Chapter 26

Chapter Twenty-Six

Liam

I held my breath so long I thought I might pass out, waiting for Jack to answer. He stared at me, his brow furrowed, like he was trying to solve a Sudoku puzzle with only half the numbers filled in.

“Sure, um…” he finally mumbled, his voice a low rumble.

Thank God. Relief flooded through me, and I felt my lips curl into a grin before I could stop them. Not wanting to give him a chance to change his mind, I tugged at his hand, practically dragging him back toward the bed. It only took us a few seconds to remove our clothes. Jack hesitated for a second more, then moved to climb in, his knee sinking into the mattress. That’s when it hit me. The camera.

“Wait! The phone!” I blurted, sitting up so fast I almost head-butted him. “Make sure it’s on and aimed right.”

Jack froze, his hand mid-air, and nodded. With trembling fingers, he wrested the phone from the clamp, fumbling with the screen as if it were suddenly the most complicated piece of technology in existence.

“Got it,” he muttered, placing it back in the clamp and angling it just right.

The moment he got back in bed, the vibe shifted. We just… sat there, staring at each other. It wasn’t like the first time, where we were both half-crazed and couldn’t keep our hands to ourselves. This was different. The kind of awkward you feel when you’re trying to act naturally, but you’re too aware of the fact that you’re supposed to act.

I broke the tension by reaching for his hand and bringing it to my lips. I kissed his palm softly, hoping it would kick start something. Jack’s breath hitched, and then, out of nowhere, he asked, “When did you realize you were gay?”

I blinked at him, caught completely off guard. His expression was curious, not judgmental, and for a moment, I wondered if he was stalling—or genuinely interested.

Still, I had to laugh. “You’re asking this now? On camera?”

He shrugged, the faintest grin tugging at his lips. “Drake might want to know about Lucien’s tragic backstory.”

I snorted. “Tragic? Okay, sure. Let me spin you a tale.”

Jack stretched his arm out across the pillows, and I took that as an invitation. Scooting closer, I laid my head on his chest. His arm tightened around me almost instinctively, and I let myself relax, listening to the steady thump of his heartbeat.

“Alright,” I began with a dramatic sigh. “Picture it. Boston. I’m sixteen and washing dishes in my parents’ pub after school. Smelling like a mix of fried fish and regret.”

Jack chuckled softly, and I grinned against his chest.

“There was this bartender, Jaime. Tall, blond, wavy hair, blue eyes. Not conventionally hot, but… you know when someone’s got that thing?” I waved my hand vaguely. “Jaime had that thing. And one night, my dad had to leave early, which meant—drumroll, please—I was in charge of closing the pub for the first time ever. Big deal.”

Jack hummed, like he was imagining it.

“So, the last customer leaves, and Jaime and I are cleaning up. We’re talking, like actual talking, which is rare for me at sixteen because, you know, I was awkward and thought every conversation was a trap.”

“Shocking,” Jack teased.

“Hey, I’ve grown! Anyway, Jaime casually mentions his boyfriend and my brain short-circuits. Like, full-on Windows reboot sound in my head. Because, sure, I’d heard of gay people, but it wasn’t something we discussed in my house. Ever. And here’s Jaime, just tossing it out there like, ‘Oh yeah, it’s sunny out, and by the way, I’m gay.’”

Jack’s chest rumbled with quiet laughter, and I couldn’t help but smile.

“That’s when I knew. Like, instantly. Light bulb moment. I’m gay. Boom. The very next day, I came out to my parents.”

Jack tilted his head to look down at me. “Just like that?”

“Just like that.” I lifted my head and grinned at him. “Walked right into the kitchen while my mom was making breakfast, and I was like, ‘Hey, so I’m gay.’”

He raised an eyebrow. “How’d they take it?”

“Oh, they were great! My mom handed me a plate of pancakes and said, ‘Okay, honey, but no boys in your room with the door closed.’” I laughed. “My dad, on the other hand, just said, ‘Don’t tell your grandmother until after the will’s finalized.’”

Jack snorted, and I felt his arm tighten around me again.

“So, yeah. Not exactly tragic,” I finished, looking up at him. “Sorry to disappoint, Drake.”

He smiled softly, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Not disappointing at all, Lucien.”

I didn’t know what to say to that, so I just laid my head back down on his chest. Jack turned onto his side, and before I could even brace myself, his lips brushed against mine. The kiss was soft at first, tentative, like he was testing the waters. I moaned quietly; the sound slipping out before I could stop it, and his arm tightened around me.

Okay, this was more like it. I closed my eyes, already imagining where this was going. Maybe we’d finally shed the awkward energy and get back to the good stuff.

But just as I reached for him, Jack pulled back. “Who was your first lover?”

I blinked at him, completely thrown off. “What?”

“You know,” he said, propping his head up on his hand like he was asking about the weather. “Your first time. Who was it with?”

“Drake,” I deadpanned, keeping my voice low and gravelly like Lucien would. “You sure know how to kill a mood.”

Jack—Drake—just smirked. “Come on, Lucien. Spill. It’s part of your mysterious, tortured backstory.”

I sighed, mostly because as long as his arm stayed snug around me, I’d probably answer whatever ridiculous question he threw my way. “Fine. But you asked for it.”

I shifted a little, trying to get comfortable against him, then dove in. “College. Freshman year. I was still figuring myself out, but I decided I was ready. So, there’s this guy—tall, blonde, brilliant smile. Totally out of my league, but nice enough to notice me in our Psych 101 class. He used to lend me his notes when I skipped class.”

Jack’s brows furrowed slightly, like he was trying to solve a puzzle.

“We had this one study session in the library, and he invited me back to his dorm afterward. I was, like, two minutes behind him on the walk over before I realized he’d just propositioned me. I mean, I was clueless.”

Jack chuckled softly, and I could feel his chest shake. “Sounds about right.”

“Anyway, we get to his room. He’s got posters of strange folk-singers on the walls, which should’ve been a red flag, but I was too busy trying not to hyperventilate.”

Jack’s face suddenly lit up with recognition, and he sat up a little straighter. “Wait a second. Tall, blonde, great smile… Psych 101… Are you talking about Trevor Jenkins?”

I froze.

“Oh my God, Trevor Jenkins was your first?” Jack barked out a laugh, his head tipping back. “I knew he gave off gay vibes!”

“Shut up,” I groaned, burying my face in my hands.

“No, no, keep going. This is gold,” Jack insisted, his grin wide enough to light up the room.

I let out a dramatic sigh and pushed my hair out of my face. “Alright. So, we’re in his dorm, and things are heating up. Kissing, shirts coming off, the whole shebang. And I’m thinking, this is it. My big gay debut.”

“And?” Jack prompted, his tone practically dripping with glee.

“And… it was a disaster.” I threw my hands up. “He got a leg cramp five minutes in. Then his roommate walked in—didn’t even knock! Just stood there, holding a pizza, staring at us like we were a live episode of Friends. And Trevor panicked, yanked the blanket over us, and accidentally elbowed me in the face.”

Jack was practically wheezing, tears in his eyes.

“It gets worse,” I continued, unable to stop now that I was on a roll. “His roommate—the pizza guy—starts laughing, which makes Trevor start laughing, and I’m just sitting there, clutching my nose, bleeding, thinking, This is what I waited 19 years for?”

Jack clutched his stomach, his laughter spilling out in loud, unfiltered waves.

“I never saw him again,” I finished with a huff. “Transferred out of Psych 101 the next day and I’ve avoided folk music ever since.”

Jack wiped his eyes, still chuckling. “I can’t believe Trevor Jenkins was your first. That guy tried to sell me essential oils at the Kappa Delta Xi holiday party last year.”

I groaned and buried my face in his chest. “Please tell me you’re joking.”

“Nope. Lemon balm and peppermint. Said they’d open my chakras, whatever that means.”

I let out a muffled laugh against his skin. “Of course he did.”

For a moment, we just lay there, his arm warm and solid around me, both of us catching our breath. It wasn’t exactly what I’d expected when I asked him to get back in bed, but it felt right.

“Remember The Upstairs Lounge?” I asked. “The gay bar off campus?”

Jack shook his head. “Can’t say that I do.”

“Really?” I sat up a little, propping myself on my elbow. “You never went there? Not even once?”

Jack shrugged, the corner of his mouth twitching. “Not really my scene. I think I had a paper due every time someone mentioned it.”

“Huh,” I said, frowning. “I could’ve sworn we went together once. You, me, maybe Bradley? No?”

Jack gave me a you’re-making-this-up look and shook his head again.

“Oh!” I said, a light bulb flickering on in my brain. “That’s right—it was Bradley who took me.”

At the mention of Bradley’s name, Jack’s brow furrowed just slightly. It wasn’t much, but I’d known him long enough to recognize the shift. I should’ve stopped there, changed the subject. But no, I had to keep going.

“So…” I said, grinning a little nervously. “This one time, Bradley and I got really drunk at The Upstairs Lounge. I mean, like, fall over-your-own-shoes drunk.”

Jack narrowed his eyes at me, not saying a word, and I felt my cheeks burn.

“What?” I asked, laughing a little too hard. “You’re looking at me like I just admitted to robbing a bank.”

Jack crossed his arms over his chest, still silent, and that’s when I knew I was in trouble. But I couldn’t stop myself—I was already in the deep end, might as well keep swimming.

“So, anyway,” I said, trying to keep my tone light. “We ended up back at Bradley’s room that night.”

Jack’s eyes widened slightly, and he sat up straighter. “Wait a second. What?”

“We made out,” I blurted, as if ripping off a Band-Aid. “But nothing happened! I swear. We were too drunk to even—”

“Wait.” Jack held up a hand, his voice sharp now. “You made out with Bradley? As in our Bradley?”

“Uh…yeah?” I replied, my voice small.

Jack blinked at me, his jaw tightening. For a second, I thought he was going to explode. Instead, he let out a sharp, humorless laugh.

“Let me get this straight,” he said, his tone laced with disbelief. “You made out with Bradley ‘Wellington’ Mitchell, and you’re just now telling me this?”

I couldn’t help it—I laughed again. “Jack, come on, it was years ago! And, like I said, nothing happened.”

“You what?” he repeated, his voice rising an octave.

“Jack, relax!” I said, patting his arm. “I snuck out of his room before sunrise, and we never talked about it again. No harm, no foul.”

Jack just stared at me, his expression unreadable. Then, to my surprise, he let out a breath and pulled me closer, his arm tightening around me.

“You’re unbelievable,” he muttered, but his voice was softer now, almost affectionate.

I looked up at him, half-smiling. “So…you’re not mad?”

“Oh, I’m mad,” he said, leaning in to kiss me. “But not for the reasons you think.”

Before I could ask what he meant, his lips were on mine, and all thoughts of Bradley vanished. As our kiss deepened, I wrapped my arms around him, pulling him closer.

When we finally broke apart, Jack rested his forehead against mine. “You drive me crazy, you know that?” he murmured, his eyes searching mine.

“I do?”

One of Jack’s hands slid down my stomach, and when it was an inch away from my cock, he stopped.

“Don’t,” I murmured.

“Don’t what?” Jack’s fingers slid down some more, and a moment later, he wrapped his palm around my cock and squeezed.

“Stop,” I gasped. “Please, don’t stop.”

Jack brushed his lips across my cheek, then he winked at me. “Where’s all those toys you bought, Lucien?”

I blinked, wondering what the hell he was talking about. Then it hit me. The sex toys.

“In the closet,” I murmured. “Is there something you want to play with?”