My chest tightened, and a wave of something that felt like butterflies fluttered through me. Nerves, maybe?
“No?”
“No.” He threaded one of his legs through mine. “I did. For a long time I truly hated you. But the last month… I don’t know.”
“I hated you too.” I rubbed his back. “For years. But yeah. Things are different now.”
“You think it’s because we’ve fucked?”
“Maybe.”
“Are… are things with me…”
“What?”
“Am I good?”
“What?”
He pushed his face into my chest. “Am I good at sex?”
It came out “am I goo a sesss,” but I got the gist of it.
“Um, yeah.” I laughed. “You’ve got mad skills, bruh.”
“I hate you.”
“No, you don’t.” I smiled.
“No. I don’t.”
“Are you hungry?”
“Ugh. Food is the last thing my stomach wants.”
“You need to eat. How about you take a shower, drink some water, and I’ll go get us breakfast?”
He lifted his head.
“What?”
“Nothing. It’s just weird seeing this nice side of you.”
“Feel special ‘cause not a lot of people get to see it.”
“Why’s that?” He folded his hands on my chest and looked down at me.
“I… I don’t know.” I averted my gaze. His scrutiny was too intense, too real.
It was as though he was reading my very thoughts.
“Come on. Let’s get up, and I’ll go grab some breakfast sandwiches. You like bacon or sausage?”
“Sausage.” He waggled his eyebrows. “Duh.”
I laughed and rubbed his back, a wave of affection washing over me. “You’re ridiculous.”
“Sometimes.” He grinned. “I bet you’re a bacon man.”