“And this mythical guy’s going to patiently date me while he could be hooking up with a million men on apps? I’ve never even kissed.”
Max stopped by a house that had multicolored lights strung up a tree—all the way to the top, thank you very much—oversized ornaments dangling from the barren branches. He took hold of Jeremy’s shoulders. Blue, red, green, pink, and gold glowed over Jeremy’s face, reflected in his glasses.
“You’re building this up way too much. You need to get out of your own way. It doesn’t have to be a big deal. I could kiss you right now.”
Jeremy’s eyes widened. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed with an audible gulp. It was freaking adorable, and Max wanted to ruffle his hair and keep him safe from the world.
He also really, really wanted to kiss him.
Hey, he’d be doing Jeremy a favor. Taking this big, scary thing and bringing it down to earth where it belonged. But he wanted this too.
Slowly, Max ran his gloved hands across Jeremy’s shoulders and up to frame his face. He hoped the leather wasn’t too cold, but Jeremy didn’t jerk away. He stood unmoving, lips parted, breathing shallowly, his eyes locked on Max’s under his color-sparkled glasses.
“Do you want me to kiss you?” Max asked.
“Do you want to kiss me?”
“Yep.”
Jeremy’s eyes flicked down to Max’s mouth and back up again. He breathed shallowly. “You’re just being nice.”
“Trust me, I’m not that nice. You’re gorgeous. Of course I want to kiss you.” He said it with a grin and a shrug, belying the thumping of his heart.
Leaning in a few inches, Jeremy licked his lips, and Jesus he was trying to kill Max. “Okay. Kiss me, please.”
Max smiled at the politeness. Watching Jeremy carefully, he leaned down and pressed their mouths together. Their lips were dry and cold and so were their noses. Max tilted his head slightly, kissing Jeremy tenderly. No tongue, nothing forceful or sexy. Just sweet—although as Jeremy clutched Max’s waist and let out a soft little sound, Max’s dick came to life.
With a vengeance.
Jeremy’s lips parted on a sigh, and Max couldn’t resist sweeping his tongue inside, tasting meat and sauerkraut—which he surely tasted of too, so it wasn’t bad—with a hint of sweet orange pop. Which was somehow perfect as Jeremy tentatively met Max’s tongue with his own.
After a few more seconds, Max leaned back, trying not to show how much he was affected. Because it was just a little kiss, and there was zero reason his dick should be joining the party with that level of enthusiasm. Jeremy blinked up at him, and Max still cradled his cheeks.
“There,” Max said hoarsely before clearing his throat. “Your first kiss is out of the way.”
Jeremy stared breathlessly. He was still gripping Max’s waist through the layer of his coat, and he licked his pink lips. Shit, Max’s dick liked that a whole lot. Jeremy smiled—beamed—and Max let go of him. Well, he let go of his face and took hold of his shoulders instead. He didn’t want Jeremy to feel rejected or anything.
It wasn’t because he couldn’t stop touching him.
He tried for a casual tone. “That wasn’t so bad, right?”
“No,” Jeremy whispered. He pushed up his snow-wet glasses. “Not bad at all. Not scary.”
Max wanted to tell him that now he just needed to find someone cool who’d go slow with him. Someone he trusted.
Someone like me.
Because it made sense, right? Max couldn’t rely on some random dude to take care of Jeremy the way he needed. The way he deserved. Max wanted to help him have fun and figure out what he liked. Did Jeremy have sensitive nipples? Would he like ass play? Getting fucked? Doing the fucking? Blow jobs, rimming?
He could imagine Jeremy naked and spread under him, his freckled skin flushed and that pink mouth open on a moan—
Max’s lungs seized, his balls tight and his dick rock hard now. Jeremy still stared up at him, and Max swore it was raw hunger he saw on Jeremy’s flushed face, in his parted lips and soft panting breaths. He wanted to offer Jeremy more. He’d promise to go slow and make it so good for him. Shit, he wanted to beg Jeremy for more—to let Max teach him.
Stepping back took all his willpower. Jeremy had only just been to his first gay bar. He’d just been kissed for the very first time. He was lonely and vulnerable, and the way he was looking at Max, he’d probably do anything Max asked.
Which was exactly why Max said with a smile, “We’d better keep walking.”
Ugh, why was Honey always right?
Max wanted Jeremy—there was no question now. No room for denial. He wanted him, but he had to let Jeremy sleep on his first kiss. Max had to figure out law school and his life—he wasn’t looking for a boyfriend or commitment. This wasn’t the plan.
Staying strong, Max started talking. They went back and forth about nothing in particular, randomly getting on the subject of the best holiday specials, agreeing Rudolph and the Grinch were tops. Max loved hearing Jeremy laugh and thrilled at the heat of his sneaked glances as they crossed the sleepy city. No reason he and Jeremy couldn’t have fun together, but he wouldn’t rush it.
Even if his lips still tingled from that kiss.
Chapter Five
It was the middle of the night, but Jeremy sent the text anyway.
He’d tried sleeping, but it was no use. He’d told himself he’d feel better once he sent the message, but now the knot in his stomach was a clenched fist squeezing. Hard. He stared at his phone, willing Max to respond even though it was seriously the middle of the night and Max was surely asleep—or pissed to be woken if his ringer was on.
Shit. Why had Jeremy pressed send? Could you take back a text? He jabbed at the options as if his phone would suddenly have a magic button along with “Forward” and “Copy” that said “Recall the Stupid Text You Just Sent the Guy Who Actually Kissed You With His Lips.”
Cringing, he cleaned his glasses with the hem of his old tee, then put them on to reread his message.
Thanks for being so cool. Sorry I’m such a drama queen about this stuff. But I had a great time.
At least he’d refrained from adding, “Especially when you kissed me!!! With your lips!!!”
There was so much he wanted to say, and it was all probably deeply uncool. Now he was extra anxious that he’d wrecked Max’s sleep. But no typing reply bubble appeared, so maybe Max was out for the count and it was okay. Hmm. Could Jeremy somehow get Max’s phone and delete the text before he woke up?
He groaned aloud in his empty room. “Sure. You’ll just break into his apartment, sneak into his room, hold his phone to his face to open it, and delete the text. Then sneak out. All without waking Max or his linebacker roommate. Or quarterback? Whatever kind of ‘back’ he is. Sure. Sounds great. Easy. Because you live in a wacky rom-com. And you pick locks now or something.”
The bubble. The bubble was happening! Jeremy nearly dropped his phone, shooting to his feet, the duvet twisting around his ankle and almost bringing him down. Pacing, he held his breath, dreading and anticipating Max’s response in equal measure. Was he mad? Was he going to tell Jeremy he was sick of his whiny shit? Was he—