Chapter 18

Chapter Eighteen

TORIN

I think my brain has short circuited. Is Hugo… kissing me?

I’ve died, haven’t I? This isn’t real. Since only in my dreams has Hugo ever kissed me, I’m confident this is fake. He doesn’t even like guys!

Because I think I’m seriously delusional here, I lean back, pulling my mouth from Hugo’s and stare at him. Maybe he’s still confused. Maybe he didn’t hear what I said. Maybe…

“Can I kiss you?” he asks.

My breath catches. It’s really him. Hugo is really here. I nod, unsure what else to do as my entire body heats up. Holy hell, he’s really here! He really asked to kiss me.

As soon as his mouth is on mine again, my eyes close. If this is my imagination, I don’t want to be brought back to reality. This time when Hugo’s mouth touches mine, it’s less of a question and more of a statement. His hand moves to the back of my neck, cupping the base of my head. He angles my face just how he wants me and kisses me for real.

His tongue moves into my mouth. With it, he steals my will to live. I try desperately not to groan or whimper. I desperately try not to grip his shirt like the anxious mess I am right now, while I silently beg all the gods who have ever been prayed to that this is real.

In the distance, I hear glass clink. There’s the sound of a plate being set down and the aroma of melted cheese and marinara sauce drifts to me. Filling my lungs. Fighting to replace everything that is Hugo.

I don’t let it. I’ve wanted Hugo since I first saw him. His radiant smile. His kindness. How sweet and thoughtful he is.

And, you know, the shape of what’s promised in his pants. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t definitely interested in that, too.

A clatter makes us both jolt and Hugo shifts back a few inches, his mouth leaving mine. He blinks and for a minute, I think he’s confused. The thought that maybe he’ll realize what the hell he’s doing and freak out rushes through my head, making me dizzy. Tears threaten to fall.

Hugo looks around, slowly gaining his bearings. There are two wine glasses on the table now, both with wine in them. There’s also a plate of arancini that was just delivered.

He turns back to me and I nearly do cry when he smiles. “You’re the girl I’ve been texting,” he teases.

I nod.

“You’re not a girl at all. You never corrected me when I said something about her. Uh… you.”

I shake my head. “I was afraid that if I told you who I was, you’d stop talking to me.”

Hugo sighs.

Sucking in a deep breath, I decide that if I’m going to get my truth out, it’s going to have to be right this very second. Closing my eyes, I blurt, “I’ve had a crush on you for a while.”

I don’t dare look at him. I can’t bring myself to, though I know I need to. Oh god. Oh my god!

“Why didn’t you say something?” he asks.

“Because you like girls,” I answer, feeling my cheeks heat at how lame that sounds.

Hugo’s fingers on my face makes me jump and my eyes open. There’s no amusement on his face. I’m surprised I don’t see confusion either. “Yeah, I like girls. But maybe I also like a boy.”

Just like that? That’s all it takes for him to…?

“You do?”

His smile makes my stomach flutter. “Yeah. I’ve been wanting to kiss you for a while. Weeks, at least. I’m very aware you’re a guy, Torin.” He glances down my body and my face burns when his eyes meet mine again. “I’ve felt you pressed against me.”

“Ohmigod,” I mutter, covering my face with my hands.

“I’ve also gotten off with you in the shower.”

“Hugo,” I hiss, peeking between my fingers at whoever might be around to overhear us.

“The internet has mixed information. I guess it’s pretty normal for teenagers to compare dick size and masturbate together as they go through puberty and explore their sexuality or whatever. But friends cuddling isn’t normal. I can’t find a clear answer about whether it’s normal to get hard when you hug your friends. That information isn’t easy to find. I’m going to have to resort to polling my friends.”

I cringe. “Hugo!”

He grins. His hand is still resting gently against my very hot skin right now so his thumb brushes my cheekbone. The way he’s looking at me has my heart racing. I swear, it’s only the two of us at this moment. The restaurant and everyone in it has faded away.

“I’m just saying—I’m aware you’re a dude. I’m not all that bothered by it.”

It can’t be that easy. Nothing is ever that easy. Dreams just don’t come true like this. I was the cliché gay guy in love with a straight man, but those fantasies rarely come true. I’m still asleep. That’s what’s going on right now. It has to be.

“What’re you thinking?” Hugo asks. “You look sad and scared all at the same time.”

I sigh, shaking my head. “I’m having a hard time convincing myself this is real. That’s all.”

I’m surprised when his mouth captures mine again. A shiver races down my spine, then his hand finds mine and he places it on his chest. I can feel his heart beating through his shirt. The warmth of his skin seeps through the fabric.

“All real,” he murmurs against my mouth. “Promise.”

My breath is stuttering as I inhale. “Okay,” I whisper. “You’re really not mad at me?”

Hugo shakes his head. “I’m relieved. I’ve been really conflicted about this for the last week and even more so as soon after I suggested we have a date. A part of me felt like I was cheating on you when I asked for a date with this… girl.” He flashes me a blinding smile. “It felt like I was choosing the wrong person just because she was a girl. I’m so fucking happy she turned out to be you, Torin.”

I’m not an overly sappy individual, but the way my eyes get watery is becoming all too familiar. “I wanted to tell you so many times,” I admit. “But I’ve never had a friend and I love our friendship, so I was even more scared about how you’d feel once you saw I was me and not a girl at all. I swear, I didn’t mean to lie to you.”

“I know,” Hugo says. “I’m not always very smart, so there’s a chance I wouldn’t have caught a lie anyway.”

Frowning, I shake my head. “You’re plenty smart. Don’t say that.”

Hugo shrugs. He faces forward in the booth, but scoots closer so he’s pressed against my side. “I guess I don’t necessarily think I’m dumb. Just… I can’t always get words out without them making me sound like an idiot. It makes everyone else think I’m stupid, which makes me feel dumb. I try to remember Winny’s words—think before you speak. And Noah always says that I need to slow down. It’s not just thinking before I speak, but slowing down enough to get my thoughts in order before I just blurt things.”

“I love how excited you get,” I tell him. I find some bravery in me and grip his hand. My heart nearly stops when he turns his hand over and clasps it with mine. “So many people are taught to moderate their emotions, but you’re so pure. I love the way I can see how happy you are just by looking at you.”

Hugo sighs. “Thanks, Torin.”

For a minute, we sit in silence, just holding hands. My heart races. I can’t believe this is real. That this is really happening. Hugo isn’t angry or upset at all. He’s happy.

It’s very surreal for me, and I’m still not entirely convinced this is really happening. Things like this don’t happen in real life.

“We should eat these before they’re cold,” Hugo says. “They’re good cold, but they’re better hot.”

I nod.

Hugo reaches for one and dips it in the sauce. I’m surprised when he offers it to me at the level of my mouth. Flushing, I lean forward to take a bite. The way my skin burns, I’m almost too self-conscious to look at Hugo, but I can’t stop myself from meeting his eyes.

The way he’s looking at me has me nearly floating off my seat. It only further solidifies that I’m dreaming. I don’t taste the little rice ball at all. I’m aware that it melts in my mouth and I remember how much I loved it when Hugo first took me to Antonio’s, but right now, I can’t taste anything as I stare into this man’s eyes.

“Good?” he asks.

I nod because I’m positive they are good.

Hugo dips the second half of the ball into the sauce and finishes it himself. He gave me his first bite. Maybe that shouldn’t mean anything, but it makes my stomach dance wildly. I’m not sure if I can eat tonight. I’m far too anxious and nervous and excited and terrified. Right now, I’m more worried that I might throw up than I am of waking up to find out this isn’t real.

The way my heart would shatter has me almost gasping.

Hugo offers me the first bite of the next arancini. I take it. We continue through the plate this way until they’re gone. Then he offers me a glass of wine.

I’m not huge into wine, but I thought it seemed like the thing to do for a first date. And this is my least hated kind. I’m truly not sophisticated enough for wine.

I watch as Hugo looks into the glass as if he’s studying the clear liquid. “How do you drink wine?”

Grinning, I look into my own glass as I swirl the liquid within. Hugo watches me and then matches what I’m doing.

“Just sips. You’re supposed to savor it before swallowing.”

Hugo takes a sip and I swear, he swishes it in his mouth and then swallows. His nose wrinkles and I laugh.

“That’s not what I meant. Just… sip. Slowly. Like you’re sick and you can only handle small amounts of liquid at a time and you’re so weak that it’s difficult to swallow it at normal speed.”

He gives me a bemused smile and tries again. There’s no swishing this time, but he’s equally unimpressed. I’m too busy smiling to take my own sip.

“I don’t think I have a taste for wine,” he admits .

I laugh. “That’s okay. I don’t really either, but it’s my first date so I thought maybe a little fancy.”

Hugo grins. “I kinda really love that we’re sharing this first together.”

No, my stomach does not dance with butterflies. “Me too.”

Once Hugo sets his glass down, our waitress appears at the side of the table. Hugo looks up and grins. “Hi, Margerie.”

“Good evening, Hugo. How are you, honey?”

He looks at me with a wide smile. “I’m really, really good.” As predicted, my cheeks heat. Hugo looks back at Margerie. “How are you? How’s Hugh?”

Margerie nods. “All very well, honey. What’ll it be tonight?”

Hugo sighs. Our hands are still linked together and his fingers flex. He looks at me and asks, “How about we share some raviolis tonight? My stomach is all sloshy, so I’m not sure I can eat a whole meal.”

I sag a little because thank fuck. “Yes. Perfect.”

“One cheese ravioli plate coming up,” Margerie says. “I’ll bring you some water too.” She winks at me and I almost laugh, then she walks away.

“I think she’s onto the fact that we aren’t loving the wine,” I say.

Hugo laughs. “Probably. Margerie is good like that.”

“Do you know all the wait staff?”

He nods. “Yep. I think I’ve talked to everyone who works here. I’ve been coming to Antonio’s since I was traded to L.A. three years ago. Some weeks, I’m pretty sure I lived here.”

“Do you cook?”

Hugo shrugs. “Meh. I can cook basic shit, but I’m not the biggest fan of cooking. There are a hundred other things I’d rather be doing. Even if it’s just lounging around, scrolling on my phone.”

I nod.

“You?”

“I don’t mind cooking. I wouldn’t say I’m an expert at it, but I don’t hate what I make.”

“What’s your favorite thing to make?”

“Anything with sauce or gravy. I love my starches dripping with sauce. Like a soup.”

He grins. “Nice. I try not to eat a lot of starch. ”

I raise an eyebrow and look around. “Italian is basically pasta, you know.”

Hugo laughs. “I know. I’ve had to cut down how often I come here, sadly. Starch makes me sluggish and I need to be at the top of my game.”

Once again, we fall into silence. I love that it’s not weird or awkward, and how I don’t feel pressured to fill it. I’m surprised I feel comfortable enough with Hugo to lean against him.

“In case I didn’t say it, I’m really glad that you’re you,” Hugo says, resting the side of his head against mine. “I think I was making myself sick over the idea I was meeting someone else when I was partially convinced it would mean I was being unfaithful to you.”

I try really hard not to let hope bloom in my chest. “Does this mean you might want to have a second date? Not that I’m rushing the first or anything.”

I can feel his smile, even though he doesn’t pick up his head. “A second, yes. And a third. A fourth. A fifth.”

Now my heart is racing for sure. I can’t catch my breath.

“Maybe… I only want to date you. Is that something that maybe you’d consider?”

There’s a chance I may just pass out. I’m definitely not ruling it out. Afraid I might choke on my tongue if I try to speak, I nod. Fuck, yes I want that!

“So… we’ll date exclusively?”

Sucking in a breath, I nod again. “I haven’t dated anyone before,” I remind him.

Hugo laughs. “Me neither. We can fumble through it together.” There’s a brief moment of pause before he says, “Does this mean we should stop having sleepovers?”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. Aren’t you supposed to wait for a certain number of dates before spending the night?”

“I don’t think there are any rules. I think we can do whatever we’re comfortable with.”

Hugo nods. Half a minute later, he picks up his head and looks at me. “I want you to spend the night. I love having you in my bed, Torin. ”

My god, this man! I nod because once again, I’m afraid of making a fool of myself. “Me, too.” Fuck, me too!!