Page 69 of Jealous Guy

Idon’t know what day it is, but I do know that I woke up in Orion’s bed this morning, and I’m pretty sure I’m going to go fall asleep in it tonight. It’s the best feeling ever. The past few days have been a blur. We’ve been going to class when we can drag ourselves out, but we’ve definitely been home a lot more than usual. Out in the real world, things are ticking over like always, but when the front door clicks shut, and it’s just me and Orion alone together, clothes go flying.

Every time is the same. All-consuming. Goodness that bends my mind and leaves me flat on my back, gasping for air and seeing stars. Afterward, when we’ve made each other come until we can’t anymore, we revert to something resembling normal for us. We talk about what we want to eat for dinner and kick back on the sofa and watch hockey. I yell at the TV, and Orion yells at me not to. We laugh like we always do and take the piss out of each other.

It’s just that now, when it happens, a current flows between us that wasn’t there before.

That’s not to say it’s been plain sailing. Since I started overthinking things, I haven’t been able to stop. When I’m not buried inside him, or close enough to him that I could reach out and touch him, my mind takes off at a canter and races to dark places.

The way things are between us now is incredible, but they’re unspoken. I have the biggest crush ever on Orion, my best friend in all the world, and I haven’t told him. I want to. I need to. But I’m afraid. I know I’m probably catastrophizing, but at the same time, if this is casual for him and he wants to see other people or anything like that, I definitely won’t be okay.

I’ve been messaging my sisters incessantly about it. All of them, individually, for maximum benefit. Unfortunately for me, they’re very close and talk to each other all the time. Yesterday, they realized I was rehashing the same things about Orion to each of them in turn, so Kirst created a group chat to rein me in. She named it We All Think You Should Tell Orion How You Feel About Him.

Now none of them will reply if I message them about him outside the chat.

It’s the worst because no matter how I try to explain it, none of them seem to be able to understand how hot Orion is, or how much I’ll die if he doesn’t feel the same way I do.

I’ve never felt like this. I feel like I’m floating when I see his face, like tiny bubbles are popping in my brain when he smiles at me. When we touch, we create something beautiful that exists between us, and us only. It’s a connection so pure and singular that when I close my eyes, I can almost see it. A warm, tingling pathway that stretches out from his heart to mine.

His hands to my hands.

His lips to mine.

I honestly can’t imagine what all these feelings could be if they aren’t love, but at the same time, I recently asked O if he’d ever had a crush on me, and he said, “For, like, a minute.”

He was referring to when we first met. And that was years ago.

I open the We All Think You Should Tell Orion How You Feel About Him group chat and fire off a quick message.

How bad is it when someone says they had a crush on you for ‘like a minute’ six years ago?

Kirst:

Love you, Jordy.

Keeley:

Proud of you, little brother.

Fuck! My sisters are the worst.

Oh God. There he is. All sleepy, with a crease ironed into his cheek by his pillow. His hair is standing up at the back, probably from what I did to him in the middle of the night, and it’s only making him look hotter. He turns to get milk out of the fridge for his coffee, and great, just great, there’s his perfect ass. Attached to him, like always.

It’s too much.

I can’t handle it.

“You were up early. Where’d you go?” he asks.

“I went to my economics class.”

It’s a nightmare class. Boring as hell, and first thing on a Friday morning. I would have skipped it, except that I received an email from my professor the other day, strenuously recommending that I not skip any more classes this semester or I risk losing my credit. I dragged myself out despite a strong objection from my dick. Leaving Orion in bed alone was a very unpleasant sort of torment.

Orion’s brows rise fractionally at the news. “I didn’t hear you leave.”

“I tried to be quiet,” I say.

I watched you sleep for as long as I could, I think, using all my focus to try to establish a telepathic link with him so he’ll know what I’m thinking in the absence of me having the balls to tell him. You’re so beautiful. I could have watched you for hours.

His expression softens, eyes turning to dark molten chocolate. “Have you eaten yet?”