Page 15 of The Good Student (Straight No More #2)

ASHER CAREFULLY LIFTS himself off me, both of us wincing slightly at the separation. I barely have the presence of mind to hold the condom as Asher moves away. He disposes of it in the trash can beside the bed, then falls back onto the mattress beside me, both of us breathing heavily.

For a long moment, neither of us speaks. The only sound in the room is our gradually slowing breaths, the distant murmur of voices from elsewhere in the house.

"Well," Asher finally says, turning his head to look at me. "That was..."

"Yeah," I agree, unable to find words adequate to describe what just happened between us.

He laughs, the sound warm and genuine. "Eloquent, Philip."

I smile, surprising myself with how comfortable I feel in this moment. Naked, post-orgasmic, lying beside another man. It should feel foreign. Instead, it feels... right.

"I've never done that before," I say, stating the obvious.

"I gathered." Asher’s tone is teasing but gentle. "Was it what you expected?"

I consider the question. "I didn't know what to expect," I admit. "But it was... good. Really good."

"Just good?" He raises an eyebrow, mock offended.

"Mind-blowing," I correct, grinning. "Earth-shattering. Life-changing."

"That's more like it," Asher says, satisfied. Then, more seriously, "Was it, though? Life-changing?"

The question cuts through the post-coital haze, forcing me to confront the implications of what we've just done. Has my life changed? Am I different now than I was this morning?

"Yes," I say finally, the admission feeling like both a surrender and a victory. "I think it was."

His expression softens. "In what way?"

I stare at the ceiling, gathering my thoughts. "I've spent my whole life with this... image of who I am. Straight. Conventional. Following a certain path." I turn to look at Asher. "But that image was incomplete. There was this whole part of myself I wasn't seeing, or was choosing not to see."

"And now?" he prompts.

"Now I see it," I say simply. "And I can't un-see it. Don't want to un-see it."

Asher's hand finds mine on the bed, our fingers intertwining. The simple gesture feels more intimate somehow than what we just did.

"For what it's worth," Asher says, "I like what I see."

The words warm me from the inside out. "Even though I was an ass to you for years?"

Asher laughs. "Especially because you were an ass to me for years. That passion, that fire—it's what drew me to you in the first place."

The memory of the party comes crashing back. "Is that why you pursued me? Because you've had this... thing for me?"

"Partly," Asher admits. "But also because you looked so damn good in those jeans, and I'd had just enough to drink to be brave."

I smile at the memory, at how annoyed I'd been at his attention, at how quickly that annoyance had transformed into something else entirely. "I thought you were hitting on Monica."

"Monica?" He looks genuinely confused for a moment, then understanding dawns. "Your friend's girlfriend? God, no. I was definitely looking at you."

"I see that now. I just... I had this idea of you as this player who hit on anything that moved."

Asher's expression shifts, something like hurt flashing in his eyes before he masks it. "Is that what people say about me?"

I regret my words immediately. "I'm sorry. That was unfair."

"But it's what you thought," he presses, not letting me off the hook.

"Yes," I admit. "It's what I thought. But I was wrong."

Asher is quiet for a moment, then asks, "What do you think now?"

I consider the question, looking at Asher—really looking at him. Not the caricature I'd built in my mind, but the actual person lying beside me. The person who's been patient with me, who's guided me through this exploration, who's shown me a part of myself I never knew existed.

"I think you're more complex than I gave you credit for," I say honestly. "More thoughtful. More... real."

Asher's smile returns, small but genuine. "I'll take that as a compliment."

"It is one," I assure him. Then, after a moment's hesitation, "What happens now?"

It's the question that's been hovering at the edges of my mind since we started this, but I've been too caught up in the moment, in the discovery, to fully confront it. Now, lying here in the aftermath, it can't be avoided any longer.

Asher props himself up on one elbow, looking down at me. "What do you want to happen?"

The question bounces back to me, forcing me to examine my own desires. What do I want? A one-time experiment? A casual arrangement? Something more?

"I don't know," I admit. "I'm still... processing."

He nods. "That's fair. There's no rush."

"But… what do you want?" I ask.

Asher's gaze is steady, unflinching. "I want to see where this goes," he says simply. "I've wanted you for a long time, Philip. Now that I've had a taste, I'm not eager to give it up."

The admission makes something warm unfurl in my chest. "I think I'd like that too," I say, surprising myself with how true the words feel. "To see where this goes."

Asher's smile is like the sun breaking through clouds. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," I confirm, returning the smile. "But maybe we take it slow? I'm still... adjusting to all this."

"We can go as slow as you need," Asher agrees, his hand squeezing mine. "No pressure."

The assurance settles something in me, a fear I hadn't fully acknowledged until it was addressed. "Thank you."

We lie there in comfortable silence for a while, both lost in our own thoughts. My mind drifts back to the party, to the moment that started all of this.

"You know," I say, breaking the silence, "when you said you'd have me by the end of the night at that party, I thought you were insane."

Asher laughs, the sound vibrating through the mattress. "I was being optimistic."

"Cocky is more like it," I correct.

"Maybe," Asher concedes. "But I was right, wasn't I?"

I can't argue with that. "You were right. Though it took a little longer than one night."

"Some things are worth waiting for."

The simple statement, laden with meaning, makes my heart skip a beat. I turn to face Asher fully, taking in the sight of him—disheveled hair, flushed cheeks, eyes bright with something that looks a lot like happiness.

"I'm glad I came here tonight," I say, the words feeling inadequate for the enormity of what's happened, what's changing inside me.

"Me too," Asher replies. "Very glad you beat me to finding someone else .'"

The reference makes me laugh. "Jealousy is a powerful motivator."

"I'll keep that in mind," he says, his tone teasing. Then, he adds, "Stay? For a while, at least?"

"I'd like that," I say, the decision feeling right in a way few things have lately.

Asher's smile widens, genuine pleasure lighting his features. "Good."

As we settle back against the pillows, my mind drifts to the paper I still haven't written, the finals I should be studying for. But for once, those concerns feel distant, less important than the man lying beside me, than the discoveries I've made about myself.

Tomorrow, I'll face the world with this new understanding of myself, this expanded sense of who I am and what I want. It won't be easy—nothing worth having ever is—but I won't be facing it alone.

For now, though, I'm content to lie here, to bask in the afterglow of connection, of discovery, of possibility. The future, with all its complications and questions, can wait until morning.