32

Chapter 32

For the next hour, Richard and I sat on my bed, the space between us closing as he talked about everything he'd kept bottled up for years. He told me how long he'd liked me, how he'd convinced himself he didn't have a chance, and how pretending not to care was easier than facing the truth.

Hearing him lay it all out made me see him in a different light. It felt almost unreal that someone like him, handsome, confident, and effortlessly charismatic, could feel this way about me, especially when he could have anyone he wanted with just a glance.

"I've always felt like I'm home when I'm with you," he said quietly. "You always see right through me and with you, I don't need to pretend or wear a mask."

His words lingered in the air, leaving me speechless. I stayed quiet, letting him fill the silence with his version of us. He smiled as he started recounting moments that had barely registered for me but clearly meant everything to him.  It was like we'd been living two separate stories, seeing the same moments from entirely different perspectives.

"Wait." I interrupted as something clicked. "So, you're telling me that when you barged into my room and asked if I liked someone younger, you were actually asking if you had a chance... with me?"

"Basically, yeah," he admitted with a crooked smile breaking through his nerves.

"Oh." the realization hitting me like a delayed punch. "I thought you were talking about Andrea!" A laugh slipped out before I could stop it.

He rolled his eyes and scoffed. "Please. You're the only person I've ever liked."

That shut me up for a moment, but then another thought came rushing in. "Wait. So why did you ignore me after your high school graduation party? You avoided me for years."

His smile faded, his jaw tightening. "Oh, don't even get me started."

He ran a hand through his hair, frustration apparent on his face. "I was so excited to see you. It had been forever since you went off to college, and I thought... I don't know, I thought we'd talk. But then I walk into my own party, and there you are, kissing some random woman."

I blinked, caught off guard by the bitterness in his voice. "That wasn't some random woman. That was my girlfriend."

He gave me a sharp look. "Are you trying to piss me off?"

"No," I replied, biting back a grin. "Just setting the record straight. Please, continue."

He sighed as he shook his head. "That's when I thought I didn't have a chance. You liked women. End of story. So, yeah, I avoided you. It hurts too much to be around you. That's why I threw myself into anything that could distract me. Travelling, working out, dating, anything to convince myself I was over it."

He paused, exhaling slowly. "But then I came home, I saw you and it all hit me like a goddamn truck. I realized I hadn't moved on. Not even close. I still want you, and it pissed me off because it felt like all my efforts to forget you was wasted."

I didn't know what to say. "Oh," was all I managed to blurt out like a broken record.

His gaze softened, and he looked away briefly before continuing. "You always saw me as a kid, and I hated it.  I wanted you to see who I really am—a man who's been waiting, hoping you'd notice him. Someone you might want. Someone you could even desire."

He reached for my hand and lifted it gently to his lips, pressing a soft kiss against my skin. Heat crept up my neck, leaving me vulnerable under the intensity of his stare.

Hearing his side of the story made everything fall into place. Every interaction we had, his moods, his actions—it all made sense now. What I'd written off as childish or irrational suddenly seemed so obvious.

The distance I'd kept, the assumptions I'd made, felt ridiculous in hindsight. It was my job to maintain boundaries. He was my employer's son, and it was my responsibility to keep things professional. I never let myself assume, never let myself think his actions might mean more.

But maybe, deep down, part of me had always known. And I'd done everything I could to ignore it. Maybe I just didn't want to face it.

Richard's hand moved to my face, and he leaned in, his lips brushing mine. I lay back on the bed as he kissed me with his weight pressing down against me.

I couldn't deny it anymore. I wanted this. Wanted him.

For the past hour, as he poured his heart out, I was struggling to resist the urge to kiss him again.  There was this the hunger that was impossible to ignore.

His tongue claimed mine, bold and unapologetic, while his hands slid beneath my shirt. His rough fingers tracing the lines of my skin as if he was memorizing every inch. The sensation was overwhelming, and a soft gasp escaped me. God, it had been so long since I'd been with anyone. Too long. A jolt of panic shot through me. Wait. How do you even do this? My mind raced. I'd only ever been with women.

I felt him, hard and insistent against me. My own body responded  just as eagerly. Everything was happening too fast.

I pushed Richard back, both of us panting as we tried to catch our breath. His eyes were glassy. His expression somewhere between dazed and desperate. I hated how much it turned me on for some reason.

"Do you think we're moving a little too fast?" I managed to ask.

"No," he said simply. "If anything, I wish we'd done this sooner." He leaned in again, clearly not ready to stop.

"Richard, wait." My words almost slurry, but he obeyed, pulling back reluctantly. He looked at me with the kind of frustration you'd see in a restless dog denied for a run.

"Can we... slow down? I mean, I want you, but I don't think I'm ready yet."

He sighed, pouting like I'd just stolen his favorite toy, but he nodded and shifted off me to lie by my side. The tension in the room didn't dissipate entirely. I sucked in a deep breath, trying to calm the storm raging inside me.

"I hope you don't change your mind about us," he said, his voice tinged with sadness.

I turned to him, cradling his face in my hand. His features were flawless—too perfect—but it was the vulnerability in his eyes that did it for me. "I'm not changing my mind." I said, my voice firm. " A little time is all I ask."

His expression softened, and he leaned into my touch, a wave of relief evident in his eyes. "Good," he murmured, "Because there's no turning back now."

And just like that, he kissed me again, slower this time, savoring every second.

"Richard..." I gasped against his lips, unable to stop the smile spreading across my face.

He groaned dramatically, pulling back with an exaggerated look of frustration. "You're killing me, you know that?"

I couldn't help but laugh. "You'll survive," I teased, grinning. "So, how about that breakfast you promised me?" I added, remembering his earlier vow.

He groaned again, dragging a hand down his face like I was testing the limits of his patience. "Fine," he muttered, flopping back onto the bed. Then, with a mischievous smirk, he added, "Though I had a different kind of breakfast in mind..."

I grabbed a pillow and gave him a firm smack on the head, effectively silencing his filthy mouth.

****************

I spent half the day spiraling. The idea of what might happen tonight had my stomach in knots. Do I really have to do this? I stared at my laptop screen, reading the top advice on the forum I found. Hours of research had led me down a rabbit hole of questions I wasn't sure I wanted answered.

I was Googling things I never imagined typing into a search bar. How do two men even do it? Not just the mechanics—I got that part eventually—but everything else. What should I expect? Was it going to hurt? Was I overthinking?

Of course, Carl always does his homework. Diving in blind wasn't an option. Not for something like this.

I paced the room, my nerves unraveling. The kiss we'd shared earlier kept replaying in my mind, leaving me breathless and jittery. It had been good—too good—but the thought of what might come next had me second-guessing everything.

The house was empty. Just the two of us. No parents. No workers. No distractions. If there was ever a perfect time, it was now.

I stopped mid-step, forcing myself to take a deep breath. Okay, Carl. You've got this. You're ready. After a final glance in the mirror, I squared my shoulders and made my way upstairs to Richard's room.

By the time I reached his door, my nerves were back in full force. My pulse raced as I stared at the wooden door, my hand hovering just inches from the surface. After another deep breath, I knocked.

The door swung open almost immediately, like he'd been waiting just on the other side. His grin was wide, shameless, and so annoyingly confident.

He didn't waste a second. His hands grabbed me, pulling me inside, and before I could even say hello, his mouth was on mine. It was overwhelming and hot, stealing what little composure I had left.

"Did you do your research?" I asked, breathless, when he finally let me come up for air.

His lips brushed mine as he smirked. "For what? I'm confident with my skills."

This pompous little guy.

"Well, do you at least have it?" I asked the most important question.

"Oh, I have it," he said, pressing his hips against me in a way that leaves nothing to the imagination.

"I'm glad you do but that's not what I meant." I snapped, shoving him back slightly.

He frowned, his expression genuinely confused. "What do you mean?"

"Seriously?" I stared at him judgingly.

"Did I do something wrong? What's the problem?"

"The fact that you don't even know what I'm talking about sums it all," I bit my lip as I'm starting to get infuriated. "I don't think we're ready for this."

"Wait, what? Carl, come on. Talk to me. What's going on?"

"You didn't even bother to prepare! You probably spent the whole day watching TV while I—" I cut myself off, shaking my head in frustration. "You know what? Forget it. I'm going back to my room. Feel free to... handle things yourself.""

I turned to leave, but his hand reached out, wrapping around my wrist and stopping me in my tracks.

"Carl," His voice more investigative now, like a teacher asking his student a personal question. "What is this really about?"

I said nothing and refused to meet his gaze, but his hand didn't let go. "Talk to me," he said again, his tone gentle but insistent.

I let out a long, defeated sigh. "I don't know. I feel like I'm putting in all the effort here, and you're acting like this is just another day."

Richard tilted his head, genuinely confused. "And? How is that a bad thing?"

"Because it's not just another day," I snapped, the words spilling out before I could stop them. "I haven't done it in a while, okay?"

"What do you mean 'it' have sex?"

I shushed him even though no one was in the house besides us. "Why do you have to say it like that?"

"Well what what would you like to call it? Fuck? Make love?"

"Ahh! Stop it! Hearing it makes it worse." I covered my face because I'm so embarrassed on his behalf.

His brows shot up, and then—oh god—his lips twitched into a teasing smile. "Don't tell me..." he said, his voice filled with mock horror. "You're blushing so hard Carl, wait—is this your first time?"

"No!" I hissed even more horrified. "But this is different, okay? And why am I the only one nervous about it?"

"There's really nothing to be nervous about," he said soothingly, which only made me more annoyed.

"You just don't get it," I muttered, yanking my wrist free before storming off. Now I'm pissed. I don't know how to explain it but I'm pissed. Once I got to my room, I slammed my door behind me and threw myself onto the bed.

I pulled my hair as I lay on the mattress face down. Why couldn't he take this seriously? Why did he have to act like it was nothing? And why am I the only person affected here? This is something that I considered a big step, why can't he understand that? Remembering how casual he was acting like I am just one of his one night stand gets me fuming.

But as the minutes passed, my anger slowly began to fade. Maybe I had overreacted. Maybe he didn't need to prepare like I did. For some people, it's just... natural. Maybe he's right. Some people just do it during their first time without knowing what to expect.

Still, it didn't make me feel any better.

And yet, I couldn't stop thinking about him. Damn it. I'm still worked up, still wanting him, and it pisses me off. Damn him.

I made the decision and worked up the courage to go back and apologize. However, I opened my door and there he was, hand raised mid-air, about to knock.

"Hi," he said awkwardly with a sheepish smile.

"Hi." I said back trying my best to maintain a neutral face.

He rubbed the back of his neck, looking uncharacteristically nervous. "You're right," he admitted. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you feel like it wasn't important. This is... special, and I acted like it wasn't."

His apology caught me off guard. Just like that, my anger melted away. A little voice inside me wanted him to grovel. Where's your dignity Carl? Where? But somehow he said all the right words.

"And for the record," he added, pulling something from behind his back. "I did my research too." He held up a pack of condoms and a small bottle of lube, the very things I'd been hoping he'd have earlier.

He leaned closer. "Don't worry—I'll be gentle." he whispered seductively and I can feel his breath warm against my ear. Damn it, why did that turn me on so much? My restraint, already hanging by a thread, snapped entirely.

"Just shut up and kiss me." I demanded shamelessly.

And he did.

This time, I have no hesitation.

This time, I'm ready.