Chapter 28

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Diego

ALL OR NOTHING. I should have known. Avery has never been anything but unapologetically themself, and that refreshing authenticity is one of the things that drew me so strongly to them.

Now I have to match their bravery.

My heart is slamming against my chest like my fist pounded on their door. That frantic, irrational organ led me here, so I guess I need to trust it. I'd hoped that my actions would speak for themselves, but that was cowardly of me. Avery isn't stupid; they know what this means. But I can't blame them for wanting me to say it after all I've put them through. From the very beginning, I've done nothing but run. Even when I wasn't running, I hid from the truth, dodging anything that seemed too big, too scary .

If that ain't the story of my time in Montridge, I don't know what is.

The second I arrived, I thought about turning back home. Then Avery happened and I was so terrified I nearly packed my things and bailed. Seeing my family added a stab of homesickness to the stack of reasons to run.

But Avery made all of those things better. They showed me around this crazy town, they charmed the hell out of my parents, they gave me something worth staying for.

That something is them.

"Avery," I say.

The feel of their name on my tongue strengthens my resolve. That familiar, gentle sound warms me like freshly brewed tea. I clasp their hands in mine. Or maybe they're the one holding me. It's difficult to tell when it feels like the whole world is tilting away from me.

"If I stay," I say, "if we both stay, if we stay here together, it's because … it's because I do love you."

There is so much more I need to add on to that, but it was hard enough getting those words out. I lack the strength for more, especially because Avery isn't responding. They're simply sitting there watching me, light eyes picking me apart like I'm a tapestry unspooling under their keen gaze.

"Say something," I plead.

I didn't know I was going to say those words tonight. I didn't come here planning to say them. But now that I've spoken that fragile feeling aloud, all I can do is wait.

Avery takes an unsteady breath. "I mean, I need to see what the applications require. And I'm only a junior. I have to figure out the timing, money, scholarships, if I'd really stay here or go somewhere else or…"

"Does that mean you'll consider it?"

They meet my eyes. "Yes. Yes, I will. If you'll give me a chance."

"You can't do this for me, Avery."

"I'm not doing it for you," they say. "But I never thought about any of this until I met you. I never imagined myself continuing on and being some kind of researcher or academic. When I think about it, it's scary, honestly. It feels too big for someone like me. But if you were with me, I think I could handle it."

"I will be," I say. "If you want me to be."

Finally, a smile breaks through the tension on their face. "I do. Of course I do."

I can't take any more. All the tension, all the build up, all the uncertainty — it breaks like a storm suddenly erupting out of a clear sky. I release Avery's hands so I can cup their face and pull them to me, smashing their lips into mine. They taste like surety, like confidence, like home. As they grab the front of my shirt and kiss me back, all those fears I've held onto all semester melt away, and I know for the first time that I'm exactly where I should be, doing exactly what I should be doing .

As we go on kissing, Avery crowds into my space. I sit back, and they sling a leg over my thighs to sit in my lap. My hands rest on their hips, theirs on the stubble shadowing my jaw. Their thumbs rub against it, a coarse prickle.

"I thought you were trying to break up with me the other day," they say, and the hurt in their voice pierces straight through me.

"Why the hell would I do that?"

"Because this is complicated and messy and new and scary?" they say.

I chuckle. "It is. It is complicated and messy and new and scary. You freaking terrify me, Avery. I've never known anyone like you. I've never lived in a place like this. I've never done half the things we've done together. But you make me want to try everything I've never done. You make me want to explore the whole world."

Avery's smile is soft and smitten. I hope some echo of it shows on my face.

"I can't believe that when I met you you thought Montridge was a city," Avery says. "And now you want to travel the world. Quite a change for my small-town boy."

"I might be getting ahead of myself, but I think if I was with you, I could do all of the things that used to scare me."

"I want to show you those things," Avery says. "I want to go everywhere and do everything with you. "

They bend down to kiss me, slow and sensual, licking into my mouth. Heat builds between us, and my hands wander to the small of their back, riding the slow wave of their body as they shift atop me. There's no chance of misunderstanding when we're like this, our bodies screaming the words we might stutter otherwise.

Avery groans and drags themself away from my mouth. When they sit back on my thighs and chew on their bottom lip, I just about lose my composure and throw them onto the couch cushions then and there.

"I wasn't expecting this," they say. "Everything's upstairs. Come on. I don't want to do this on the couch, as fun as that was last time. No one will ever hang out with me again if they find out that this is how I use my living room."

They slip off my thighs, and I mourn the loss of their weight and warmth. Avery offers me a hand, and I take it, letting them drag me to my feet. The forgotten ice cream is a puddle in its container on the table, but Avery doesn't seem to care as they lead me out of the living room and toward the stairs.

Our footsteps thump in time with my heart. As we walk, our conversation echoes in my head. I don't regret a word of it. I should have said most of it sooner. But one part in particular keeps coming back to me, the part about trying everything with them, going everywhere with them, doing things I'm afraid of with them .

Maybe it's time I give them my trust, my full trust. Maybe it's time I take a leap of faith with them.

A flurry of doubt rises in my mind like a cloud of buzzing insects. What am I thinking? I just confessed the words I'm most afraid of, and now I'm trying to leap into even more uncharted territory? It has to be the adrenaline of the moment, but despite my doubts, I can't dislodge the thought from my mind once it arises. It's like a pebble in my shoe, persistently digging at me until I give it attention.

Avery drags me into their room. They don't bother closing the door before they turn to me and start sliding my jacket off to pool on the floor.

"We are not doing this with a bunch of clothes on again," they say, laughter edging their voice.

I'm too tense to say anything. I peel their shirt off, then let them do the same to me. Their hair is loose around them, silky and dark against their pale skin. I run a hand through it as I draw them back to my mouth for a deep kiss full of probing tongues. Avery runs their hands over my bare chest, squeezing as they go, enjoying every detail of my body, and I can vividly imagine the way they'd lavish every inch of me with attention if I gave them the go-ahead to do so.

So really, what the hell am I waiting for?

I start walking them toward the bed, and they go gleefully. We separate to climb onto the mattress. Avery throws aside their sweatpants about as quickly as they can. I'm a bit slower in getting my jeans and boxers out of the way, partially from nerves. The sight of their long, lean body entirely naked for me helps. It helps a lot. I couldn't keep myself from following them into bed even if I wanted to, and I certainly don't want to.

Avery grins, shuffling backward as I pursue them onto the mattress. I end up over them, and they lace their fingers into my hair to pull me to their mouth. Our bodies are boiling hot when our skin meets, our tongues sloppy as we plunder each other's mouths. We grind against each other, incapable of keeping still when we're naked and close and touching. It's like this energy that simply has to come out of us, this desire that has to take physical form lest it explode and destroy us instead.

Maybe it's that desire that gives me the strength to pull away and speak.

Avery looks confused at first. Lying under me, their hand tangled in my hair, a question waits in their eyes. I draw a deep breath and make myself say the words that popped into my head as we ascended the stairs.

"I want you to be the one to do it tonight," I say.

They blink rapidly, confusion and understanding warring for dominance. "The one to do … that?"

"Yes," I say.

"Is that something you've tried before?"

"Only once."

"And? "

I swallow to steady myself. "It wasn't the right time. It wasn't the right person. But this is, and you are. And if you're willing, I'd like to try it again. I'd like to know … what it's like with someone like you, someone I care about this much."

"Diego," they say, soft with wonder.

"You've broken down every line and barrier and binary that I thought I knew. Why not break this one down too?"

I try to chuckle, but I'm so nervous the sound trips out of me, clumsy and a little too high.

Avery strokes their hand through my hair. "Diego, I'd love to try this with you."

A held breath blows out of me. I'm smiling. I'm relieved, I realize. I didn't know I was so tense while waiting for their response. I didn't know I wanted this so badly that I was hanging on the edge.

Avery pushes themself up, swapping our positions. I end up on my back gazing up at them, and I can't imagine a more wonderful sight.

"I'm going to make you feel so good, baby," they say.

And then they take me into the unknown.