neck of his beer, appearing to be searching for some kind of an answer inside the golden liquid. He twisted his head to stare at me. “You seemed supportive earlier. You…” Instead of completing his sentence, he began picking at the label on his bottle.
“I what?”
“You placed a hand on my shoulder as I was about to tell my mother what we had wasn’t love, even though for me it may be.” He turned away and focused on the game.
What was I supposed to say to that? That he misunderstood a supportive gesture as conceding to the notion we could be in love? That he and I couldn’t possibly be in love with so much emotional baggage weighing us down?
“Look,” he went on, his tone becoming defensive, “I get my track record going into this discredits how I’m acting now. It’s not lost on me the first time I voiced I was gay was a few hours ago to my parents. With my actions, yes, I’m asking you to make sense of the nonsensical. And I know you’ve compared me to Corey, dumping me in the same bucket because we were both straight. But Corey’s crime was being an asshole… Mine was denial. To you, it may be the same. I get that. You were hurt. But I’m telling you it’s not the same. Unlike Corey, I came to terms with my real truth and refuse to hide behind it anymore.” With that, he turned back to the TV, but his annoyance rang through in the clench of his jaw.
“Cooper.” I watched him drag a thumb over his bottom lip while refusing to make eye contact. “Look at me.” Waiting until he did, I placed a hand on his thigh and held his gaze. “I meant it when I told your mother I cared about you. And you were right, we did seem to flip roles somewhere along the line. But my hesitance has nothing to do with you. I’ve been in love once. I’ve tried many times since, and I fucked it up each time. I’m afraid now that you’ve made this profound decision to be with me, I’ll fuck it up with you.”
“Fuck it up how?”
I released a sarcastic laugh. “Actually, I’m giving you a sampling as we speak. I doubt. I question. I self-sabotage. I…”
“You run.”
“I run.”
He nodded before placing his hand over mine on his thigh. “Then I’ll chase you.”
“I’m pretty fast.”
“Shut up, you prick.” Removing his hand, he resumed picking at the bottle again. “I can deal with your freak-outs, with the moods, the stick up your ass—”
“I don’t have a stick up my ass,” I argued.
“Yeah, you do. But I can deal with all that…” He leaned in closer, pushing his shoulder against mine. “As long as I know I’m not in this alone.”
There were at least a dozen things I could’ve repeated right then and there. Sick of rehashing all that, sick of the push and pull, sick of the doubt constantly nagging me, I went with what I was good at… deflecting.
Closing the distance, I brought my lips a breath apart from his. “Want to get out of here?”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Cooper
Since the day I’d come out to my parents, Ricky had kept his distance. He blamed it on not wanting to infringe on family time. Rebecca seemed to allow him that out, until today. My parents were leaving tomorrow, and Marco and Rebecca wanted us there for a BBQ. No excuses.
So there we were, bleary from exhaustion and feeling the effects of another sleepless night. Ready or not, it was time to face the consequences that came from having a hopeless romantic mother and sister. They seriously have become unhinged with my news and were driving me nuts to the point that each evening, once the Puglia household dialed down for the night, I headed to Ricky’s place.
All week long, the hours were split between talking and fooling around. The sex had been more of the same, mainly because Ricky claimed he didn’t want to rush us into the next level. For him, to be taken was a very personal thing, but one he wanted with me. That would come first, and then when he felt I was ready, he would take me.
Having no experience in that department whatsoever, I conceded to his schedule. It wasn’t as though he lacked in getting me off spectacularly, every time. The desire I’d always felt toward him only heightened with each encounter, and now it had