Page 30 of Love Hate

~Andy~

“So…does Hamlet want to fuck his mom?”

I stared at Trevor, not bothering to hide my surprise at his question from my face as my eyes widened and my mouth dropped open a little.

“Sorry, am I still not getting this?” he asked, a sheepishness to his tone I’d never heard before.

“No!” I insisted. “Not at all. Scholars have debated the Oedipal nature of Hamlet for centuries, actually. So, do you think that’s what he wants?”

“That’s why I’m asking.” He rolled his eyes. “He just seems really preoccupied with his mom’s sex life. I’ve never considered mine. In fact, I prefer to think of myself like Jesus.”

“Oh, big shock there.”

“Shut up.” He reached over and shoved me hard enough to knock me sideways a little. “I just mean, I prefer to believe that my mother never had sex. That I was an immaculate conception. And if she did, I certainly don’t want to think about that.” He sighed. “You’re smart…what do you think?”

We were in my room again, but we were sitting on the floor with distance between us, leaning against the bed and reading. He hadn’t mentioned anything about Monday night, and I was grateful that he was respecting my wishes.

But it was more difficult than I wanted to admit to focus on the book and not look over at him every ten seconds.

“I think that if he wanted to bang his mom, he would have chosen a woman like her. You’re smart, too, by the way. Do you think Ophelia and Gertrude are similar?” I was actually very happy that he was understanding the play so well. Hamlet was one of my favorite reads of all time and I’d never had an opportunity to have a real discussion about it with someone before.

And the fact that I was having it with Trevor Hix was just fucking wild.

“Not really,” he said. “Ophelia is so quiet and shy. And she gives in to everyone about everything. She lets her dad push her around, lets Hamlet do whatever he wants to her, even her brother just treats her like shit. And I don’t know if it’s because she likes it, or because she just doesn’t have the balls to stand up for herself.”

Okay, so this conversation wasn’t going how I’d thought it would, and as Trevor narrowed his gaze at me, I almost cursed out loud.

“Wow, I may have to start calling you Ophelia instead of Princess.” He dropped his book to the floor and held my gaze. “Do you like it?”

“I like aspects of it,” I whispered, my mouth suddenly dry as I realized what he was really asking me. Did I like being pushed around and told what to do? “We’re supposed to be working.” I reached out and picked his book up, shoving it back into his hand.

“Andy—”

“I’m not interested in a side-by-side comparison of my life to Hamlet,” I said firmly. “And we agreed not to talk about the other night, so unless you’re about to continue the conversation about Hamlet’s infatuation with his mother…keep reading.”

“I was just going to apologize,” he admitted. “I thought a lot about what you said and you’re right. I’m not being fair to you. And I’m sorry.”

“I forgive you,” I told him.

We stared at each other for a moment, and I think we were both remembering what had happened the last time those words had been uttered between us.

And I absolutely wanted to kiss him again. For just a second, I allowed myself to wish he’d try. It would be so easy.

Easier than this.

Just a slight movement from either of us and we could be crashed together, mouths and hands and bodies moving against each other. If one of us would just give that first inch…

“You have to stop looking at me like that,” Trevor whispered. “I’m not as strong as you are.”

“What even is this for you?” I asked him softly, my gaze dropping to his lips. “Why do you want anything from me at all?”

That was still the part I couldn’t figure out. I knew why I wanted him. But if he was just experimenting with men…why pick me? Granted, he didn’t hate me anymore, but it wasn’t like we were friends. We were just…existing in the same space.

“Is an inferiority complex a requirement of Catholicism or is that just an Andy thing?” he said, his tone teasing, but I didn’t get the joke.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“Wow.” He chuckled as he slid a little closer to me. “You just don’t give yourself any credit at all, do you?” His gaze raked over me before returning to meet mine. “Do you seriously not understand how incredibly sexy you are?”