“I don’t have any good stories, Drew. I’d imagine you have more bad than good in your past, as well.”
I clear my throat, readying the question that’s been burning since Riley wouldn’t answer it. “Are you real brothers? You and Riley?”
Jesse leans forward, putting his elbows on the lip of the tub and puts his forehead against both fists. “In name and bond, yes.” He shakes his head. “In blood, no.”
I suspected as much. “I always wished I had a sister. Someone to share life with. It would have been easier. I could have tried harder if I had a reason.”
“You make your own reasons,” he says. “You pick something, and it can be anything good or bad that gives your life reason and you focus on it.” What does Jesse focus on, I wonder?
“I want to be better than I ever had any right to be. Better than anyone expected.”
“That’s for other people though. What do you want for yourself? Just for you?”
Dipping my head back to wet my hair, I let his question penetrate my senses. “I want tofeellike I’m better than anyone expected.”
His smile is small and sad. “Now we’re getting somewhere. How do you do that?”
“Read, for starters.” It’s a small thing for most people, most little kids, but for me it’s a huge thing that’s always loomed over me like a rain cloud.
“Is that why you chose that piece of artwork last night?” he asks.
“I guess. You don’t need a reason to choose art. You just have to like it.”
He shakes his head. “I don’t think you like it. I saw your face the first time you saw it and it terrified you.”
I blow bubbles in the water, keeping my eyes on the ornate faucet. “Maybe it did. Maybe it does.”
“That makes you brave. You chose something that frightened you.”
I look at him. “Is this an analogy? I’m bad with those.”
He smiles. “No, it’s an observation.”
“Is there anything else you’re observing about me?” I toss it out so nonchalant, I don’t expect an answer.
He cracks his neck. “That you’re wet.”
The feeling starts at my core and creeps up my spine, like an electrified charge. “I’m in a bath, Jesse. I’m wet. Yes.” I lick my lips.
“Are you going to continue choosing the frightening option?” he asks, tilting his head. “Or have you rethought your decision?”
“What are my other options?” My voice is barely a whisper.
Jesse scoots the stool so he’s mid-tub and leans forward until his arms are both in the water, right below my belly button, hovering. I still, my breath held and lodged in my throat. I’m scared to move, scared to speak, terrified he will pull away and put up the wall again. “I think you know your options, Drew.” He lays one hand flat on my stomach and I exhale and try to catch my breath at the same time. It’s an arduous task when a mere touch jolts me to life. Nothing has felt this numbing, like I might become a puddle of lifeless limbs if he releases me from his touch.
I swallow down the lump in my throat, but keep my eyes closed. My emotions might get the best of me if I’m looking at him. “I’ll tell you who I am now in exchange for what I want.”
“You said you didn’t know what you want.”
I hear his breaths—jagged and uneven. “I don’t. I live moment to moment, and this is what I want in this one. You’ll get there, to that place you’re dreaming about, but right now, be here. With me.” His hand slides between my legs and I open my knees, resting them on the side of the tub. I’d spread farther if I could. Jesse’s warm fingers find my clit and he strokes in small firm circles. I’m with him in the moment, but I also feel like I’m somewhere else entirely. An alternate universe where a man touching me feels good and welcomed. A place where my body responds the way it’s supposed to, and a man is making me feel good only because he wants to.
He knows exactly what he’s doing, and I know if I opened my eyes and saw the man, in the flesh, I’d come on the spot. As my abs flex and release, and I ride higher and higher, I know I’m going to come apart too soon, regardless. He has one hand resting on the inside of my thigh, holding me in place so I don’t slide, as my cheeks heat up. Close. I’m so, so close. Then Jesse stops, the hand between my legs disappearing. I open my eyes and he’s watching me, bottom lip between his teeth.
“Why did you stop?” I pant out. “I was almost there.” It’s a greedy statement, but I’m so wound up I could explode.
Jesse slides around to the end of the tub behind my head. “I’d tell you to finish yourself, but don’t get your hands wet.”
“What if I want to get my hands wet,” I say, exasperated, body vibrating with need.