Dear God, Robin was shaking.
“This is the situation.” Robin swallowed hard. “I’m eighteen, I’m a virgin, and I don’t want to be one anymore.”
Dean frowned. “You say this like you expect me to do something about it.” Then it dawned on him. He leaned forward, his head in his hands. “Oh my God.” Everything his friends had said was true. I’m never gonna hear the end of this.
“Dean? Talk to me, please?”
He straightened and sat back against the cushions. “Robin… You’re cute and all, but… you are way too young for me.” Except that hadn’t stopped Dean from fantasizing about kissing him, had it? And not just kissing.
“I’m eighteen.” Robin’s eyes flashed. “I’m legal.”
“Legal is one thing, but…” Looking at Robin’s crestfallen face make his chest tighten. There had to be a way forward from this. “You’re gay.”
Robin nodded.
“Okay then. Do your parents know you’re gay?”
Another nod.
“When did they find out?”
“I told them at Thanksgiving.” Robin flashed a quick smile. “Over Thanksgiving dinner, actually.”
Dean chuckled. “Nice timing. How did they take it?”
“I didn’t actually come out with it and say ‘Hey, guess what? I’m gay.’”
“I’m intrigued.”
Robin gave him a word-for-word account of the dinner, and Dean had to admit he’d chosen a pretty unique way of doing it. He snorted when Robin related his comments to Ryan. “That sounds like your brother. So this is all new?”
“For them, it was. I’ve known for a while.” Robin’s shy smile was adorable. “You have no idea how long I waited for the perfect moment to tell them.” He cocked his head. “Your parents know about you, right?”
Dean laughed. “For a long while now.”
“How did you tell them?”
“I wasn’t as… circumspect as you. My mom caught me kissing Darryl Jacobs on the back porch. In my defense, I thought she wasn’t home. He’d come back with me after school, and we were out in the yard messing around with a ball. He looked so gorgeous in the afternoon sunlight, and I couldn’t resist stealing a kiss. It wasn’t the first time we’d kissed, you understand. But it was definitely the first time for my mom.”
“What happened?”
“Darryl said his goodbyes and scooted out of there like his ass was on fire. Mom took me in the kitchen, sat me down at the table, and asked how long it had been going on. She wasn’t angry. In fact, she was very calm. I got the idea she’d been sort of expecting it.” He grinned. “I think your parents betting on when you’d come out is hilarious.”
“I didn’t think so at the time,” Robin retorted. “And now, Mom wants to know if I’m seeing someone. They’re discussing me, if I’ve got a boyfriend I’m not telling them about.”
“So what was the plan with the ski instruction?” Except he had a sneaking suspicion he already knew.
Robin scowled. “I should never have listened to Ryan. It made me feel so awful, lying to you like that. I knew I had to be honest, which is why I came round this evening.” He shook his head. “I almost changed my mind. The thought of telling you all this terrified me.”
“I appreciate your honesty. And I am flattered. I’ve never been asked to be someone’s first before.” He locked gazes with Robin. “That is what you want, isn’t it?” If it wasn’t, Dean was going to look like a total idiot. An arrogant idiot at that.
Robin gave a slow nod, his face flushed. “Ryan made it sound like being a virgin was a bad thing.”
“He’s wrong,” Dean said decisively. “But I do know how you feel. I remember being in such a hurry to lose my virginity, I didn’t stop to think about what it meant.” He didn’t care that this was extremely personal information he was sharing. Robin needed to hear it.
“What do you mean?”
“I get the impression that nowadays for a lot of young people, sex is simply something you do. You know, like, ‘What are you doing this weekend?’ ‘Doing my homework, doing my chores, getting laid…’” Dean sighed. “It wasn’t like that for me. I wanted my first time to be with someone I cared for, someone who cared for me. Only, it didn’t happen quite that way.”
“Can you tell me about it?”
Dean nodded. “I think it’s important you hear this from someone. It was a snatched moment, over way too soon, with a boy who just wanted sex. So did I, for that matter, despite my wishing for it to be special. We didn’t take our time. Probably because we had no time. And if I could go back, I would do it differently.”
“And that’s exactly why I’m here,” Robin stressed. “I want to take my time. I don’t wanna be like you, looking back and regretting it. No offense.”
“None taken. So now, you’re going home.” Robin’s face fell, and Dean’s heart went out to him, but he had to be honest. “You said you need to take your time and think about it. So that’s exactly what you’re going to do—at home.” He felt confident he hadn’t given Robin any false hope, or made any promises he couldn’t keep.
Robin jerked his head up. “But does that mean—?”
“It means you’re going home,” Dean said firmly. Then he relented. “It doesn’t mean, however, that you can’t come back here, or that we’re never going to talk again.” He smiled. “Lake Placid is a small place.”
Robin got to his feet, and Dean walked with him to the front door. Robin paused, gazing at Dean’s face. “Do I get a kiss goodbye?”
Dean rolled his eyes before leaning in and giving him a peck on the cheek. When he straightened, Robin pouted adorably. “That’s it?”
Dean laughed. “Don’t push your luck. Now get your ass on that bike and pedal out of here.”
Robin’s smile was such a relief after the misery Dean had seen there a few seconds ago. “Bye for now.” And then he was climbing on his bike and pedaling like fury away from the house and along the street.
Dean closed the door, locked it, and leaned against it, his forehead kissing the glass window.
Now what do I do?
Chapter Eight
Dean poured himself a coffee, then sank into one of the chairs. The staffroom was about half full, and the lunch break had about twenty minutes left to run. He’d tucked himself away in a corner, hoping not to invite conversation.
Dean had a lot on his mind. Well, one thing in particular, about five-feet-six, light brown hair, light brown eyes, cute smile, gorgeous bod…
What am I going to do with you, Robin?
“Penny for them?”
Dean jerked his head up. Kate stood there, a plastic box filled with what looked like pasta salad in one hand, a cup of tea in the other. He stared at her blankly.
“Your thoughts. I’ll give you a pen—” She sighed. “Never mind. Are you okay? You looked like you were deep in thought over here.”