Page 15 of Crease Collision

Sjukt snygg, we’d say at home. Sickeningly handsome. Here, people probably just call him sexy as fuck. I smile, remembering how he laughed when I spoke American for him.

By the time I left, a knot in him had loosened, but not completely. There was a deeper one no part of me could reach, and knowing that made me want to find it more. This is what I should pay attention to and won’t.

Because I have knots too. Not the same ones, but enough to recognize them in others.

I know what it looks like when someone is trying hard to pretend they are fine. A joke arrives too quickly, or a smile doesn’t quite reach the eyes. I recognize the way a man asks to be held and then resents me for holding him.

The cost of standing close enough to see it can be high. Once, my best friend asked me to say I would not make myself small again so someone else could be comfortable. I said I would try. The promise still sits in my chest.

What a night, though. I have never been more satisfied than I was with Kai. Blood rushes south as memories surface, and my right hand is eager to help. But after Kai, jerking off would be boring.

It’s been more than a year since the last person who almost mattered. Her name was Astrid. But being with Kai confirmed something I already suspected. Women are fun; men are trouble. Apparently, I prefer the trouble.

I knew this before he asked me to stay, which he did so badly he could have won an award. He had become quiet, and I assumed he was working out how to send me home. Then he opened his mouth.

“Since we… I don’t… You…”

He turned red from chest to ears, with every nerve probably firing at once as he fought to stay calm. It was the same look he had during sex: completely undone and trying not to show it. He is beautiful when he’s sure of himself, and even better when he’s losing the fight for self-control.

“You’re not bad,” he’d said, as if it were a massive compliment.

Not bad. It almost made me laugh in his face, but when I saw what it had cost him to get the words out, I didn’t. I nodded seriously and agreed, the way you accept something a person can barely afford to give. I’d bet the season he’s never made that offer to a hookup before.

My phone buzzes as I am shutting off the PlayStation.

KAI: You alive or did I wear you out?

I’m chuckling before I finish reading it.

OSKAR: I think I wore you out. Did you fall asleep after I left and wake up wanting more from me?

KAI: Get that big head under control.

OSKAR: My head is normal size. At least the one on my shoulders.

KAI: It’s an expression. Having a big head means you’re full of yourself.

OSKAR: Thank you, English tutor. But I know this.

OSKAR: Or as an American might say, bruh, you are cooked.

He takes a moment to reply.

KAI: Okay, I just spat water all over the room.

OSKAR: Wish I’d been there to see it, dude.

KAI: Kiss my ass.

And there it is. My face gets hot. How does he do that from half a city away?

OSKAR: With pleasure. I know how much you like it, so I’m on my way.

OSKAR: You will moan for me?

KAI: As tempting as that sounds, I’m too sore to do anything down there until I get some sleep.

OSKAR: Is your mouth sore too? I could kiss your ass and let you blow me.