Page 25 of Win You Over

“Harder,” he rasps, and I increase the pressure of both my teeth and my hand.

Remington bucks his hips, his breath catching on the exhale as a hot splash of semen hits my hand.

When he pulls back and opens his eyes, he smiles, but his smile soon turns into a full-blown chuckle.

“Oh shit. My sister is going to kill us.”

“Why are you bringing up your sister while both our cocks are still out?”

“You’ll see,” he laughs harder, groaning as he rolls onto his stomach and burrowing back into the pillows.

I lie on my back, watching the ceiling, my hand curled into his while I wait for my heart to steady and my body to cool.

Then, deciding I need to shower, I pick up my phone and toiletries and head for the bathroom.

Closing the door behind me, I study myself in the mirror.

I look wrecked…and happy, a smile brightening my features.

There’s this buzz of electricity running through me and this distant feeling of ‘what the fuck?’ circling my chest.

Picking up my phone, I type out a message to Theo.

Me : You said to see where things went. Well, they went somewhere.

Theo : I’m going to need more than that. Things are pretty dull around here. Let me live vicariously through you.

I snort a laugh at my best friend.

Me : Remington and I…we kissed. And other stuff.

Theo : Other stuff? What does one have to do to pry the details out of you?

Me : Can you not be nosy right now? Just stuff.

Dots appear on the screen as I wait for his reply.

Theo : Okay. Got it. And you’re freaking out about it?

I think about his question. Searching myself for every emotion I’m feeling right now. Nothing remotely like confusion or anxiety or fear exists in my body.

Me : No. Should I be?

I know realising your sexuality isn’t easy for everyone, but if anything, I’m more content in myself now that I know I’m attracted to guys. There’s a certain lightness that comes with understanding this part of me.

Theo : No. You should feel whatever it is you feel.

Me : I’m happy. Excited even. But I don’t know if I’m gay or bi or something else.

I think back to the large flag above Remington’s bed, the one with the yellow, pink and blue stripes on it. I’d googled it and found out what it means. Could I be pansexual like Remington?

Theo : You don’t have to label yourself now or ever really, if you don’t want to.

Me : I don’t want to. Not yet anyway.

Theo : That’s perfectly fine. I love you, man.

My heart warms. I love him too. He’s been my best friend for as long as I can remember. Until a certain blond scaled my walls and forced his way into my life.

I’m about to put my phone down when another message pops up.

Theo: One other thing. Finn came into the coffee shop today.

Me: Okay? And you’re telling me because?

Theo: Because the last time he came in here, he told me the coffee was shit and he’d never be back and then today he comes in, orders ‘shit coffee’ and then asks about you.

Me : What about me?

A wave of uneasiness twists my stomach. I hate Finn being around Theo when I’m not there to protect him. Not that Theo needs my protection, but I still worry.

Theo : If I knew you were pretending to date Remington. If I thought you had actual feelings for him. Where you grew up. Where your mom lived. I told him to fuck off.

That wave turns nasty, crashing down around me. Finn digging into my life feels…suspicious.

Me: I don’t know what his deal is.

Theo: Me either.

Me: Just don’t start an argument with him if you see him again, okay? I don’t trust him not to lash out.

Theo: I’ll be fine. And hopefully, I’ll never see him again.

Nadine is going to kill us. I rub a hand over the purple marks on my neck as I finish drying my hair. Remington is taking his turn in the shower, and I am dressed and ready for another day in paradise.

My phone ringing takes my attention away from the marks I have no chance of hiding from Remington’s family.

My mum’s face appears on the screen when I answer the call. She doesn’t usually video call unless my sisters want to see me.

“Hello my long-lost son,” she jokes. A twinge of guilt hits me. I haven’t been a very attentive son or brother lately.

I wave at the screen. “Hi Mum.” It took about a month after my dad died, once we’d had his funeral and packed away a lot of his things before I could speak to my mum again, as long as we were alone.

“The twins wanted to see you.” She squints at the screen. “What happened to your neck?”

Remington finds that exact moment to exit the ensuite, coming up behind me. He’s wearing nothing but a white towel around his waist and he hasn’t bothered to dry his chest.

My mum’s eyes widen.

“Um...Hold? Where are you?”

“Hi Mrs. Holden’s Mom.” Remington waves at the screen.

“Hi…um…Holden, you are going to have to help your old mother here.”

I run a hand over the back of my neck before picking up a discarded t-shirt from the floor and throwing it at Remington.

“I’m in Sardinia.”

“Sardinia?” she shrieks. “You told me you were going on holiday with a friend! You failed to mention it was a holiday across the world !”

“No need to shout, Mum. I’m with…my friend.” I point to the smiling blond behind me.

“Ah huh,” Mum says, not convinced. “The twins want to say hi and then I’m going to go and you are going to text me the whole story.”

She’s quiet for a moment before asking, “You’re okay?”

“I am,” I answer, no word a lie. I know my mum worries about me.

She always has, and I have always hated that I’ve given her a reason to worry.

It’s partly why I never told her the full details about this trip.

Just like Theo, she’d have had concerns and may have tried to talk me out of it.

I love my mum. She is one of the best people I know, but I need her to have a little faith in me.

To not always see me as her broken child.

My twin sisters, Nola and Nelly, appear on the screen, filling my heart with genuine affection.

They’re wearing matching yellow dresses and both have chocolate smudged on their faces.

They take turns showing me their new teddies, one of them dashing off to collect the small, fuzzy bee plush that was once mine, but has been adopted by them.

It’s looking a little worn now, its fur more patchy than fluffy, and with what I think is a paint smudge over its smiling face and once white wings.

The twins talk over each other before they hang up, leaving me staring at a blank screen.

“Your mom likes me,” Remington remarks from where he’s stretched out on the bed, typing on his phone, an open bag of grape flavored candy bears on his chest.

“She doesn’t know you.”

“Meh, mere technicalities,” he shrugs. “She likes me.”

She probably will. Everyone likes Remington.

Me included.