Page 49 of Over the Line

“Just a little—” The word “stiff” almost tumbled out, but I caught myself and managed, “Sore.”

His brow pinched. “You’re okay, though?”

I nodded. “Yeah. I’m good.”

“Physically.” He inclined his head. “But you took off in here, and…”

Swallowing, I avoided his gaze. Either I sucked at being subtle, or he was seriously observant. Whatever the case, he’d clocked that I hadn’t just come in here for an iced tea refill, and really, why was I being cagey? I needed to put it out there and let the chips fall however they fell before I lost my stupid mind.

I put the glasses down on the counter, took a deep breath, and faced him. “Look, I just want to make sure we’re on the same page. Or, uh, I guess be transparent. Full disclosure.” I waved a hand. “Something.”

Alarm widened his eyes. “Okay. What about?”

“Uh, well…” I shifted my weight, ignoring the protests from various sore body parts. “You, um… You know I’m gay, right?” My heart went absolutely wild. There was no escaping what I was implying.

Garrett tilted his head. “Yeah? I do? That’s, um… That’s public knowledge, isn’t it?” His eyes asked, And?

“It is, yeah.” I laughed nervously. “I haven’t exactly been subtle about it.” Sobering, I fought the urge to fidget even more. I was twitchy and struggled to stay still under the best of circumstances. When I was in the process of making an ass of myself in front of a man I wanted this bad? A man who was probably straight? Yeah, “twitchy” wasn’t even the half of it. “I just, uh… I guess, inviting you over tonight, I…”

Fuck. I ran out of words. The heat in my face could’ve melted an ice rink.

I laughed again and shifted my weight, not that it helped much. “God, I’m really playing this cool, aren’t I?”

Garrett studied me for a painfully long moment. I couldn’t have read his expression to save my life, and I was too nervous and embarrassed to hold his gaze anyway.

I wasn’t ready when he whispered, “I do know you’re gay. And to put it bluntly, that’s half of why I accepted your invite.”

My heart slammed against my ribs. “Part of it?” I gulped. “What’s the, uh… What’s the other half?”

Garrett held my gaze. Then he stepped closer, his expression a mixture of boldness and bone-deep fear. Or maybe that was just me projecting.

When his hand landed on my waist, I forgot how to breathe.

“The other half,” he said quietly, “is that I’m bisexual.”

Oh. Hell.

“You… You are?”

“Mmhmm.” He glanced down at his hand on my side, and when he met my gaze again, fear was starting to win. His hand lightened. “I… uh… Maybe I’m reading this wrong, or I’m⁠—”

“The only way you’d be reading this wrong is if you thought I didn’t want you to kiss me.”

His eyebrows shot up. “Do you?” He sounded as breathless as I felt.

Ignoring my pounding heart, I snaked my arm around his waist. “I’ve wanted you to kiss me since the first time I met you.”

His whisper came out almost soundless: “Ooh, fuck…”

I swept my tongue across my lips and drew him just a little bit closer. Lifting my chin, I fought to keep my nerves out of my voice: “So, the question is—am I reading this wrong?”

“No, you are not,” he breathed, and then his hand was behind my neck and his mouth was on mine, and…

Holy shit.

I hadn’t been kissed in a long time, but I had been kissed before. I was just… pretty damn sure no one had ever stolen my breath like this. His lips were absolutely perfect against mine—soft, but insistent. The hand sliding up into my hair… the heat of his body against mine… oh my God.

I wrapped my arms around him and deepened the kiss, and oh, God, that little whimper almost ended me. My body was still bitching and complaining about all the abuse I’d put it through, but they took a backseat to everything Garrett’s kiss did to me.