Fake Friends - Saxon James Page 0,55

don’t know whether to say, but he’s way ahead of me.

“You’re waiting for me to freak out.”

“Obviously.”

He brushes my hair back from my forehead. “That was …” His brown eyebrows bunch together and relax just as quickly. “I didn’t have time to think. It was more instinctual than anything, like I wasn’t fully in control, so my brain didn’t get a chance to second-guess anything.”

“And now?”

He drops his head onto my shoulder. “It’s hard. Like I’m fighting with myself. But every time I start to have doubts and worry, I remind myself that nothing’s ever felt like that. Ever. I’ve …” Rowan hesitates.

“Keep going.”

His exhale comes out in a rush. “I’ve had sex with women before. I didn’t enjoy it. And afterward, I hated myself for it. So much that a couple of times I thought it might just be better to end it.”

“Jesus …”

“I’m okay,” he rushes to add, and at least his smile seems genuine. “I just hated myself so much. I hated that I couldn’t be like other men. When I first booked in with my psychologist, it was because I was hoping she could help me find a way to suppress it. To find women more attractive.”

It doesn’t work like that. And if anyone suggested it, I’d laugh in their faces. But Rowan was clearly hurting, and I can’t imagine how desperate he would have to have been in order to try and force himself to be with people he wasn’t into.

“She helped me through most of my issues, except the regret I felt about you. And now being here with you and letting myself finally start to experience what I’ve held back for so long feels inherently wrong. Like the ground has suddenly disappeared and I’m scrambling for something to hold on to.”

My gut twists.

“But I don’t want to be that way. And every time we’re together, every time I push myself, it gets that little bit easier. So if I’m quiet or withdrawn after sex, I swear it’s nothing to do with you.”

“Thank you.” I run my fingers down Rowan’s face, and he ducks his head to kiss me.

It’s lazy and sweet and all I need right now. He pulls away and settles on my chest, tattooed arms snaking around me.

“I don’t know what I’m going to do about my family.”

“Do you think …” I hold my breath. “Do you think you’ll ever tell them?”

“Honestly … I can’t see me having the balls to do it. Which is a cop-out, I know. And I’m sure it’s probably the last thing you want to hear right now.”

I card my fingers through his hair and hold him tighter. “Don’t worry about what I want. If you can’t tell them, that’s your choice, and only your choice.”

“But I want to.” Frustration seeps into his voice. “It’s bullshit I can’t say two little words.”

I want to push him. Or tell him to stop being a wimp. “I know what it’s like to lose my family,” I tell him. “And if you have a chance to hold on to yours, I’d never hold that against you.”

“I have been thinking though …”

“About?”

“Well, what if I didn’t have to tell them?”

“And be closeted for the rest of your life?”

“Sort of.” His pause stretches out between us, but I can tell there’s more. “I need a little more distance from my family. I was talking to Leon about how Sunbury needs a gym and thought that would be an awesome thing for me to pursue. I could run classes and train people who wanted it … and Sunbury isn’t a huge town, so I know it’s not something that would rake in the profits, but as long as I could take a wage, I’d be fine. And I’d be doing something I love instead of working at Harvey’s.”

His voice has increased, strengthened, and it makes me happy to hear him excited about this. “What does that have to do with your family?”

“With my own income, I could get my own place, and then I wouldn’t be reliant on them at all. It means I’d be able to take my own risks. Hang out with who I want to hang out with.” He shifts and meets my eyes. “Maybe find myself a male roommate one day.”

It kills me to have to break his enthusiasm. “That plan sounds perfect, except for one part.”

“Which is?”

“Asking someone you love to pretend to be your roommate isn’t fair. It’d be like forcing them back into the closet.”

He’s

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