Page 21

Chapter Twenty-One

Andrew

At first, I think extreme breathlessness has forced me over the edge into a hallucination.

Because, somehow, the nerve receptors on my lips are sending signals to my brain that Justin’s lips are touching mine. His lips are impossibly soft, barely brushing against my mouth in a way that makes my whole body go weak.

He pulls away, and I can’t tear my eyes from his lips. Were they really just pressed against mine? My breath comes in short gasps that now have nothing to do with my lack of fitness.

“Sorry,” those lips say, and I rip my gaze away from them.

Justin’s forehead is creased as his eyes capture mine.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have done that without asking.”

Asking? Did that mean Justin didn’t just lose his balance, his lips colliding with mine accidentally?

Was there actual intent in that kiss?

Justin intentionally kissed me??

He’s interested in guys???

He’s interested in me????

There’s a lot for me to process right now, but my body’s not in the mood to wait for my mind to catch up.

Instead, it acts of its own accord because, suddenly, I’ve closed the distance between us to press my mouth back against his.

His mouth is warm under mine and his lips are impossibly soft, his stubble scraping deliciously as he deepens the kiss.

And now I’m kissing Justin Morris. For real.

Justin’s tongue slides against mine. He tastes faintly of the coffee from his dessert, but mostly, he tastes exactly how Justin should taste—sweet, real, and devastating.

Is this actually happening? Or have I slid into some alternative reality? A reality where Justin’s hand has come up to palm the side of my face, his touch gentle.

“Drew.” He groans my name, bringing me back to reality with a thud. Because he thinks I’m Drew. He’s kissing Drew, not Andrew.

I wrench myself away from him.

Oh my god.

It’s the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life. My body stages a full protest like every cell is filing individual complaints with management about this terrible decision.

Because honestly? Justin Morris looking at me with swollen lips, his hair disheveled, pupils dilated…

I stagger to my feet.

“I’ve got to go.”

The words come out strangled, barely recognizable as my own voice.

Justin stares at me with those beautiful ocean-colored eyes, but I’m already moving, fumbling for his doorknob, my hands shaking so badly it takes three attempts to open it.

I practically fall through the doorway, slamming the door shut behind me before staggering down the hallway to my apartment on shaky legs, my heart threatening to pound out of my chest.

Inside my apartment, my generic IT-guy decor mocks me. The IKEA furniture, the programming manuals, the Star Wars poster—everything designed to maintain my cover story where I’m Drew Smith, help desk technician.

A guy that Justin Morris just kissed.

Oh my fucking god.

Justin likes guys?

The thought keeps hitting me in waves, each one threatening to drown me. The golden-boy quarterback, the guy who tormented me for being gay, just kissed me like his life depended on it.

I press my fingers to my lips, which are still tingling from his kiss. The memory of his lips, the way he touched my face, the way he groaned my name—no, not my name, Drew’s name—sends another wave of dizziness through me.

How long has he known he’s attracted to men? Did he know that about himself in high school? The question explodes in my mind, forcing me to reexamine every memory through this new lens.

Had he participated in my torment because he was terrified of being found out himself? Was that why he sometimes seemed conflicted, why he occasionally showed those confusing flashes of kindness?

The Justin I’ve gotten to know over these past months suddenly seems even more real. Like maybe this is who he always was underneath, who he could have been if he hadn’t been trapped in his own closet.

I stumble to my couch, collapsing as my eyes catch on my laptop sitting innocently on the coffee table. The computer I spent so much time hunched over while I devised my plan to get revenge on Justin.

The sight of it makes my stomach churn.

What can I do about my revenge plan now?

My phone buzzes in my pocket. It’s a message from Justin.

I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable. Can we talk?

I stare at the message until the screen dims, then goes dark. The Justin who kissed me tonight trusts Drew .

Not Andrew, the guy he bullied in high school. Not Andrew, who’s been plotting revenge against him.

I wanted him to like me.

I never imagined he could want me.

What the hell am I going to do?

Especially now because I want him back. I want him so badly it physically hurt to leave him.

I let my head fall against the couch, closing my eyes against the sudden burning sensation.

What started as a simple revenge plan has evolved into something I never could have anticipated. Because I can’t deny that I’ve developed feelings for Justin Morris. And now I know he has feelings for me too.

Or rather, he has feelings for Drew.

I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep pretending to be someone I’m not while falling deeper for who Justin really is. But I also can’t tell him the truth without destroying whatever this thing between us might have been.

My eyes flutter open, and I stare again at my laptop, which contains all the code I’d written to cause Justin minor embarrassment. How petty it now seems.

Because revenge won’t fix what happened to me in high school.

And it definitely won’t fix the mess I’ve created now.