It wasn't my fault.
I flopped onto my bed and banged the back of my head repeatedly against the pillow. How could things have gone so spectacularly wrong in so short a time? My mind was spinning with the implosion of nearly everything I thought was important and worth having. I had been so close to having it all...
I growled and rolled over, punching the mattress and yelling into my pillow. It wasn't long before the yells faded into gurgling tears because...I knew.
It was my fault.
“Intramural basketball starts next week, Gray; you ready? Huh? You ready for this?” Logan asked as he dribbled around me like an idiot. I laughed and kicked at the ball, catching it with the side of my foot and sending it bouncing. Logan flipped me off as he chased it into the nearby hedge.
“That's why you won't make the team, Gray. Maybe soccer is more your game.” he said, teasing me as he ran after the ball.
“Please,” I said, waving a hand. “Someone with a cannon for a leg would kick a ball through my face with my luck.”
We were walking home from school, but it seemed like Logan always had too much energy—especially if he had hold of a basketball. Logan fell into step beside me and I adjusted my backpack. He started to chatter about the tryouts and I knew I'd end up going. I liked playing sports, and I might even be good at them without pining for Logan when I was supposed to be focusing.
As long as I'd known him I'd had a pull in my stomach whenever I laid eyes on him. I'd done everything I could to make friends with him. I'd joined every team, attended every function but always seemed to fade into the background at the wrong moment or get myself hurt. In fact, that's really what Logan remembered about me before, that I was the klutz. He told me my nickname was backstop, like that big metal fence they put behind home plate.
My thoughts unraveled as he put me in a quick headlock, and then he broke it to retrieve his basketball before it got too far away, having dropped it to accost me. I scowled at him and pushed my hair back into place while he snickered. I probably wouldn't tell him, but I loved that he did that—the little wrestling thing. It probably meant nothing to him, but in my mind it showed his comfort level with me. Plus, he was touching me and I like that.
The funny thing is that my path to Logan ran through Seth McAllister, who also ended up being my other boyfriend. It was a little weird, not just how I got here, but dating two people. It was a little cumbersome, always trying to get us all on the same page, but we made it work for the most part. I had already loved Logan before, but after Seth convinced me to pony up cash at the charity kissing booth at the Valentine's dance and get my kiss from Logan...my world changed.
Before I knew it, I was dating both a guy who'd become my best friend, and the guy of my dreams. I think, looking back, that was actually the problem. Ever since the first kiss my body was ready for more. Making out with Seth was an exercise in futility because he wasn't willing to go any farther without Logan around—it took me weeks just to get his shirt off.
Logan was, for me, the opposite. I needed a tight reign or I'd have a sexual experience all by myself. That's what bothered be for a while, that I could have two distinct, intense sets of feelings for two different people. I knew if I let myself go and went after Logan the way I longed to, I'd hurt Seth. He was pretty clear, we had to bring Logan along. And I wasn't opposed! I definitely wasn't! I even talked to Seth about it and he agreed we needed to talk to Logan...and then we never did.
Seth was always finding an excuse, in my opinion, about why that discussion never happened. They were never concrete reasons, just something that always boiled down to the time not being right. I loved making out with them, but my dick was getting an awful lot of visits from my hand and, dammit, we were boyfriends! Wasn't some kind of sex a natural progression if everything was right? But, I guess, that was it; things weren't really right.
I'd never considered being part of a trio before. It was hard to balance all the emotions I was having, feeling both love and attraction to them both yet being frustrated that some conversations weren't being had and that our physical relations seemed to be at a standstill. I wanted to be a good boyfriend to them both and I feared I wasn't doing a good job. The only thing keeping me in check was how much I loved Seth; I didn't want to hurt him. Hell, Logan wouldn't have given me the time of day were it not for Seth. It was hard, though, to have them both so near and yet still being so frustrated at all the things I wanted to do with them. Even so, I wasn't a slobbering animal and I could—did—control myself.
But it was hard. Ever since Logan first kissed me I'd been living in a dream. I'd gone home that night feeling content in a way I'd never experienced before, lying awake and replaying that single, perfect moment. Then, when Seth and Logan wanted me to join their circle, I was overwhelmed. Seth was a great friend and Logan...
Glancing at him, his thick chestnut hair bouncing as he walked, I smiled to myself. Logan was fantastic. Not a dream, any more, but when he turned his focus on me...the world was just perfect.
“Gray!” he said, shoving me.
“You zoned out, were you even listening to me?” He was staring at me with his basketball pressed against his hip.
I chewed on my lip for a moment. “Um, no. Sorry, I guess I did kind of...space out.”
The corner of his mouth curled into a smile and he glanced away quickly before bringing his blue eyes back to me. “You're so...cute when you do that.”
My eyebrows crept up slowly and I smiled. “Well, that's why I do it. Just so you can think I'm cute.”
“Liar,” he said and laughed. Throwing an arm over my shoulders he said, “I was asking if you were coming over. Seth has a dentist's appointment but I'm sure we can all do a movie or something after dinner.”
“Cuddle puddle?” I asked.
He glanced at me, suddenly shy, but smiling. Softly he confirmed, “Yeah.”
“Well, um,” I said, pausing to clear my throat. “Your house it is.”
He idly tried to spin the ball on his finger as we walked, failing miserably. “Want to play basketball tomorrow? I need to work on my left hand.”
“What about Seth?”
He chuckled, “Seth's idea of playing defense is to kiss me.”
“Wait,” I said, stepping in front of him and dramatically placing a hand on his chest. “That's an option?”
He smiled again, blushing. “Stop.”
As we turned up his driveway Logan tossed the ball ahead of him, putting some backspin on it for control, and made a few moves before backing into a fadeaway jumper. The ball bounced off the front of the rim, ricocheted to the back iron and popped out of the hoop, a hard miss. He dropped his arms as the ball bounced past him and he turned and chased it across his lawn. Comically, he slipped and landed flat on his back on the grass.
I laughed as he sat up and grimaced at me. “Sure, laugh it up, fuzzball.”
“But Logan,” I said through my chuckles, “that was so graceful!”
He opened his mouth to reply and then his face contorted. He began looking around, quickly, and then swore as he jumped to his feet.
“What?” I asked, staying safely by the door. Normally I'd be ready to wrestle him on the lawn, but my shirt was white and my mother would kill me.
“Dog crap!” he groaned and stomped a foot. He lifted his shirt and shuddered. “Dammit! It got under my shirt! I need a shower!”
I burst out in giggles and he eyed me evilly. “I'm sure I can get some on you, Giggles.”
“No!” I said, laughing, and backed up a few steps. His basketball forgotten, he walked to the front door and unlocked it. The smell hit me, but I couldn't stop the giggles and he flipped me off again.
He ran to the laundry room and shucked his jeans and shirt, and I put our school bags on the kitchen table. I heard him as he walked to the bathroom and then turned on the spigot. I busied myself with getting us each a soda and carrying it to his room.
Logan's room was such a strange mashup of interests. He had basketball posters, another for a Broadway show and a video game. A small TV was on a bookshelf with game consoles underneath and beside that a desk with a laptop. His bed was messy from the night before and, come to think of it, I don't think I'd ever seen it made up. Clean clothed were piled up and waiting to be put away, and his dirty clothes were generally near his hamper. Mostly. I sipped my drink and set his down on his desk while I looked around once more at all the things that interested Logan Whitmore.
I heard the shower stop and, for some reason, realized Logan was going to want a snack. He loved to eat as much as I did. I placed my glass on his dresser to avoid mixing them up and turned for the door when Logan stepped through wrapped in just a towel.
I'd seen Logan in this state of undress before, but it was in the locker room after games or practices. Add to that, you had to be careful about who you looked at and how much in that kind of environment. But, this context was completely different. My internal temperature shot up way past normal and my eyes could go no wider. Droplets of water rested on his tanned skin and his hair was streaked darker where it was wetter.
Oh, and all he had on was a towel.
“You're doing it again.”
He smiled, that appealing shy smile I loved so much. He blushed but brought his eyes up to return my gaze.
“You know, zoning out.”
I shook my head. “No, I'm not zoned, Logan.” I tilted my head and said, “Well, maybe I am, but it's a weird kind where I'm pretty focused instead of just, you know, having my head in the clouds.”
He smiled a bit more confidently. “You act like you're never seen your boyfriend without a shirt on.”
I locked my gaze to his. “Not in his room. Not wet and with just a towel on. No sir, I have not.”
I took a step forward. My mind raged with the desire to touch him and with warnings that I could easily go too far this time. Seth wasn't here—but I could kiss him. I could kiss Logan and, oh goodness, did I ever want to kiss him. Even so, my mind swirled with guilt because my desire for my boyfriends was cresting, and one of them wasn't here.
My guilt evaporated as my lips met his. I pressed my body close to his, feeling the heat of his skin through my shirt. I placed my hand behind his head, burying my fingers in his thick hair and sliding my other hand to the bare small of his back.
His skin was burning up under my fingers. His lips pressed to mine eagerly and one hand gripped my neck, pulling me deeper into his kiss, my kiss...our kiss. I leaned into him as I pressed myself just that much closer and he toppled back against the wall and...lost the grip on his towel.
I stared and he, flustered, gathered the towel and pulled it behind him as if to wrap it again—but I couldn't let him. Not when I saw him, aroused by our passions and I stepped in close to block his attempt to cover. Instead I kissed him hard, my hand returning to his lower back, and then let it drift down slowly.
Logan moaned in my mouth and his hands were on me. We were pawing at each other, He fell back again under my assault, his shoulders hitting the wall. Between us, standing up and glistening with the evidence of his arousal, was something I'd spent a lot of time imagining—and my imagination had done it no justice. I placed a hand on his chest, fingers splayed, to keep him in place. I flicked my gaze from his erection to his eyes and slowly moved my hand toward him.
“I...I...Gray...” His speech had degraded to incomprehension, and I could understand why. In another breath he'd be in my hand.
Meeting his eyes I said, “Can I?”
His mouth worked silently for a moment, no more, and then he nodded. With no gentle caress, no thought other than sexual ecstasy, I took him in my hand and marveled at the feel. He sucked in his breath and stood up a little on his toes. I leaned in and kissed him as I began to slide my hand the length of his shaft and found the tip slick with his anticipation.
Now. Now was the time. I'd thought of doing it for a long time, and the last few months of dating had put this into overdrive in my head. I dropped to my knees, confronted with the blunt head of his penis and, with no more than a glance at his blue eyes, I opened my mouth and licked. A groan came from above and his leg muscles quivered. Needing to know more, I engulfed him.
“Oh! Uh, Grey...God!”
His groans only encouraged me, as if I needed any. It was finally happening! I was having sex with Logan, the boyfriend of my dreams and he was loving it! I did everything I'd been thinking of—bobbing, stroking his shaft, balls, even running my hands behind to cup his butt and pull him to me. I was in complete heaven, even as my own erection strained painfully in my jeans—and then he pulled out of my mouth.
Confused I looked up at him, then followed his gaze behind me to see Seth, staring at us, slack jawed.
Oh my God.
Things seem to blur from there. Seth left. Logan struggled to dress and I, I think, tried to go after Seth. My heart plummeted into my stomach as I realized my worst nightmare—I'd betrayed my best friend. We went out and hunted for him, called on his cell, texted but...nothing. Defeated we'd returned to Logan's house and sat in the living room, he on the couch and I on the loveseat. Logan was chewing his thumb and not making eye contact and I couldn't bring myself to talk. If I did, he would see through me and understand this was all my doing. I wanted to apologize for the pain I'd caused, but I couldn't. I'd wanted Logan, dreamed of him and he'd been so...
Seth turned up at Logan's some time later. Seth was stoned. I'd never thought he was that kind of person, but then could it be so bad if Seth was doing it? He was angry, but also strangely detached. He ate and we tried to explain, but it was no use. He broke up with us. After he left Logan, looking defeated and small, asked me to leave. I raised my hand to him, intending to touch his arm and ask him to reconsider, but he pulled away.
I hadn't meant it. It wasn't my fault. But I had wanted it and I had done it...it was all my fault.
Before I went to bed I tried to text Seth, to apologize. I couldn't think of words, but it didn't matter as his only replies were, 'I'm fine' or 'It's fine', and nothing more.
I slept poorly as my mind continued to turn over the events of the day before. My guilt lay heavy on me, an extra weight to carry through the day. I had to work at eleven, so I dragged myself to the shower and dawdled on my way to the cafe, just not caring that much about the job yet caring just enough to keep moving forward. What else was I going to do with my day? Seth had broken up with me and Logan wasn't talking to me...
When I entered the shop I saw there was a rush at the counter. Kyle, the owner, was moving quickly and efficiently behind the counter, and Seth was bustling as well. Seth glanced at me and just as quickly returned to his work. I felt a stab at that, but I think I masked it well enough as I grabbed my apron and started to help.
The work was pretty steady for the next hour or two and it meant that the awkwardness was limited between Seth and I. We each had tasks and not much time between them for talk of any real substance. Seth, for his part, was polite but cold, offering up 'sorry' if he bumped me and 'excuse me' to get by—that was the limit, though.
I couldn't help looking at him with sadness. I'd never seen him so closed off to me. After all the time he'd invested in cultivating me as a friend...the guilt slammed into me again and I felt tears coming on. I headed to the rear of the prep area and ran water in the deep sink to start catching up on all the dirty prep items. As I looked into the sink, the sound of water crashing into the stainless steel of the sink masked the ripping sobs I was assaulted with.
I sniffed and tried to get myself back under control. I didn't want to draw attention to myself and I didn't want Seth seeing me like this. In fact, there was a small part of me that was afraid he'd be glad to see me as hurt as I'd hurt him. It seemed so un-Seth-like that he could manage to be so indifferent, like he'd boxed whatever emotions he'd had while we'd been dating and simply put them away.
I sniffed and turned my head, just to hear.
“Come on. Kyle wants us to take a break.”
I shook my head and braced myself on the edge of the sink. “It's okay. I have a lot of dishes to catch up on.”
“Grayson,” said Kyle, coming from my side. I turned and saw him through the shelving where he prepped food. “Boss says you break...you break, buddy.”
I nodded slowly and turned from the sink. Seth was no longer there, but I found him outside, sitting on the picnic table behind the building. I sat down as well, facing away from him. For a minute it seemed that's the way it would stay; so close and yet remaining back to back in silence. I'd hurt him, so it was up to me, I thought.
Turning my head to the side I said, “I'm sorry, Seth.”
He stiffened, then slowly turned his face so I could see it in profile. “You shouldn't bring these kinds of things to work, Grayson. Kyle knows something's wrong.”
“I don't care,” I said, my voice taking on a raspy sound. I stood and turned to face him. “I'll quit, if you want. I just want to talk to you. To explain.”
He turned a bit to face me. “Not much to explain, is there? Logan's dick in your mouth, that about sum it up?”
I blinked a few times. “I didn't mean to.”
“Really? How do you explain being on your knees blowing him and, by the way, the fact he had no clothes on? Seems like you meant it.” Before I could respond, Seth was on his feet and facing me fully. “Oh, and let's not forget, Grayson. You were the one pushing for the next level. You were the one that kept bringing up sex. You were...the one...dammit!”
Seth put his hands in his hair and dug his fingers in. My emotions roiled, my guilt cooling and my anger heating up.
“I wanted it to be us. All of us. I talked to you,” I said, heat lacing my words. “I never lied to you, Seth! I'm not lying now! We didn't plan anything, I swear!”
He rubbed his eyes and then, dropping them to his sides, pursed his lips. “Look, I just don't want to hear it right now. I'm tired and I'm pissed and I'm hurt and...this isn't helping.”
“Seth...” I said and sighed. Nodding I said, slowly, “You may not believe me right now but...I do love you and I didn't mean to hurt you. This is my fault, I know that. Please don't hold it against Logan.”
Seth snorted. “Climbing up on your cross to protect Logan?”
I frowned. “No!” I sniffled and looked down before continuing, “He knows it was my fault, too. He's not really speaking to me.”
Silence filled the air between us, only the noise from passing cars echoing from the street broke the stillness. Seth's shoes came into my view, off to the side. They stopped and I braced myself.
“I meant what I said. We're still friends and if you need me to remind you that I still love you, I do. But I'm also hurt and angry and I need time. You tell me you never lied to me, and I accept that. But you need to accept that I haven't lied to you, either, and that I need space and time. I just said...mean things. I'm trying to avoid that.
“If you want my friendship so badly, then respect what I say. I need time and space.”
Then his feet were gone and I was alone behind the building.
When work was over, Seth left without a word. We'd stayed apart for the remainder of our shift and I'd held it together. I had no idea if it was a struggle for Seth—I was busy trying to respect his wishes. I walked home and was relieved to find that my mom was out; her note indicated grocery shopping. I climbed to my room and threw my coat on the dresser and kicked off my shoes before stretching out on my bed.
I lay for some time, as I had the night before, rolling things over in my head. Examining each moment and wishing I could make different choices. While I admit that I'd wanted that to happen with Logan, I also admitted that I'd thought it would happen with us three. I wasn't sure how that was supposed to work, but I'd assumed we were working toward it. After all, Seth and I had had conversations but it always seemed that Logan was the one who wasn't there yet.
The front door opened downstairs and I heard my mother's voice, indistinctly though. I figured she'd appreciate some help with the groceries, so I pried myself out of bed and was surprised at my bedroom door by Logan.
“Oh. Um, hi,” he said, looking out of place.
“Hey,” I said, my voice softening just at seeing him. “I heard my mom, I was just going to, um, help with the groceries.”
“We kind of met outside. I helped her, they're all in.”
“Oh.” I hesitated, “Well, thanks. Come in?”
He nodded, seeming relieved that I might have simply closed the door. I thought that was odd, considering he hadn't done anything wrong. I closed my door and turned to find him standing in the middle of the room, looking as if he didn't know what to do.
I stepped around him to find his face pulled inward, unhappy and I don't know what else. Tentatively I placed a hand on his shoulder, and that was all it took—he leaned into me, wrapping his arms around me and I hugged him in return.
“I'm sorry,” he whispered in my ear.
“For what? I screwed everything up,” I said. He tried to pull away but I held on desperately. “Please, just a minute more.”
He stopped struggling and went back to returning the embrace. He shook in my arms and I knew he was crying, which set off my own tears. Not great sobs like before, at work. Now it was relief, stress perhaps, sluicing down my face as I realized I hadn't lost Logan, not completely. A small voice in my head said this could be his final goodbye, that I was misreading him like I did so many things. I ran a hand up his back and into his hair, pushing his face closer to mine.
“You smell good,” I said and letting out a small bark of a laugh at my silly timing for a compliment.
He pulled back slowly and smiled at me, his eyes rimmed red. He brought the back of his fingers to my face and I leaned into the touch, gently. He let out a long, wavering sigh and said that we should probably talk.
I nodded, slowly. I felt fragile. If he said we were done, I knew the strong front I was projecting would collapse like sandcastles against the incoming tide. He took off his coat and tossed it on the back of my chair, where it slid off onto the floor. He didn't bother with retrieving it. We sat on my bed. I pushed my way back so I was leaning against my headboard while Logan kicked his shoes off and sat up beside me. He touched the back of my hand, his fingertips trailing across the back of my knuckles and up to my wrist.
“I'm sorry for yesterday. It's all my fault.”
Whatever I had thought he might say, this certainly wasn't it.
“How can you say that?” I demanded, almost as if he was stealing something from me. “You didn't do anything! I was the one that came onto you! I was the one that...that...I blew you.”
Logan had shrunk in on himself as I'd listed my reasons, and my head of steam disappeared as I looked on him trying to fold in on himself. His gaze flicked up to mine and then back down, as if I might start telling him some more how wrong he was.
“I'm sorry,” I whispered and reached for his hand. He gripped my hand desperately and lifted his face to show crumpled features. He was miserable.
“It's okay,” he said, his voice nothing more than a croak. “But you're wrong, Gray. Maybe not totally, but...you asked me, remember? I could have said no.”
“Well...” My mind was filling with ideas about how I might have reacted had the tables been reversed—even if the players were changed—and I think I'd be hard pressed to have any real chance at turning down Logan or Seth.
“Nope,” Logan replied, shaking his head. “You don't understand.” he looked at me then, his blue eyes filled with pain and beginning to fill with tears. “I said no to Seth, but I said yes to you.”
I tilted my head and frowned at him. “Seth...wait, you guys were going to have sex?”
He nodded, his tears tracking down his cheeks. “A couple of months ago. I talked a lot with my uncle Gary.” He looked up at me earnestly while saying this. “I talked to him about what I was going through, what I was trying to understand. When Seth and I...when we could have...I wasn't ready. I was...I'd...guys hadn't been my thing, you know?
“I was really struggling and there was even a time where I was avoiding Seth, trying to hide. It made me miserable!” He pounded the bed with his free hand, but tightened his grip on my own. He rubbed his free hand on his thigh and resumed, “It took a few weeks, but Seth and I got down to making out pretty well. It was good, you know?” he said, lifting his gaze to mine. “I was good with it, enjoyed it—enjoyed kissing Seth. It was still kind of off the wall to me, but I could do that and enjoy it.”
I cleared my throat. “That sounds like—”
“I know,” he said miserably. “Seth felt that way, too. But every time he tried to take that next step, I'd weird out. I felt bad. I did!” he said, his eyes wide as he looked at me. “I didn't want to disappoint him and I do love him! It's just...I...” he paused, cleared his throat and his gaze drifted down. “I didn't think I could do what...you did yesterday. At least, I wasn't ready. I didn't want things to be one sided and I didn't think Seth would either.”
A flip comment about me being okay with that arrangement died quietly in the back of my mind. In fact, I knew I wouldn't be, not for long.
He let out a cheerless laugh. “What then? You. You happened then.”
A feeling of dread crossed my heart and I whispered, “What do you mean?”
“I mean things were going slow but steady with Seth. I was getting comfortable being who I thought I was becoming. I wasn't as comfortable as Seth with the idea of being bi, and I thought maybe it was just Seth, for me. That kissing him would be the end of it. But then...” he lifted his gaze, eyes sorrowful. “Then there was the Valentine's Day dance and you came to the kissing booth. The look on your face before you ran away—”
“I don't think you can really run on crutches,” I interjected, trying to break some of the dark mood. His lips twitched, a smile dying almost unseen.
“You moved pretty fast. But, the look before the guys on the basketball team started to make fun. So...hopeful and excited and...nervous.” He shook his head. “It hit me like lightning, man. I mean, yeah I was pissed the team embarrassed us and who knows if other guys would have wanted to donate for a kiss with me or another guy they lined up for the booth, you know? That's leaving out any girls—you see what I'm saying?”
I nodded that I did.
“But that look, before it all went down, it stuck with me.” He looked at me and put his free hand on his chest. “It's not a look anyone's ever aimed at me. I felt this...I wanted to...fix it. I wanted to see what that look meant, maybe see it again. It was amazing! Then, when I caught you in the hall and you looked so scared, it made me angry again. Something pretty innocent had just gotten ripped away from you. Then when you told me that. Uh, kissing me was your dream...I knew I could make it right for you. That was a pretty powerful realization, that I could do that. I was pretty scared, though.”
“You? I can't imagine you being scared of anything,” I said, knowing that he was scared right now.
He snorted, but gave me a small smile. “You're full of shit. Anyway, that dance out there in the hall...it was kind of—”
He glanced at me and nodded, “Yeah. Perfect. The kiss, though? I know it was simple, not the way we kiss now, but it was pretty perfect, too, to me.”
“You never heard me complain.”
He smiled, a little red in his face and he looked down again. “When Seth suggested we include you I was all for it. I mean,” he said with a sigh, and then raised a hand to his forehead. “I was concerned about what Seth would think of the kiss at first, but he was completely for it. In fact, when I found out he set us up and said it was probably the most important kiss in our relationship—”
Logan nodded and said, “He saw us kiss. He was really happy about it. He kissed me in public, right out in front of the school and didn't care who saw.” He cleared his throat and then continued, “So when he suggested we make us a threesome, I went with it. Kind of selfish, but I...wanted to kiss you again. And I figured, it'd take more time—give me more time—to try and get comfortable with the idea of sex with a guy.”
I lay back and thought for a moment. “Did...were you not ready, yesterday? Did I...was it gross for you?”
“No,” he replied softly. He shifted a bit and then resumed speaking, “I thought about it last night when I couldn't sleep. I kept thinking I could have put some clothes on. I should have realized that...I don't know. Three people is hard.”
“Yeah. I have to admit, it was.”
Logan sniffled. “All I can think of is when Seth needed space from me before. I thought I was losing him as a friend and more. He's always going to be more, you know?”
“I think I do,” I said, nodding. “He's special.”
“Yeah, he is.”
We lay in silence, the sun slowly working its way down for the day. Bright orange rays lit the town outside my window and colored the room.
“I'm sorry I pushed you away yesterday. I'm sorry I didn't talk to you,” he said softly.
“It's okay. I understand.”
“Are you...going to break up with me, too?”
I looked over at him in surprise. His eyes were pleading, filled with concern. “I hadn't considered it, Logan. But, I have to ask...if you couldn't find it in yourself to take the next step with Seth...can you find that with me? Or is...are you...?”
“I'm not as straight as I thought I was,” he admitted. “I liked it, yesterday. I want to do that with—for—you, too. I want to try and be a good boyfriend to you.”
“Are you sure, Logan? Because I love you.”
“I'm sure. I love you, too.”
We kissed, lightly, and then cuddled together, two hurt boys trying to heal. Despondently I felt sorrow that Seth couldn't be here, healing as well. Logan and I didn't stir until my mom came to get us for dinner, and then I convinced Logan to stay the night. We talked and halfheartedly played a game before just turning on the TV and letting the noise fill the room.
More than anything we lay together, taking comfort that the other was still there. I had no hope of Seth returning to the bed with us, not as a boyfriend, but maybe that was the way it had to be. I didn't have to like it, and didn't know if I ever would make peace with it completely. But, having Logan beside me, it was enough.
I knew Logan and I wouldn't be back in that place where we'd be ready for sex again until things were more settled, but I did think we'd eventually get back there. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't looking forward to it and, I hope, I'm not being full of myself when I say that I think he is, too.