The Art of Faking Straight

Chapter Twenty

         “You wore a bracelet,” I start to explain to Connor, but my voice isn't even, not even the least bit. It's been over an hour since I left Jack's house in a rush, not even bothering to grab Connor's bracelet out of his hand. Jack hadn't said anything and neither had I. I doubt either of us knew what to say, it was as if the bracelet spoke enough for us. I was ashamed, embarrassed, and scared while he was most likely disgusted, hurt, and shocked. I could have explained, should have explained, but really how do you even explain it? 

          I try again to tell Connor about what happened and this time my voice isn't as rough, but it's still not polite. “You wore a bracelet to the party with C. Hawkins on it and you didn't think that maybe, possibly, it'd be a bit suspicious if you left it somewhere?”

         Connor stares at me for a moment dumbstruck and I'm half surprised he doesn't immediately slap me across the face or punch me in the kidney for the way I'm talking to him.

         When he finally does speak his tone is calm, collected, and safe. Basically it's the complete opposite of mine. “I didn't exactly think I'd be in any position to lose it, Liam.”

         “Well you apparently were!” I yell, I can't help it. Jack's face when I left was enough to make me realize just how badly I screwed up.

         Connor begins to stroke an imaginary beard with his index finger and thumb, apparently not capable of taking anything serious anymore which only makes me that much more pissed. Then he says, “Yeah with you, if my memory serves me right.”

         And even though I'm mad and I just want to disappear for quite possibly the rest of eternity, I can't help but smile when he says that. I'm mad, not directly at him, but the situation itself, and yet, here he is stroking an invisible beard being absolutely calm. I can't tell if he's doing it to attempt to calm me or if he doesn't really care because he doesn't like Jack anyway, but I have a feeling it's a bit of both.

         “That's not fair,” I say, and then I realize that my voice isn't as strained as it was, I'm not as angry as I want to be.

         “I know,” he says, a grin already making its way onto his face. Then he leans forward so that he is almost touching my lips with his and I can't help but want to close the distance between us even though I'm supposed to be mad at him for being careless. Right when I lean in to meet him he pushes me backwards onto his bed. He chuckles as he says, “But those who fight fair never win, do they?”

         I don't have time to say anything witty and quite possibly unoriginal before he's suffocating me with his lips. Though I'd be lying if I said I didn't like it even if I am upset about the situation with Jack.

         I let him kiss me for awhile before I know I'll be forced to make the both of us stop. Our kissing is soft and careful, not wild and carefree as usual, but the passion and sensations are still there and that's all that really counts.

         After a few minutes I finally manage to gain enough control to tell him to stop. I don't want to, and I know he doesn't either, but we manage to do so anyway.

         “You know I'm still mad,” I say, but something tells me he won't be believing me. My voice gives me away, I'm not mad at Connor, but more at myself. I don't know what I was thinking that night at Jack's. Though, I doubt much was going on inside my head other than lustful thoughts about Connor, because well, there's a sure heck of a lot of that going on in there most of the time.

         He nods his head, but otherwise doesn't say anything.

         “I may have just lost my best friend,” I tell him wearily. Usually I'd be afraid to tell anyone this, it's far more vulnerable than I'm used to, but with Connor it just seems like it's okay to tell him things. Though, that's the way it should be really.

         He nods again.

         “And I'm pretty sure I won't be able to handle it.”