Page 26 of The Arrangement (Executive Suite Secrets #3)

LIAM ROSE

Kissed him.

I kissed him.

I kissed a fucking guy.

Those words kept repeating in my brain. My lips tingled in memory of his touch, and the area around my mouth burned slightly from the brush of his beard. Even my dick was in on the act, perking up as if begging to somehow get in on this sudden action.

I’d leaped off the sofa and was pacing in a tiny area of the living room, trying to get my brain out of the loop it was stuck in. It didn’t help that every time I looked over at Rome, the man was lounging with the biggest fucking smug smile on his lips while not saying a damn word.

“Don’t say it!” I shouted, pointing my finger at him.

“What? I haven’t said anything.”

“Yeah, but you’re going to.”

His smirk returned. “Say what?”

“You know! But I’m not.”

Rome wiggled on the couch as if he were getting comfortable and folded his hands together on his stomach. “Go ahead. Say it. Get the nonsense out of your system.”

It was as if he’d summoned the denial with his teasing, shutting down my wonderful logical brain. “I’m not gay,” I hissed at him before I could stop the words.

His grin didn’t dim one tiny bit. His eye lit up as if he’d expected those words, even as I hated myself for saying them. Those were the words that my mom had beaten into my brain for too many years, along with the same sense of terror.

“True. You could be bisexual. You could be demisexual,” Rome suggested in a pleasant and calm tone, which might have made me hate him a smidge. How could he remain so calm when my world was changing in the blink of an eye?

He lifted a hand and scrubbed it across his chin and lips. “I don’t think I’d believe it if you told me you mistook me for a woman. The beard and flat chest are common with men, though there are some interesting exceptions out there. Plus, since we were kids, I think I’ve told you I’m a dude.”

“Don’t be an asshole. This wasn’t supposed to happen.”

Rome huffed out a soft laugh and sat up, leaning his forearms on his knees. “No? What did you expect to happen?”

“I don’t know!” I cried. That wasn’t true. I squeezed my eyes shut because I couldn’t look at him. “I thought it would clear up my memory of that day. It was supposed to be okay. Weird. But not a big deal. Afterward, we’d move on and maybe laugh about it years later, because I wouldn’t feel…”

This had been a test, plain and simple. And I’d failed.

Or passed?

Fuck! I didn’t even know anymore.

There was a long pause where the only sound in the room was my heavy breathing and the background music for the game we’d just finished playing.

Everything felt so normal, but it couldn’t be.

One of the big things I thought I knew about myself was wrong.

Were there other things that I was wrong about? What was I supposed to do?

“Liam.” Rome’s sharp voice cut through the din in my head and snapped my eyes open to him. He was standing with a scowl on his face. “Stop it. Now.”

“But—”

“Change has always made you panic. Right now, you’re worrying about things you don’t need to worry about.”

“Yes, it will. Everything is going to change!”

“Will this wipe out all your knowledge about dinosaurs?”

“No, but?—”

“Will they make you turn in your PhD because liking boys means you can’t have earned that degree?”

“No.”

“Will it make you less of a great cook? Will you forget how to make those fettuccine noodles now that you might be bi? And I will tell you, gay or not, it won’t save you in Mario Kart . You’re still going to need to cheat to beat me in that game.”

“I didn’t cheat! It’s a power-up.” My voice trembled as I argued, shaking half from laughter and half from tears that were fighting to escape.

“Whatever.” He walked around the coffee table and pulled me into a hard hug.

The tears broke free as soon as my cheek touched his shoulder.

I wasn’t even sure why I was crying. Fear?

Relief that maybe there were deeper reasons for why my marriage didn’t work out?

Frustration for the possible lost years? It was probably all the above and more.

One of Rome’s hands tightened on the back of my head while the other rubbed my shoulders. “Nothing has to change between us. We’re friends first, okay? I’m here for you. This doesn’t have to be a hard thing.”

I nodded, so fucking grateful that he was there for me. No judgments. No calling me stupid or gross or anything else. Just accepting. Patient and supportive.

“You wanna sit? I’ll get you something to drink.”

With Rome’s help, I shuffled over to the couch and dropped onto the cushions with a bounce.

He snatched up my wineglass and disappeared down the hall.

After my mini panic attack, I was feeling better.

It was as if I’d purged a lot of my frantic energy so I could think.

Part of me wanted to tell him to bring me some water, while the other part wanted him to bring the rest of that bottle of wine.

Rome was smarter than I gave him credit for. He refilled my wineglass halfway and filled a second glass with iced water. He set both on the table and joined me on the couch.

I drained the glass of wine in one go and took a sip of the water before setting it down.

“Calmer?” he inquired. All his earlier smugness was gone, so that now I saw only genuine concern.

“Yeah.” I nodded and flopped against the cushion. “I…I don’t know what to think. There are so many thoughts running through my head, but I can’t grab on to any of them.”

“I guess one easy thing is that no one knows what happened here tonight. Just because you’re realizing that you might be attracted to a guy, it doesn’t mean that you gotta walk out of here tomorrow wrapped in a rainbow flag.”

A snort escaped me at the image, but he had a point. This was our secret. I had time to figure out questions about my sexuality and who had a right to know about that.

“However,” Rome cut in, “if it turns out you’re gay or bi or what have you, I don’t recommend living your life in the closet about it. Not saying that you march in the next Pride parade or wear rainbows every day, but also don’t deny it. You’ll be happier if you embrace it.”

“Whatever it happens to be,” I muttered under my breath.

“Exactly.”

Was I gay? I’d been married to a woman for four years. Not that something like that counted as a clear-cut reason to be straight or bi. Had I loved her? I thought so. Had I been attracted to her? Yes. I knew I was attracted to women in general.

But guys…

“Can I ask, did this come completely out of the blue for you?” Rome inquired softly.

“I…don’t know. I mean, I can look at a guy and recognize that he’s attractive. Like your friends are all obscenely hot. There should be laws against that many attractive people being in one spot.”

Rome choked on a laugh, but it stopped quickly. “Okay, but only Pierce and Simon are single. Plus, you’re not allowed to look at them anymore.”

I rolled my eyes at him. “Just because I think they’re attractive, I didn’t immediately think, ‘Damn, I need a piece of that.’ They’re simply hot guys.”

“Do you usually think that each time you see an attractive woman?”

“No. Personality plays heavily into whether I’m interested in a person. Like a smart person becomes hotter the more I talk to them because of the joy I get out of having an intelligent, engaging conversation. People who challenge me intellectually are attractive.”

“You sound demisexual to me, but I’m no expert.”

“What about you? You said you’re pan. How the fuck did you figure that out?”

Rome shook with silent laughter. “Pretty much like that.”

“Huh?”

“Fucking.”

I groaned. “Slut.”

“Hey! We don’t slut-shame!” Rome shouted, half-joking and half-serious.

“Sorry.”

“So, in middle school, I figured out I liked girls. That was easy. Everyone assumes boys like girls. After I kissed you, I learned that I also liked boys. For me, it’s pretty even.

I’m attracted to both roughly the same. It’s not like that for all bisexuals.

Some can be seventy percent girl attraction and thirty percent boy attraction, but you’re still bi.

Anyway”—he waved a hand in the air as if trying to brush aside his digression—“after I finished college, I dated someone who identified as nonbinary. What they wore often changed according to how they felt that day. That relationship made me realize I was defining my sexuality too narrowly, so I revised it to pansexual. I’m attracted to beautiful, thoughtful, fun, kind, smart people. ”

My stomach churned as I asked, “And your parents?”

Rome shrugged. “Don’t care. Wear a condom. Be safe. Watch your back. Don’t get married without a prenup. The usual shit. My mom is super supportive and asks a lot of questions out of curiosity. My dad is supportive, but you can see that he doesn’t understand it.”

“What about Sydney? You always seemed really close to your cousin.”

“Only because she was constantly around. But she’s fine with it all.”

“Is she…”

“Oh my God, she’s so fucking vanilla. Straight.

Married to a very straight white man. Thankfully, he’s a liberal, or she would have kicked his ass to the curb long ago.

” Rome sank a little lower on the sofa, his brow furrowing in thought.

“She presents this totally normal, average, straight exterior to the world. I wonder if Sydney and her husband are super kinky in bed. Like the whole sex dungeon thing with swings, floggers, bird masks, and leather assless chaps.” He stopped and shuddered hard. “ Ew . Why did my brain go there?”

“Because you’re demented.” I chuckled. My head dropped to the side so that I was staring at him. These cute wrinkles formed at the corners of his eyes whenever he smiled. And now that we’d kissed, I had the craziest desire to touch those lines with my fingertip. “Bird masks?”

Rome threw up his hands and huffed. “I don’t know. BDSM, tying people up, and all the super-kinky stuff really isn’t my scene.”

“What’s your scene?” I whispered.

My oldest and newest friend turned his head toward me and instantly captured my mouth in a soft kiss that heated on the second pass.

This time, I didn’t hesitate. I jumped in, losing myself in the caress of his tongue, the pressure of his lips as they moved against mine.

Even the bristle of his beard was interesting, adding its own unexpected allure to the mix that got my heart racing.

Sure, the act of kissing was the same, but there was also something different about it.

Rome was more forceful this time. For a moment, I fought him for control, which was fun, but it wasn’t until I relinquished that control, let him take the wheel, that a moan slipped from me.

The rush of pleasure was a heady, intoxicating thing.

I didn’t want it to end. Fuck, I wanted more.

Rome pulled away, ending the kiss. My eyes opened slowly as my brain proved sluggish coming back online. Rome lifted his hand to my cheek and rubbed his thumb along the edge of my bottom lip, sending all these tingles through my body.

“My scene? Having fun and making my partner feel good.”

“Yeah.” I exhaled. I could totally believe that about him.

He suddenly sat up, returning his hand to his lap. “I’ve got an idea.”

“That’s scary,” I muttered out of habit.

“Let’s have a sleepover.”

“What?” That was like being splashed with cold water when I was still floating in a warm sea of bliss.

I jerked upright, my brain shooting into panic mode.

What would happen if Rome and I slept together?

Did he mean for us to have sex? The second kiss was a lot better than the first, and I had a feeling that they were going to progress in that direction quickly, but did I want that? Was I ready for sex?

“Hey!” Rome snapped. “Get your mind out of the gutter!” He reached over and smacked me in the center of my forehead, jolting me from my dark and somewhat filthy thoughts.

“I meant sleepover like we did as kids. Sleeping bags, junk food, and video games all night. Not falling asleep until dawn. No sex. No touching. At most, maybe some more kissing.”

“Oh.” I stared wide-eyed at him. Wow . I had not been expecting him to suggest that.

“I thought we could talk more. It would be easier if I was on hand to answer any more questions and stop you from panicking. Plus, you have a giant video-game collection, and we haven’t made a dent in it yet.”

Stopping me from falling into another swirling panic would be a good thing. There would be things I’d want to ask him later too. Right now, everything was overwhelming. I hadn’t even dealt with the brainwashing of self-hate I’d gone through with my mother.

“Only problem is that I don’t own any sleeping bags,” I said.

Rome nodded. “That’s fine. You can sleep in your bed, and I’ll crash on the couch.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, it’ll be fine. You got any more junk food?”

I snorted. “I’ve got a loaf of french bread in the pantry. We can make french-bread pizza with the leftover sauce and toppings.”

We killed the rest of the wine. Opened a second bottle and killed that. Ate french-bread pizza and the last of the mint chocolate chip ice cream. Played a ridiculous amount of video games.

And in the end, we dragged the mattress off my bed and into the living room when we were finally ready to pass out while talking about life.

Hands down, it was one of the best nights of my life. Also, one of the scariest.