Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 94460 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 472(@200wpm)___ 378(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94460 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 472(@200wpm)___ 378(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
But the difference between this dream and a typical nightmare was it hit differently and…
When I woke up I was as hard as a rock. All because in that dream I’d been touching, kissing and fucking Ronan.
That night, I turned Dahlia over, waking her up with those same types of kisses and touches. I told her how much I wanted her. How much I loved her.
All because of the dream I had about him.
I had to remind myself over and over, that was all it was. A crazy dream. Nothing more.
I needed to prove that to myself.
That I wasn’t attracted to men.
And maybe I wasn’t. Not really, not in the way gay men were attracted to others.
Maybe for some strange reason, I only felt that way about Ronan.
How could one guy—someone I met in class that first week of the semester—make me question everything?
My whole being.
My damn sexuality.
My relationship with the girlfriend who’d stuck by me over the last year.
It didn’t make sense.
None of it made sense.
So, I assumed it had to be wrong.
All of it.
My brain was broken or something.
I was broken.
I couldn’t find another explanation.
No matter what, I needed to fix it. To prove the dream had been just an odd fluke.
In an attempt to do so, I had slipped between Dahlia’s soft thighs, so opposite of Ronan’s. I kissed her soft lips. So opposite of Ronan’s.
I took my time making love to her, slamming the door on the thoughts of Ronan from inside my head.
When I finally spilled inside of Dahlia, I hoped to find relief. Or answers. Or confirmation that I was only attracted to women.
I found nothing. Not one answer. No relief at all.
Even worse, I was more confused than ever. Because this time, I didn’t even feel satisfied afterward.
I felt…
Empty.
And that scared the shit out of me.
I needed answers and I had none. I also wasn’t sure where to find them. Who to ask.
Maybe I needed a therapist. But my parents would want to know what was wrong, why I needed to see one and I couldn’t explain it to them. I couldn’t even explain it to myself.
After we climbed into the taxi and the driver asked for the address, I glanced over at Ronan sitting next to me in the dark back seat. “My apartment’s closer if you want to crash there tonight.”
Tonight. It was more like morning since it was about two a.m.
“Are you okay with that?” he asked, surprised.
He’d already spent a couple of nights on our couch in the apartment. Why should tonight’s kiss change that? Or make things uncomfortable?
Plus, if I was being honest with myself…
No, I wasn’t ready to be honest with myself. Forget that.
It took less than ten minutes to arrive at my apartment complex since the traffic was pretty nonexistent at that time of morning.
I had sobered up slightly while waiting for Jack and then the cab, but I was still a bit wobbly heading upstairs to our second floor apartment, so Ronan kept a hold of me while we hoofed it up the steps.
Once we got inside, I immediately spotted a problem.
Someone was already crashed on the couch. It had to be one of Thom’s buddies. No surprise that they must’ve partied tonight, too. And Thom must have had the same idea for his friend about crashing on the couch as I did for Ronan.
I was pretty damn sure that was where the similarity ended. I doubted Thom kissed his friend tonight, unlike me.
“Sorry,” I whispered as we stared down at the passed-out stranger on the old, worn couch we had found at a local yard sale. “I had no idea.”
“I can head back to my dorm.”
“No, stay. I can’t let you walk back to your dorm at this time of night, Roe. We’ll figure it out.”
“You want me to sleep on the floor?”
He didn’t seem too enthused about that possibility. Jack’s bed was empty right now but I had no idea when he’d come home. Not to mention, he probably wouldn’t appreciate someone else sleeping in it. Anyway, who knew when his sheets were last washed or changed.
If they were ever washed or changed.
I grimaced.
Having Dahlia come and stay over some nights made me keep up with straightening my room, making sure my dirty clothes made it into the hamper and ensuring my sheets and towels were somewhat clean.
Otherwise, I’d never hear the end of it. Not that I blamed her.
I tipped my head toward the hallway. “My bed’s a queen and big enough for the two of us.”
With his brow furrowed, Ronan stared at me with his deep brown eyes. “You want me to sleep in your bed. With you? That’s not going to bother you after…”
The kiss?
“We’re sharing a bed, nothing else,” I assured him.
The wrinkles smoothed out on his brow but he continued to stare at me like I had grown a second head.