Page 27 of Forgotten Prejudice

“Don’t give me that look,” he said, resting his hand on my thigh and squeezing it. “You’ll find out soon enough that I’m very blunt with my opinions. I see no point in hiding them. If your longtime friend punched you for your sexuality while also engaging in unprotected sex, then yeah, I think he’s a complete idiot who you are better off without.”

I’m better off without Kai in my life?

It wasn’t because Soren didn’t make sense that I found it hard to listen but because he made perfect sense. Lately, each time I met Kai, all he did was hurt me, so I was, in fact, better off without him. But admitting it was hard.

“How could I suddenly live without him?” I asked, my eyes focused on Soren’s hand that still squeezed my thigh.

He shrugged. “People come and go, Ashton. That’s life.”

As true as that might be, it was still hard to digest.

“W-What about you?” I found the courage to ask.

His lips curved up a second before he used his finger to angle my face up, then leaned close and kissed me. It was a short, sweet kiss, but I savored every second of it.

Stroking my cheek with the back of his finger, he smiled. “Let’s eat, and then let’s watch a movie. Okay?”

A lump of emotions formed in my throat. Sadness and hurt over Kai but also excitement and hope for Soren. By taking care of me, Soren managed to chase the bad away so that I felt safe and secure. He had all the answers to my problems, and that was exhilarating. With him, I had no reason to worry, and I wished for this thing between us to grow. But then something occurred to me. Soren and I could never be anything because this was all based on a lie.

My lie.

The second Soren learned I lied about my age, he’d be out of my life for good. Knowing that scared me to my core, so I swallowed back my guilt and nodded.

“As long as you pick the movie. I hate choosing,” I said.

Ash

Used to waking up in my small bed and to the sound of my mom’s dream catchers dangling in the wind, I was confused the first few seconds after opening my eyes to the view of West Hollywood.

That’s right, this is Soren’s house.

Yesterday, after eating and watching a movie together, Soren asked me if I’d like to spend the night. His offer immediately made me nervous because what if it were his way of suggesting we have sex? As it turned out, I jumped to a conclusion way too fast because other than cuddling me, Soren didn’t do anything. Each time he snuggled closer to my body, I hoped he’d make a move, and each time he didn’t, I was disappointed. I wanted Soren to fuck me, I was sure of it, but I was too scared to ask for it directly.

Good boy.

Soren had said those two words last night, and since then, they hadn’t left my mind. Whenever I replayed that moment in my head, the same shiver ran down my spine, and my skin heated up. I often picked porn movies where the top was the one in charge in the bedroom. I loved scenes where the bottom, who I always pictured myself as, was there for the purpose of pleasuring his partner. Soren definitely seemed to be the controlling type. Right? He had these undeniable dominant and caregiver vibes that made me hot all over whenever he was close.

I flipped to my stomach, then buried my face in the pillows. They smelled like Soren, and I inhaled deeply while wrapping myself with the comforter, enjoying how warm and cozy it was underneath the sheets.

Hold on a second.

I picked my head up and looked around, only now realizing Soren was missing. We went to sleep together, but now he was gone. The warmth I felt was replaced with discomfort. Did I outstay my welcome and it was his way of showing me that?

And while I wanted to get up and look for him, it also felt awkward. Just like the rest of his house, Soren’s room looked like a museum, with each piece of furniture carefully selected and put in place. So much so that I was scared of ruining the order by mistake.

On the side of the bed was a large glass closet that displayed his folded clothes, all organized by color. Although, I could only spot black, white, and gray there. Behind it was another bathroom, not the one we used yesterday. Yet, the most noticeable part of his room was the wall facing the bed.

Dozens of photos, all framed with a white background and black frame, hung on the wall in what looked like a precise pattern. There was something almost compulsive in the way those monochrome images were hung, perfectly aligned with each other.

Rising up so only my lower body was covered with the comforter, I began examining some of those images when someone cleared their throat, and I looked aside to find Soren leaning against the doorway. He was shirtless, with one hand shoved in his joggers while the other held a glass mug. And if he wasn’t sexy enough already, he also wore a pair of black-framed glasses I’d never seen him with before.

“I didn’t know you needed glasses.”

“I’ve got a low prescription, so I only put them on sometimes.” Taking the glasses off, he checked them out before wearing them again. He then glanced at me. “How’s your wrist?” he asked, and I then remembered I’d injured it.

Raising my arm up, I waved it with a slight smile on my face. “It’s okay.” My eyes went back to his wall. “How many pictures are there?” I tried to count them all but kept messing up the numbers.

“Two hundred and twenty.”