said, my voice barely audible. Suddenly I had a sharp sense that I might be about to cry, and I really didn’t want to do that in front of Adrian.

But I’d realized how right he was—how much I didn’t want to be alone tonight.

“You have nothing at all to be sorry about,” Adrian said, taking a step closer to me and squeezing one of my hands in his own. “Take me upstairs.”

As soon as we walked inside, I realized I’d made a fatal mistake. I’d been so caught up in the moment, in the promise of Adrian’s company, that I’d forgotten exactly what my apartment was like.

I had never been particularly messy, but the same couldn’t be said for Vanessa and Ethan. The apartment wasn’t a wreck, but it couldn’t have been called pristine. Vanessa had projects of various sorts littering the living room: fabric, clay, various sizes of glass jars with beads scattered around them. Ethan had salvaged a giant cardboard cutout of a vampire from a Halloween garage sale, and it was now standing in the corner of the room.

And for God’s sake, the entire thing was probably about the size of Adrian’s living room in his suite. When we stepped in, the whole place felt about ten sizes too small, with Adrian’s tall frame taking up seemingly so much space.

“Uh, I clean rooms for a living, I’m sorry my own place isn’t… up to snuff,” I said, tossing my keys on the side table and turning on a couple lamps. I shrugged off Adrian’s coat, hanging it on the rack by the door, and then I ran around the room, gathering all my open books into a pile and taking stray coffee mugs and water glasses to the sink. I thanked God that Ethan had seemed to do the dishes earlier that day.

“This place is great,” Adrian said, looking around at all the walls. “I don’t know what you mean by ‘not up to snuff.’ You have so much beautiful art, Josh.”

“Oh, yeah… just stuff I’ve been given or collected over the years,” I said. “I forget they’re even there, sometimes.”

“My place in Oregon was only a little bigger than this,” Adrian said, plopping down on the couch and already making himself at home. It was a massive relief to see that he no longer looked quite so out of place.

“Really?” I asked. “For some reason I pictured you in a gleaming bachelor pad, with views of forests and valleys….”

“God, no,” he said, smiling a little. “I lived on the cheap.”

“I wish I could say the same. This place is actually pretty damn expensive, but… I love being able to live in the city.”

“It’s an accomplishment to be able to swing a nice apartment, even with roommates. It’s awesome, Josh.”

I looked around the room again, stuffing my hands in my pockets. “Ah… can I get you anything to drink? I don’t have much, but Vanessa might have an old bottle of wine somewhere that we’ve never opened. You’d be just the person to open it for.”

“You will never hear me refuse a glass of wine,” he said. “That sounds good.”

After a few minutes, I went to sit by him on the couch, and we clinked together our glasses before drinking.

“To a shitty night, and to being glad it’s over,” I said.

“You got through tonight with flying colors,” he said.

I shook my head. “You have no idea how hard it is to see Cheetah. He’s a part of my past that I’d rather leave in the past, but… he always seems to pop up again. I am still repaying him for some old loans, too.”

“I know how shitty that can be,” Adrian said. “Dredging up old memories that would be better left alone.”

“Things just got… so bad at the end,” I said. “He was doing too many drugs, and I was too… sometimes I look back and I can’t believe who I was.”

“Well,” Adrian said, turning toward me on the couch, “whoever you were, it led to who you are today. And I can tell you—that can only be a good thing.”

It still felt strange to be told things like that. My mom had been saying the same thing to me since I’d gotten clean—after so many years of being constantly worried for me or disappointed in me, she finally had seen me improve. She often said that I should have no regrets, because who I was made me who I am, but I never knew if I could agree.

I felt like I did have regrets. And one of the biggest ones had been in a hospital bed tonight.

“I fucked up so many things,” I said. “When I see him, it all comes rushing back to me. And now, I just want to be done with it, but I wonder if that makes me a horrible friend to Cheetah. I should be there for him if I’m a true friend, right?”

“Only if he’s a true friend to you too, though,” Adrian said. “And it sounds more like he was just using you to enable the parties he loved so much.”

“I know you’re right,” I said. “I was just… so scared. I was so scared I was going to show up at the hospital and find out he’d overdosed. And no matter how long I’ve been away from that scene, I can’t help but feel like it would be partially my fault if that happened. All the times I used to encourage that kind of behavior, by example, years ago. I wish I could do it all over again, the right way, this time.”

“It is not in the slightest your fault, Josh,” Adrian said, his voice concerned. “Cheetah is an adult, and he makes his own choices.”

I nodded, taking another slow sip of wine. “I’m just… so bad at making any real connection. Sometimes I wonder if I’m capable of it without the party atmosphere, or… if I’m just better off being on my own. Not potentially ruining anyone else’s life.”

“Hey,” he said, putting an arm around my shoulder. The warm weight steadied me, and it felt like just that touch was slowly bringing me back down to Earth. It made me feel small, but in the best way—like Adrian was protecting me, shrouding me from everything else in the world. Like he was keeping me safe. “You’re not bad at making real connections. You’re incredibly strong, Josh.”

I was startled at his words. “Strong?” I asked, incredulous. “You really think that?”

“Are you kidding?” Adrian said. “Look around, Josh. Just two years ago you were deep in that world. And when you decided to get out, you did so with strength and skill. You have your own place in Mistview Heights, you have a job you care about, and you’re successful of your own accord.”

I just sat, trying to soak in his words. Adrian didn’t feel ashamed of me, or disgusted at my past… instead, he almost seemed proud of me.

It made me feel like I’d just spun around in circles, and now I didn’t know which way was up. He’d seen so many glimpses into my real life tonight, and he was still here, sitting next to me, with his arm around my shoulder.

“You could do anything you decided on,” he said. “I really believe that.”

“That’s… very kind of you to say, Adrian.” My heart was starting to beat faster now, because of course, hearing anything nice come out of Adrian’s mouth only made me want him more. It was a bad time to be wanting him more, and I knew he was only trying to comfort me, but his touch, his presence, his velvety voice was all too much. I forced myself to keep looking at him, not to break eye contact, to try to look normal and calm.

“And you say you don’t make any real connections, but… I feel one,” he said.

His eyes were devastating. I really had made a mistake bringing him upstairs—now that he was here, on my couch, drinking wine and looking at me… I had no hope of controlling how I felt for him.

Because when he looked at me, I wanted to give him everything. I wanted to throw myself against him and not let go, to pretend the past ten years never happened and that instead, we were meant to be together ever since that night in the garden.

“You feel a connection to me?” I asked, my voice quiet. I took another sip of wine, probably too much, but a nervous flutter had started rolling in my stomach.

He shook his head in disbelief. “You have no fucking idea,” he said. “I feel too much of a connection to you. It’s a problem.” He took his arm away from my shoulder, putting his head in his hands. He scrubbed his palms over my face before looking back up at me.

I furrowed my brow. “Problem? What?”

He stared at me, watching me close, as if he was trying to decide how much to say. “Why do I want to call you up to my room any time I see some silly old movie on TV? Why are you the first person I think of when Mason tells me I have to take a plus one to an event? For fuck’s sake, why can’t I even look at the moon without thinking of kissing you underneath it?”

I watched him close, so conscious of my breathing, unable to form words for a moment. “You… you really think those things?”

“Josh, I…” he said, pausing for a moment before continuing his thought. “I’m not a very good person when it comes to these things. I hurt people needlessly. And I don’t want to—I can’t— do that to you.”

“Hurt people?”

He pulled in a breath. “There’s something wrong with me,” he said. Suddenly, his voice had become a lot more serious. He wasn’t just making light conversation—this was something that ate at him, clearly something that had been eating at him for a long time. Maybe even something he’d never told anyone but me.

“There’s nothing wrong with you, Adrian,” I said.

He shook his head. “It’s exactly what you were saying, when you were talking about not being able to make a connection. I feel like I haven’t made one with someone in a very long time, and… then I come here, and suddenly I feel so comfortable with you, even though I shouldn’t.”

“You shouldn’t feel comfortable with me?” I asked.

His eyes were so full of hurt. “You’re my employee. I haven’t seen you in ten years. So how the fuck do I feel more comfortable with you than anyone? Guys that I slept with—guys I fucked almost every night, and yet I didn’t feel anything close—God, how—”

His voice broke off, and he pulled in a long breath, letting it out.

“I haven’t been kind to a lot of the… guys I’ve been with,” Adrian said. “And that’s why I said no the other night when you asked me to come upstairs. I just couldn’t. I can’t stand the thought of hurting you when I inevitably freeze up, when I inevitably fuck up. And I’m not even supposed to be with you at all, for my stupid fucking public image. I don’t know the script here, Josh, I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”

A thousand emotions were swirling through me at that moment. The first, and most prominent, was shock: shock that Adrian hadn’t run away the other night because he wasn’t interested, but because he was afraid.

That meant he didn’t think I was coming on too strong. He didn’t think I was pushing.

He was just paralyzed by fear.

And fear was something that I could empathize with, on a bone-deep level. Even though our stories were so different, I felt I knew exactly what he meant. Through my years of partying and short-lived flings and boyfriends, one thing had always been true: relationships would burn bright at the start, and then fade and fizzle away right under my nose. Nothing had ever seemed real.

Yet when we were together, it felt real. The only real connection I’d made in years was to my boss’ boss’ boss, a man who had stolen my heart ten years ago and now was back. He was so utterly unavailable but just as irresistible as he had been back then.

“So don’t close me off like the other guys, then,” I said.

“You’re nothing like those other guys,” he said firmly, shaking his head. “I can’t imagine doing that to you. But I know myself.”

“Fuck,” I muttered, shaking my head, sitting forward on the couch.

He sat forward, too, meeting my eyes again, his gaze intense and unwavering. “I wanted to come upstairs so badly last week,” he said, his voice low. “I wanted to call you up to my suite every single night this week. Every time I fucking see you I want you, Josh. And I know I shouldn’t be saying this, and it’s bad, and it’s wildly unrealistic, but—”

“But it doesn’t matter, because nothing is going to happen,” I said.

The words hung between us in the low light, full of questions.

I knew what the right thing to do was. I should have smiled politely, promised to be a good friend to Adrian, and changed the subject. I knew the same process was taking place in his head, too.

But instead of listening to the thoughts flying through my head at a million miles a minute, I just watched Adrian’s eyes. I saw as he drew his bottom lip in, biting it gently before releasing it. I thought about how I knew exactly how soft his hair was, knew how good he felt under my hands, knew exactly how perfect it would feel if I pretended he was mine.

And when the moment had stretched so far that it felt it would break, Adrian reached out. All he did was put his hand at my hip, holding me gently, giving the smallest squeeze.

But that small touch was the answer to my unasked question, was the last straw in a fight I knew I couldn’t win.

“You know we can’t,” I said, my voice a low whisper.

He let out a breath that he’d been holding. He looked wrecked as his eyes danced across my face. “I know,” he replied.

I put my hand on top of his, clutching it hard. Every thought in my head told me to stop, abort mission, in big flashing red letters. Yet it felt like Adrian was a magnet and there was no hope for me to pull away.

And I didn’t want to pull away. I wanted to give in.

So I slid closer to him on the couch, closing the distance between us, and I pressed my lips to his.

And then the switch was flipped again. Adrian came alive at that moment, moaning as I kissed him, and instantly he pressed up against me. It was as if all of his hesitation and anxiety had just been waiting for permission, and now the permission had been granted. He yielded to me, parting his lips, and I felt a flood of heat from his tongue on mine. The feeling went straight to my cock, lighting me up and confirming that I was certainly going to make this mistake tonight.

It was wicked, and wrong, and perfect.

He wrapped his arms around me, pulling me in close to him as we kissed. His hands skated along my back as he held me, and he kissed me deep and slow. In a moment his arms were around my waist, and he hoisted me off the couch and onto his lap, so that I was straddling him, sitting atop his thighs.

He groaned again as I reached down, pushing my hands underneath the hem of his shirt. I moved to kiss along his jaw, and he held me in place for a moment.

“Josh,” he said, breathless. “Are you sure you want this? You’re not just doing this for me?”

I pulled back, looking him in the eye. “Of course I want you. For fuck’s sake, I’ve wanted you forever.”

His hands squeezed around me again, gripping my ass.

He nodded, licking his lips, his eyes wild. “Then you’re mine.”