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My gaze had landed on him like lightning drawn to the lone tree in a field, complete with a concurrent crackle of electricity that arced through me.
Mark Farrow, the boy I’d crushed on before I even knew what a crush was. The first guy I’d ever jacked off to. The first guy I’d ever wanted to kiss. The first guy who’d ever touched me exactly the fucking way I’d wanted to be touched. The only guy I could never have.
“So if it’s so easy to get laid, why are you complaining about not getting laid?” I asked. “Because I have standards.” “But you also eat chocolate Pop-Tarts.” “Quit throwing my completely inane logic back in my face.”
“I’ve noticed you enjoy shoving me up against inanimate objects,” I said. “I’ve noticed you enjoy letting me,”
“The fuck are you doing to me, Farrow?” He spoke in a raspy, wrecked way that lit me up, like I’d stumbled upon a key that unlocked a part of himself he’d forgotten.
Ladies and gentlemen of the court, I blew my load. Just like that. Just because Chet Pynchon told me I was sexy and tight in a growly, pure sex voice.
My name in his mouth. My weakness. I wanted him to keep saying it in that throaty, wrecked murmur.
“I would’ve let you in anytime.” I met the dark pools of his eyes, the confession soft. “I always will. I don’t know that I’d ever be able not to.”
Chet: I want to take you out. Mark: Mafia style? Or like to dinner and a movie. Chet: Idiot.
Careless, yes, I’d been that in the past. But I moved a little slower today A. Because I wasn’t as stupid anymore. B. I couldn’t afford a speeding ticket. And C. Mark.
We’d been swoops and dives and potholes for most of the time I’d known him. But for this moment right now, it felt like open road between us, and it was my heart that was moving at breakneck speed.
Because the truth was, nothing else felt as good as Mark Farrow. I wasn’t sure anything else ever could.
He was going to be an amazing lawyer once he got there. And I’d do everything in my power to make sure he did.
“I love you,” he whispered. “I tried really fucking hard not to, but—” “I know.” “You do?” I pulled back just far enough to find his eyes. I didn’t want there to be any mistake. “I love you, too. Knew it that night at Kacey’s party. Knew it that night in your bedroom. Knew it that night in your car with Cam—God, did I know it then. I couldn’t stop looking at you. I—” “Shut up,” he murmured, and hooked a hand around the back of my neck, dragging my mouth back to his.
I will dedicate the same level of effort I’ve poured into trying to make you proud of me over the years toward taking down the thing you love most so you’ll remember how it feels. Because Chet Pynchon is the one thing I love most, and that’s not changing.”
“Take your time. We’ve got the rest of our lives.”
