Page 19

Eighteen

Jensen

A fter discarding the condom in the garbage, Isaac and I take another quick shower together. Every time he presses his head to my shoulder, I wrap my arms around him and hold him close. He does this a lot. It’s almost as if he’s starved for affection. When was the last time someone held him and made him feel comforted?

He gives me a spare toothbrush to use, and we both get ready for bed together. When I eventually emerge from the bathroom, he’s already under the covers in his bed, and I look at the opposite side where it sits empty as if it’s waiting for me.

Isaac grins softly from the pillow, and I crawl in behind him, giving him my arm to lie on. His damp hair keeps falling in his face, so I tenderly brush it back.

“This is nice,” he whispers.

I nod with my lips against his head. It is nice. And he seems so at ease, which is what I want.

If only my head could feel that relaxed, but there is some mental block for me that never allows me to fully release the tension in moments like this.

“What are you doing next weekend?” he asks.

“Spending it with you,” I reply.

“Good,” he replies sleepily. Then, adds, “How would you feel about meeting my brother and his girlfriend? I told them I’d have dinner with them Friday, and I asked if I could bring you.”

My body tenses, but I try not to let it show. “As your boyfriend?”

He picks up his head and stares at me with innocence. “They won’t tell anyone. They’re safe. They obviously know about me.”

Immediately, I’m filled with discomfort. Inside, warning signs are going off, and cruel, old mantras fill my mind, but I push them away.

I want to tell Isaac that I can’t be anyone’s boyfriend, at least not in public. But everything is a contradiction, and I know it. I can’t have Isaac, but I want him. I shouldn’t think about a future with him, but I do. I’m not supposed to be gay, but I am.

“You don’t have to,” he says with a sense of worry in his tone. “I can tell you don’t want to.”

“I do want to,” I reply, squeezing his shoulder. “It’s just…hard for me.”

“I understand. It’s hard for me too.”

Tell him. Tell him everything. Tell him about Eternal Harmony.

But what good would that do? Make him think I’m broken? Make him pity me or worry that I’ll suddenly bolt from his life because of some stupid brainwashing I went through as a kid? That’s my trauma, not his.

“Let me think about it, okay?” I say, trying to ease his nerves.

“Okay,” he replies.

When he rests his head back on my arm and stares into my eyes, I consider telling him again. He’d be sympathetic. I know he would, but it’s all so complicated. Even to me, it’s complicated. My feelings for that program, the pastor, and the people in it are still a blur. It’s not black and white.

I’m angry and resentful, but there are good memories there too. Enough to make me less angry.

Like I said, complicated.

When I wake up, the windows are still dark, but the bed next to me is empty. I get up and go in search of Isaac.

Padding silently through his house, I follow the sound of a soft melody and find him on the couch, strumming quietly on his guitar.

“What are you doing?” I ask as I run my fingers through his hair. He looks up from the acoustic guitar on his lap to smile sleepily at me.

“Did I wake you? I couldn’t sleep and I had a song in my head.”

There’s a pad of paper on the table in front of him with scribbled notes and lyrics.

“Not at all,” I whisper. “Can I hear it?”

Looking almost bashful, he replies, “Sure.”

I recline on the couch next to him, my feet touching his thigh and my head on the pillow as he starts to strum.

“It’s messy, so don’t judge,” he says.

“I would never judge you.”

In the dark living room, my eyes slowly adjust to the sight of him playing. It’s a gentle melody that somehow just sounds like him.

When he starts singing, it’s just above a whisper. Delicate lyrics over a sweet melody. And the longer I listen, the more I realize something that takes my breath away…

Out of the crowd and into my life

Turning the noise into silence

Elevator indiscretion and late-night calls

Your hard-pressed, soft kiss

My lips were waiting for you all along

This song is about us .

Freezing on the couch, I stare at him as tears begin to brim in my eyes. And just like that, it’s the most beautiful song I’ve ever heard.

You told me this was terrifying

But I was never one for heights

Now, I think I’m fallin’

Fallin’ like flyin’

Flyin’ home to you

The chorus plays again and I realize in that serene moment that I’m falling in love with him. It’s still so early, but I’ve never felt this way before.

What started as an indulgence turned into an addiction, but now feels like it was love all along. I never intended for it to happen like this, but it has.

And it scares me. It scares me not only for the sake of my own heart but for Isaac’s, too.

What if I can’t be the man he needs? Coming out was never in the cards for me, and he deserves more than a lover in secret. He deserves vows. He deserves everything.

When the song ends, he waits for my reaction, but I can hardly move. What could I possibly say to properly convey how amazing that was?

“Isaac,” I whisper.

He turns his head to face me, so I sit up on the couch to be closer to him.

“It needs work,” he mumbles quietly.

“No, it doesn’t. It’s perfect.”

“You think so?” he asks. “To be totally honest with you, I’ve been struggling with a bit of writer’s block lately. I haven’t written a single lyric in months until…I met you.”

I can’t bear another second without his touch, so I grab him by the back of the neck and drag him toward me for a kiss. The guitar falls loudly to the floor as I climb onto his lap. Straddling his hips, I fuse my mouth to his. Our tongues glide against one another’s as he groans against my lips.

With my ass in his hands, I grind against him. We are only in our boxer briefs, and I feel him getting hard against me.

Before it can get too heated, I pull away and hold him by the back of the head.

“I wrote that about you,” he mumbles, making me smile.

“I love it.”

“I want to record it and put it on the EP.”

“Isaac,” I whisper. The idea that some part of me will be forever ingrained in his music feels too daunting and intense to wrap my head around. What if I fail him? What if I can’t be what he wants me to be? I don’t want to be some ex-lover hidden within the tracks of his music.

I will never let him down.

That voice suddenly echoes louder than all the rest. Louder than my subconscious, louder than the mantras and the brainwashing. It screams with confidence.

No matter what happens, I will never, ever let him down.

And for now, that’s enough. We can face whatever life brings if I can hold true to that. I want him, and I never want him to be hurt, so nothing else matters.

“Thank you,” I whisper, pulling back to look into his eyes.

“Thank you,” he replies.

“What did I do?”

The corner of his mouth lifts in a smirk. “You were my muse.”

Running my fingers through his hair at the nape of his neck, the weight of these emotions hits me like bricks on my chest. I am falling for this man, and I think he is falling for me, and we have the whole world stacked against us.

I want to scream from the rooftops how I feel about him. I want to love him without guilt or shame in my heart. I want to love him out loud.

Instead of speaking promises we can’t keep, I lean in and kiss him again. Against his lips, I mumble, “That was the best song I have ever heard.”

“I’m glad you like it.”

After kissing for a few more minutes, he grabs tightly to my ass and murmurs, “Can we go back to bed and get rid of these boxers?”

With that, I climb off his lap and stand. The moment Isaac is on his feet, I throw him over my shoulder and carry him to the bedroom. He howls with laughter while screaming my name.

I can honestly say I’ve never been so happy in all my life.

And never filled with so much dread.