Ruthlessly His by Walker Cole Page B

still. What the hell was I thinking?
    Fuck. I just want to bounce on Colt’s dick. Bouncing is the best. Feeling a nice dick stretch me out and then bouncing up and down, watching their face as they grit their teeth. I hate how everyone jokes about cum-faces being unattractive. I think it’s one of the most attractive things in the world. It’s the person’s most personal face—it’s so private—and they’ve let you in to take a look at it. Unlike these private photos of Colt that I let out into the wide, ugly world.
    This pawnshop is full of stereos and guitars. In the window, there’s a neon sign saying ‘BUY AND SELL.' I tell the guy my camera model and ask if anything like that has come in. He shakes his head and offers me some wedding rings and says that he’ll give me a real good price for them. I cross it off the map. I check my phone to see if Colt has messaged me or anything. He’s not much of a texter. He’s old fashioned like that.
    After three more shops it starts to rain, and I head back to my apartment. The rain gets heavier the closer I get to home. Big, fat rain drops slap against my face. I try to think of what I’ll say to Colt if I ever see him again. People are running down the street to get out of the rain, but I don’t have it in me. I just trudge along, listening to my shoes squelch.
    I spot Colt waiting outside my apartment. There isn’t an awning or anything, and he’s soaking wet just like me. He looks less angry now, and sadder. I run up to him. “Colt,” I say. “I didn’t think I’d see you again, like, ever.”
    “I had to see you,” he says. “I’ve been feeling like such a freak because of this whole thing. And when I’m with you, I don’t feel like a freak at all.”
    I smile at him and push back some of his slick, gorgeous hair. “You’re soaking.”
    “Yes. Soaking is correct.”
    “Come on, let’s get you dry,” I say, and get my key.
    Our bodies leave a trail of puddles in the elevator as we make our way up. I don’t know how to be with Colt, whether he wants me to hold his hand or kiss or do anything at all physical. I know he wants to be with me, because he said so with own damn words, but is that it? Does he just need to spend some time in my company?
    We walk through my flat and he turns to me. “I haven’t forgiven you,” he says. “I know it’s both of our faults, really. But I’ve got all this anger, you know? It’s just unfair.” He looks so defeated.
    “It’s okay,” I say. “Just deal with it however you need to.”
    “It doesn’t help that you’re being so fucking understanding about the whole thing. This isn’t how Nancy and I used to sort things out. I just feel like yelling at your face.”
    “It doesn't look like you two ever really sorted things out. But if it’ll help, you should yell, Colt,” I say.
    “That’s what I mean! Stop being so understanding.”
    “I don’t know what you want,” I say.
    Colt slumps down in a chair. “I don’t know what I want either. How are we going to deal with this? I spoke to the PR guy at the university.”
    “Jesus, really? That seems like a really bad idea.”
    “It was. He was totally trying to screw me before he even found out what the meeting was about.”
    “Did you tell him?” I ask.
    “No. I didn’t trust him. He was this shifty dude. Kept saying things like ‘protecting the university’.”
    “What a dick,” I say, and sit down opposite Colt. “Let’s just plan for the worst.”
    “How the hell do we do that?”
    “Well, you come out as a bisexual dude, or whatever.”
    “That would end my career,” he says.
    “Would it really? Times are changing, you know. It’s not like we live in the south.”
    “Cold Spring might as well be Texas, as far as this is concerned,” he says.
    Colt walks through to the bathroom and strips. I take off my clothes out in the main room of my apartment. I know if I see him naked and sad I’m going to jump all over him. I