Max’s five-o’clock shadow had scratched Jeremy’s face, and he touched his smooth skin now as if he could still feel it. Max had cradled his head, and they’d shared breath and a little spit, and it was as perfect a first kiss as he could have hoped for. He’d felt safe tucked against Max’s body even though they’d been standing right in the open on the street.
If you’re tired, you’re better off getting some sleep and studying tomorrow than pulling an all-nighter. That’s what Honey always says. He’s annoyingly right about stuff.
Jeremy smiled in the darkness of his room.
Yeah, he’s probably right. I just can’t sleep, I guess. Feel guilty.
As soon as he sent it, regret flooded him. Why had he admitted that? Max’s response came quickly:
For what? And don’t say nothing.
Jeremy had to smile a little at that. He typed back:
You went to all that trouble to take me out and I froze.
The reply bubble appeared. Then disappeared and reappeared. Jeremy’s heart thudded as he waited. Then Max replied with:
Dude, it’s cool. Didn’t we talk about this already? You’re good.
They had talked about it, Max had made him feel better, then Max had kissed him oh my GOD. And yet, Jeremy’s brain still circled back. It did that a lot when he was trying to sleep, replaying mortifying moments from years ago like they were yesterday. In this case, he supposed it was. His dad had always said—
Inhaling sharply, Jeremy squeezed his eyes shut, the sudden surge of emotion too much. He couldn’t think about his family right now. He gratefully read the new message from Max:
Should have started you with the app instead of a bar. Sexting might be easier for you at first.
“Sexting?” Jeremy exclaimed. “Are you freaking kidding me?” He replied:
I’ll be even more painfully awkward, I assure you.
Max came back with:
You’ve gotta start somewhere. It’s not hard, I promise. ;)
His heart skipped as he read and reread the text. It was true he had to start somewhere, but wasn’t that kiss a start? Even if it hadn’t been real. He wrote back:
I would be the worst sexter in history.
Max replied:
Worse than Genghis Khan? Because I hear that dude had no game.
Jeremy burst out laughing, the knot in his stomach relaxing. Before he could respond, Max added:
Do you want to try it? I’ll give you pointers. Up to you, obvs.
Heart in his throat, he stared at the screen. He didn’t want to try it with a stranger. He wanted to try it with Max. Which was kind of what Max was offering, right? Even if he meant he’d help Jeremy practice. His thumbs shook as he typed back:
Okay.
There was a pause as the bubbles appeared. Then came:
Just talk about what you like. Exchange dick pics if he’s into it. Here, I’ll show you.
Wait. What? Show him? Was Max going to send a dick pic? Whoa. Holy shit.
What had to be every single drop of blood in Jeremy’s body flooded south as he instantly went hard. A picture of Max’s cock would be better than porn. But another text came. No pic.
Hey. You look hot. What’s the dirtiest thing you’ve ever thought of doing with a guy?
Jeremy’s breath caught. He’d never considered that question before, but his brain supplied an answer immediately because his brain was a jerk. His dick throbbed as that particular fantasy filled his head. There was no way in hell Jeremy was going to reply that he’d imagined being rimmed. The idea of being licked there turned him on big time for some reason.
It probably wasn’t even that dirty! Max would roll his eyes at how tame it was. Jeremy tapped out a response.
I’m sorry. I know you’re trying to help, but I just can’t.
He was about to add a thank you since he didn’t want to seem ungrateful when his phone buzzed. He yelped and fumbled it, glad the cheap rug by the bed was enough to break the fall. He scooped it up and stared at the screen. Max was calling him. Sitting up in bed, he swiped to answer.
“Um…hello?” Jeremy couldn’t remember the last time he’d actually used his phone as a phone. Like, to talk. Out loud.
“Hey,” Max said in that rumbling baritone that ensured Jeremy’s erection wasn’t going anywhere. “Are you okay? I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pressure you.”
“No, you didn’t!”
“I think I did. This stuff comes easy for me.” He laughed. “I’ve always had a dirty mind.”
Jeremy laughed nervously, very aware of how hard he was. “I’m not a prude. I mean, I’m a virgin, and I’m clearly not good at saying stuff out loud—or typing it, I guess. But I’m not… It’s not that I don’t think things. Or…like them.”
Max teased, “You telling me you have a dirty mind, Cherry?”
His childhood nickname took on a whole new meaning when Max said it, and that low, sexy tone made him tingle. “I think so? I mean, what I think is dirty might be stupidly naive, but I’ve had plenty of thoughts.”