Chapter 11

11

Rory takes me to a restaurant with a rooftop balcony that overlooks a rugged coast. Mosaics pattern the floor and wink in the moonlight. The stars and moon glow overhead. He found the place online, made the reservation, scheduled the Uber, and pulled out my chair for me when we sat down. He's taking me on a date .

Holy Jesus, I love it.

I've been out with guys before, but it's always felt like the four Bs—two bros going for burgers and beers with the hope of blow jobs at the end. Never a date like this one.

I'm so giddy I can hardly contain myself. I take a sip of virgin Mai Tai and lean back in my chair, my eyes all over the man sitting across from me.

He's wearing a blue, button-up shirt, short sleeves that show off wrists and forearms and the bottom half of his biceps. His gray eyes are dark as they look across the table at me, a single candle between us flicking warm light on his face. From the second we sat down, I've been itching to touch him, to feel him, to press my lips against the soft skin of his neck, taste underneath his ear. Sitting across from him at this table is like some kind of foreplay that I've never experienced before.

My phone vibrates as the server clears our plates, so I slip it out just to make sure it's not any kind of emergency. When I told Carter earlier that Rory and I were going out to dinner, he grinned and slapped me on the back with a big, "Fuck, yeah! Have fun!"

I wonder if he guesses something. Rory and I have been spending a lot of time together on this trip. Although, he and Theo have too.

But the text is just one of my dads checking in, probably because I still haven't responded to my brother's message about the lease.

Rory folds his napkin into a neat square and places it on the table. "Is that your family?"

I smile. He always seems to know when I'm talking with my family. Maybe he reads it on my face?

"My dad," I say and pocket my phone, my chest expanding as Rory reaches for his water glass, his thumb swiping away a bead of condensation.

"Julian," I specify which dad. I fidget with the edge of my napkin. I've sat here with a raging hard-on throughout dinner, covering it with this napkin and trying to adjust myself subtly. Sitting here across from someone and not touching has never turned me on so much. "Have you talked to your family since we got here?"

Rory scrunches his nose. "No."

I study him. "Not even to tell them you got in safe?"

He shakes his head, then his gaze swings out to the coastline. Moonlight sparkles across the soft waves, the candle just bright enough to see the tightening of his jaw.

"What are they like?" I ask.

I've never met them. Rory said they don't live that far from IFU, closer than my family, but they never come for family weekends or move-in day or anything else. My dads always come, and my aunt sometimes does too. Damon has crashed with us a few times, going to parties and doing the college thing while he's there.

I have asked Rory about his family before, but he never really answers.

His eyes whip back to me. "Um, they're fine. Just people."

"You rarely go home."

He shrugs a stiff shoulder. "Not much to do there."

"Where exactly is home?" I'm pushing him, and I can see it in the faint widening of his eyes, the tap of his fingers against the table, the purse of his lips. I just ache to know. I didn't know about his ex boyfriend, so what else? "I know you grew up somewhere outside of Cheyenne."

"West of there." He pauses, like he's debating what he wants to tell me. "There's a lot of wind power out there. Twenty-one turbines with a capacity of 52.5 megawatts."

"Is that a lot of power? I have no idea."

"That can supply about 60,000 homes." He shrugs a shoulder, still looking out at the water. Is he giving me a random fact so I don't know he didn't answer the question about his family? There was a time when I would have just gone along with that. But now…

"And what about your family?" Shit, am I being a dick by pushing him? I don't want to make him uncomfortable or?—

"They're not like your family." He inhales slowly, then swivels back to look at me.

"I've got a unique bunch," I say.

He smiles faintly, but it's such a sad smile that my throat tightens.

He picks at the corner of his napkin. "I'd love to have a bunch like that."

You could, Rory .

The thought strikes me so fucking hard. My family would welcome Rory without a single pause or question. My dads would be so happy. They already like him—they ask me about him all the time. They ask me about Theo and Carter too, but not as often as they do about Rory.

"I've been thinking about it a lot since we've been here," he says suddenly. "I knew you talked to your family every day before, because they're always on your phone back home, but seeing it here, the way you send pictures. I didn't think there were families like that."

"Do you have a family chat?" I ask.

He's never mentioned it, but I kinda assumed all families had one. Although, that sounds naive of me, now that I think about it.

He snorts a laugh. "Even if we did, I don't think I'd be invited."

My stomach knots. I don't understand his family, not at all.

I pull out my phone. "Then I'll invite you to ours."

His eyes widen. "What? No, D. You don't have to?—"

I click send on the invite link to Rory. "It's already done. It's up to you if you accept or not."

He blinks. "Is anyone else besides your family in there?"

I tuck my phone away. "Not yet."

"D…" His teeth scrape across his bottom lip. "You didn't have to do that."

"I wanted to." I lean my forearms on the table. "Will you tell me about them?"

His lips press. "It's not like they're monsters or anything."

"Okay."

I wait.

He swipes his napkin off the table and fiddles with it. "They're outdoorsy, is all. Hunting and fishing. They're survivalists. My brothers are all into it too." He glances down at his lap. "I'm just different. I don't fit, and everyone knows it."

"That sounds really lonely."

"It's fine," he says stiffly. "It's silly to complain about. A lot of people have it worse."

I clear my throat. "Has anyone ever put you first, Rory?"

His lips part. He doesn't say anything, but I can read the answer all over his face.

No . In his entire life, no one has ever really put him first.

What is wrong with us? I mean, all of us? Why are people like this? If someone like Rory doesn't know how amazing he is, then what the fuck are we, as a whole damn society, doing? Why are we even going about life if?—

"You do."

My focus snaps back to him. "Is that true?"

"All the time, D." He swallows. "You put me first. I always feel so seen with you. Like you're listening."

"I am listening."

He pales slightly, fidgeting again. "And like you can't stop looking."

Well, that's the truth. "I really can't stop looking."

A blush warms across his cheeks, and it must be pretty intense for me to see it in the dark. "I still don't know why."

My brows rise. "Because you're a gorgeous as fuck man who I want to pull onto my lap and kiss for hours." I pause as the server returns with our tab.

Rory's blush deepens. He's looking down, like he's shy about someone overhearing what I just said. Or like… he thinks I'm shy about it? Like he thinks I wouldn't say that for someone to overhear?

I clear my throat, glancing up at the server. "My date is hot, don't you think?"

The guy doesn't miss a beat. "Absolutely, sir. I completely agree."

"And," I continue despite Rory's fierce blush, "he's funny and kind and curious and intelligent." Rory's blush just keeps deepening, his lips parting like he doesn't know what to say. "He's absolutely fucking amazing," I add.

The server smiles at us. "I can see that."

Rory's mouth drops open after the server takes our plates. "How do you just keep doing that?"

"Doing what?"

"Making me feel like…" He licks his lips. "Like I'm in one of the books I read. Like I'm…"

"Worth it?" I shrug because it's the most obvious fact in the entire world. Even if he doesn't see it, I always will. "Because you are."

I wake slowly, pillow under my head, warmth all along my side. Rory's next to me, a soft light illuminating his face, his glasses relaxed on his nose. I'm surprised I'm not smothering him, but then I realize he's propped on a pillow. It takes me a moment to realize the light's from his reader.

"What time is it?" I mumble. The room is dark, everything quiet, sleep still heavy in my eyes. My skin is clammy from being under the sheet, so I throw it off and groan at my boner, which is ever present with Rory now.

"Sorry." He slides his teeth over his lip, his gaze moving down and taking in my erection before tearing his eyes up to my face. "I didn't mean to wake you."

"I'd rather be awake if you are." I turn on my side and inch closer to him, careful not to brush my dick against his thigh. We haven't touched dicks, and I don't want to make it weird, especially since I haven't forgotten he's got some unease around that. But I want to be closer to him, so I reach out and set my palm on his stomach, feeling the way his breath catches.

Will I get to do this when we return? Will I get to fall asleep with him right next to me? Will he crawl into the space under my arm like he did for a few blissful minutes last night?

What if, when we get home, everything goes back to the way it was before?

"Why are you up?" I ask him. "Trouble sleeping?"

"I was thinking." His stomach rises and falls under my hand. "The last couple of days have been… a lot."

"What's a lot? Give me details."

He hesitates then nods.

I think he's getting used to me pushing him more.

"You," he says.

"Me?"

He nods. "And graduating. Moving. All of it."

"I feel that too." I stroke my thumb over his navel, careful not to dip lower. Although, Jesus, I want to make him feel good. But making him feel good isn't just about his dick.

So instead, I pick up his free hand, moving it to my mouth and then flipping it over to kiss the inside of his wrist. "I like your wrists."

He sputters out a laugh. "My wrists?"

"The skin here." I lightly lick the inside of his wrist, enjoying the gasp that leaves his mouth and the way his hips shift up, the strain of his erection against the sheet.

Ohhh fuck. I'm waking up quickly.

I smile against his wrist. "The skin is so tender here."

He moans softly, his eyes sliding down me, lingering on my crotch. But then he takes his hand away and settles the reader over his lap. Is he covering himself?

A dart of worry stiffens my shoulders. I want him to feel good around me. And not like he needs to hide.

I drag my teeth over my bottom lip. "I like what I see."

He blinks, lashes brushing the inside of his glasses. "What?"

"Everything," I say. "I like what I see. Covered up or not, it's completely up to you. But I like it all."

"D…" His eyes dart past me to where my phone lights up with a notification.

I keep looking at him, wondering if he's going to talk. Instead, he nods at my phone, so I give him some space and twist to snag it off the bedside table then smile at the screen.

"Look." I tilt it toward him. "My dad."

In the family chat, right under the notification where it said I invited Rory, one of my dads typed Welcome, Rory! three times in a row followed by a gif of balloons.

Rory blinks at the screen. "I didn't even accept. I…" His voice cracks. "Your dad is…"

My other dad replied too. So good to have you, Rory. Send some pictures of D. He's always just sending pictures of you.

Rory clears his throat. "They really want me in there?"

"Why wouldn't they?" I toss the phone aside and then rotate back to him. "Are you reading about Leo and Oliver?"

He smiles. "I started it over again. They've kinda become a comfort read for me, I guess. Whenever the world feels like too much, I pull them up. And things feel better for a while."

"Will you read to me?"

He's quiet long enough that I finally pick up my head to look up at him more directly. He's studying me, eyes moving along my face, down my body where I'm still rock hard.

"You'd really want that?" he asks.

"I want to know what happens with them. And you know, I'm not all that great at reading. I'd rather listen to you."

"Do you want me to start at the beginning?"

"If that's cool."

He swipes his reader awake.

Then he starts. The first words are in Leo's point of view, telling us about this guy he'd seen. He's completely entranced with Oliver, every little thing he does, every thought, every movement, every breath. Like Oliver is the most amazing man in the world, and Leo is just lucky to be anywhere in the vicinity of him.

I close my eyes and listen to Rory's voice in the deep quiet of the night while I snuggle closer to him. And he snuggles back, right against me, clammy skin and rigid dick and all.

I sigh happily. I understand, Leo.

I'm there, too.