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I can almost see Liam processing everything I just said on his face.

Though he’s almost always frowning, his face is incredibly expressive.

And what a face it is.

The past few days I’ve forced myself to think about him as someone I’m attracted to. Realizing how handsome Liam is has been only one of the results I’ve encountered, and the rest of the results of those little experiments can’t really be refuted, but this last kiss experiment is still necessary.

“I understand what you mean, but why did you say it like that?” he asks softly. “ Want me?”

I swallow hard as the nerves that were gripping me before I knocked on the door come back with a vengeance.

“Well,” I start out, and it’s a weak start for sure. “I just think you would have your choice of partners, and I’m this... mess.” I shout the last word and gesture at myself.

“Why are you a mess? How are you a mess?” he amends.

“I work for my friends,” I explain with an eye roll. “I have no home that’s truly mine, no family, I barely remember to eat lunch, and I honestly can’t remember how I survived before Milton moved here.”

Listing all my undesirable attributes isn’t a hardship. I have the list at the forefront of my thoughts most days.

“The only thing that sounds logical from everything you just said is the not remembering to eat part,” Liam counters.

“That’s not a healthy way to live, but I think your friends employ you because they respect and admire you.

That’s the case with me and Parker and William at least. I think the brownstone is your home and you certainly looked comfortable while we were there, and in any case I believe you could very well move if you wanted to, right? ”

“Right,” I whisper, reeling at how succinctly he dismantled my beliefs about myself. Except for the one thing I didn’t tell him of course. That can wait... a few years.

“In any case, you told me you see a therapist weekly, didn’t you? You’re working on improving yourself, and you care about your health enough to be in shape.” Now he’s the one gesturing to my body.

“I go to the gym to turn off my thoughts,” I mumble weakly.

“That still counts as self-care,” he points out.

“I guess.”

“And lastly, what I’m thinking right now is that the only reason you want me to kiss you again is because you pity me. ”

“What?” I demand. “That’s not what’s happening at all,” I stress.

“Just like what happened Monday night after the ball wasn’t a result of our interaction with Dirk or the pitch to Mrs. Blackwell,” he points out.

Damn he’s smart.

But he’s not going to distract me from the biggest issue here.

“And I’m not asking you to kiss me because I pity you.

If anything I’m asking you to take pity on me ,” I cry out.

“You’re this amazingly clever man who knows exactly who he is.

You’re brilliant and handsome and kind and a bloody good friend.

There isn’t anything about you to pity, Liam.

Well, maybe your taste in men, since.. . well, you know.”

“I do know,” he agrees. “I’ve matured and so have my tastes,” he defends, and I can’t say anything to that.

“Yeah, okay, but I still need to know if there’s this part of me I’ve been ignoring all my life.

Or maybe it’s just with you? How am I supposed to know?

I’ve never gotten hard because of a man before, but in the last few days I’ve seen plenty of naked men and believe me, there’s been a reaction each time.

Then I started thinking about you, and kissing you, and. .. more.”

I’m well aware I sound hysterical right now, and that’s probably not the way to go about this, but I can’t stop either way.

“I want you to kiss me because I want you to kiss me , Liam. That’s an insane fact and something I never thought I’d say. Which only confuses me more because, why now? The only way to get answers is for you to put me out of my misery and just?—”

I sigh in relief when he finally shuts me up. My mind goes hazy thanks to the tight grip his hands have on my shoulders, and then he moves his lips against mine. Just a little, just enough for me to need more.

And when he pulls back suddenly, I don’t let him get far.

“Not enough,” I growl, and I hook a hand on the back of his neck to pull him back to me. And then I’m the one melding our lips together, kneading his with barely-there bites. I lick his lower lip, and feel him tremble against me.

It’s all the evidence I need to know, but I still take my time, slowing the kiss down.

I can’t lie, I like the way Liam grips my arms like he’s scared of letting me go, so I stroke the soft skin of his nape with one hand and place the other on his shoulder so he can feel me right here.

When I open my eyes it’s to see his brilliant blue ones steady on mine.

No more hiding.

Liam

“I . . .”

That’s all Carter says, and it’s enough to have my heart racing like I just ran a marathon.

Just like the kiss, I take him in, enjoying his gaze on me for as long as he’ll let me. Just like the first time I saw him, his dark eyes threaten to pull me in and trap me inside, but this time I surrender.

I catalog every inch of his face so I’ll never forget this moment .

No matter what happens next, I don’t want to forget a single thing.

“I don’t know what to say,” he whispers.

“You need to process?” I suggest. He did use those exact words in his text the other night. I have to find some way to accept whatever conclusion he comes to, and so maybe I need a moment to process too.

“Yes, I do,” he says, and nods once. I see his Adam’s apple bob with a hard swallow.

“Then don’t say anything,” I whisper. “Process all you like and I’ll make you a coffee.”

“Tea,” he croaks distractedly, like his mind is somewhere else. “Earl Gray with a splash of milk if you have it.” He clears his throat forcibly and I nod, then let go of his arms, missing the feel of his skin instantly.

“I do have it,” I murmur. “Sit down on the couch.”

I nod toward the living room that’s only a few feet away, and though it takes him another moment, I feel bereft when his hands fall to his sides.

Then I need to move away, quickly, so I walk over to the kitchen and get the kettle from the cabinet above the stove.

An idea strikes me then, and without giving myself time to second guess it, I just ask without looking in his direction.

“So which emotion are you feeling the strongest right now?”

Why am I doing this again?

“If I had to choose, I’d say confusion.”

“And the second strongest?” I keep going for who the fuck knows what reason.

“Frustration, I guess,” he whispers. I’m thankful he’s so preoccupied by his thoughts, otherwise he’d surely have caught on to what I’m doing.

“And from one to five, how strong is the first?”

“A solid five,” he says drily.

“And the second?”

“A two.” He sounds so subdued.

“What would you rather be feeling right now?”

It takes him longer to answer then, and I turn to see him looking back at me with his chin resting on his hand.

“I’d like to be excited,” he confesses like it’s a bad thing, though I don’t know why. “Wait,” he says suddenly, and sits up. “You’re doing that test thing you created for your app,” he says louder.

I’m about to apologize, but he laughs. Long and loud, with his crinkled eyes closed. It doesn’t sound mean, but I’m still not sure if he’s laughing at me or not.

“Are you making fun of me?” I ask just to make sure. I’m not sure I’d mind it in this situation, not particularly. My actions are rather ridiculous, I know that.

“No,” Carter says, shaking his head but still chuckling. His simple answer would’ve been enough for me, but he explains further. “My delight for you had to come out one way or the other, and my body chose laughter,” he says, then he takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly.

When his eyes clash with mine, I can’t hold his stare for too long this time.

I watch my fingers twist together as I think of an appropriate response, but then I realize it doesn’t exist. The best I can come up with is to mumble the truth .

“You delight me too.”

“I think this might be the most romantic moment of my life,” he says, and my head snaps up to look at him.

“Really?”

“Yeah.” He nods once, his smile intact on his lips.

“I mean, the bar was low, Liam. I’ve had basically no romance in my life.

” I don’t think I mind that, in fact a flurry of excitement fills me at the thought of being the first person to give Carter some romance.

“And since I thought I was straight and went along with all those pesky rules like the man plans the date, opens doors, and all that, then I was in charge of bringing the romance into the equation, and I’ve never been good at it. ”

“I think you are,” I confess, and then I reel back when I digest what he said. “So you don’t believe you’re straight?” I ask, just to make sure.

The kettle whistles right then, and stops him from answering.

I take my time preparing his tea, not only because I want it to be perfectly brewed for him, but because it gives me a few precious minutes to come to terms with how everything might change after this conversation.

I don’t quite manage it, but I am calmer when I carry an empty cup and the teapot to the coffee table in the living room.

I set it all down in front of Carter, and then I don’t have a clue what to do. He does, and looks up at me with a softer smile.

“Given how much I enjoyed you kissing me, I believe me not being straight is the only logical conclusion.”

“That sounds correct,” I mumble.

“Come on, sit here with me,” he says and pats the cushion next to him .

I do as he asks and turn to look straight at him. He leans back until he’s almost horizontal, and sighs. My couch is one of those very wide ones, because I like how comfortable they are and I like sitting cross legged on them when I want to be more upright.

Carter doesn’t seem to mind one bit, which is a good thing. I want him to be comfortable.

“So I suppose I’m bisexual.”

“That’s one of the options, yes,” I add, for no apparent reason.

“What other options are there?” he asks.

“Oh, so many. You could be gay and just never have known it because you repressed it so deeply... you can be pansexual, you can be asexual, you can be aromantic.”

“Well, I don’t know about any of those, except the asexual.

I very much enjoy sex, with myself and other people.

” I snort at that, and though I remember his mention of seeing other men naked, which I suspect was him alluding to watching porn, I keep my mouth shut.

“And just now I enjoyed our romantic moment, and I’d like to have more of those, so I don’t think I’m aromantic. ”

“I’m demisexual,” I confess.

“I don’t know what that means,” he says softly, and when I look into his eyes I see an apology in them.

“It’s okay, I didn’t expect you to. It’s on the asexual spectrum. It means I only develop sexual attraction to a man once I’ve formed an emotional connection with them, and I only mention men because I’m gay and demisexual.”

“That’s easy enough to grasp,” he says and smiles at me again. “All right then. I did feel... oh bollocks, I’m just going to be blunt, okay? If I make you uncomfortable with anything I say?—”

“You won’t,” I assure him.

“But if I do?—”

“Then I’ll let you know,” I assure him.

“Good. So, I was aroused by watching men fuck on a screen, and since Monday I’ve noticed I feel attraction to other men.”

I grumble at that, not happy about it.

“Don’t worry,” he assures me and pats my arm. “I noticed handsome men, but I didn’t want to kiss any of them. It’s not like I want to kiss every woman I find attractive either.”

“So it’s the same for both women and men?” I ask.

“I think so, yes. I thought so too before coming here, but now I’m sure after that kiss.”

“It was good?” I ask, feeling beyond insecure—that’s not great.

“It was good,” Carter assures me and nods.

Then he reaches up and cups my cheek. I hold my breath as he inches closer, slowly, slowly, until his lips are right there, plump and soft. The memory of how they feel and taste is too much to resist, so I close the gap and kiss him.

It’s still a soft kiss, though like last time, I go weak in the knees when his tongue slides slowly over my lower lip. It’s a good thing I’m sitting down.

Carter leans back but stays close enough that I still feel like we’re in our own little world.

“Really good,” he whispers, and I finally relax. That bout of awful insecurity forgotten, I grab his hand from my cheek and bring it to my mouth, kiss the back, and then keep his hand clasped in mine as I lie down.

He follows me and we just stare at each other for a few minutes. It’s nice—the silence, the company, the wonder I feel inside me.

“So I guess I’m bi,” Carter whispers, though there’s more certainty in it this time. “I don’t know if I have a right to call myself that, though,” he adds, and something in my chest warms considerably at his words.

“You do, of course,” I tell him, feeling defensive on his behalf. “You have a right to take on whatever label you feel comfortable with.”

“I guess that’s true,” he murmurs, and once more we’re silent, until his stomach growls loudly enough for me to hear it.

“You forgot to eat,” I conclude.

“I did,” he admits, and winces.

“Want to go out for an early dinner?” It’s only five thirty, but I bet there are a lot of places open.

“Why don’t we go to that place we went to last time?

” I tense at the reminder, but Carter squeezes my hand and brings me back to the present.

“You told me you like to go there with your family, so we won’t go if you’d like to keep it as a restaurant you only go to with them, but I don’t want you to stop doing anything you enjoy because of that grave robber. ”

I snicker at that nickname he almost always calls Dirk.

“We can go,” I assure him. “You’re right, and I don’t want to keep it as a place just for family.” I don’t do that with any restaurant, but it was still nice for him to be considerate, so I leave it at that.

My reward is one of his gorgeous smiles, and when we walk out of my apartment hand in hand, I know we still have much to talk about, but I don’t think I’ve ever felt this content, so I leave the questions for later.