Only One Bed

We hadn’t spoken a single word since we left the sauna. Not even a goodnight. I could hardly breathe. Was he going to sleep without telling me? Should I ask? Was I being patient or seeming uninterested in him?

“Do you think it would be weird if I wanted to kiss a guy?”

For a second, I wasn’t sure if Sam had actually said the words. Was I understanding? Did that sentence say what I thought? I’d grown up bilingual, but suddenly I felt like I didn’t speak any language fluently. My heart was about to explode. My throat was a desert.

“Why would I think that’s weird?” I didn’t even recognize my own croaky voice.

I waited.

Sam was silent beside me. On our backs in the darkness, there was only a few inches between us. I stared at nothing, wishing I hadn’t switched off the Christmas lights. Wishing I had the guts to turn my head to the right and look at him.

My muscles were locked, my body completely stiff. Including my dick. Was this happening? But what was this, exactly? Was Sam into me after all? Was he just talking? Wondering aloud?

I replayed his question. It hadn’t sounded casual. His whisper had been quiet. Eager? Scared? I didn’t want him to be scared. What if he liked someone else and was afraid to tell me? Even though the thought of him and another guy was a punch right in the balls, he was my best friend.

I loved him. I couldn’t let him be afraid.

“It’s okay,” I whispered. “Whatever you want to do is okay. With whoever.”

Silence. Aside from my raging heartbeat thundering in my chest. The heat from Sam’s body beside me was a furnace under the duvet. Sweat prickled the back of my neck. If it wasn’t me he wanted to kiss, I’d die.

It’s not me! Stop dreaming!

When I’d asked him to come to Tremblant, I should have known there’d only be one bed. I should have known I’d be torturing myself for a week. Joyeux Noël! Happy New Year! Here’s some torment!

“You don’t think it’s weird?” Sam’s voice was unusually high.

I exhaled. “Of course not. I’ve wanted to kiss guys for years.”

“Have you ever…”

My throat closed, my lungs frozen.

I waited.

“You don’t want to kiss me, do you?”

It was still too dark to see him. Not that I could move a muscle to look his way. I had to answer. But what was he asking? Was he freaked out? Had he finally guessed that I wanted him?

I should have gotten a cot from the hotel and given him the bed. Was I being a creep? Was all this because he was uncomfortable?

Wait. No, he’d asked about him wanting to kiss a guy. My mind circled out of control.

“Are you asleep?” he asked, barely out loud.

“No,” I rasped. “I’m…” Speechless, apparently. Terrified? Dying? I had no idea which word was right.

The mattress between us dipped, his body shifting, making a shushing noise on the sheets. We still weren’t touching, but we had to be only a sliver apart now. Sam’s breath hit my cheek as he murmured, “Do you like me?”

This was it. After so long, here it was. Yes. I like you the most. I love you. I’ve been in love with you forever. I want you like oxygen.

I only said, “You’re my best friend.”

Sam made a little sighing sound, his exhalation tickling my ear. “Yeah. You too. That’s not…” He went silent.

Was this really what it seemed to be? All signs pointed to yes. If Sam were anyone else, I’d have been kissing him already. I’d be on top of him, feeling the heat of his body under me, skin to skin.

I had to suck in a breath, my pulse hammering. I had to believe the evidence right in front of me. This wasn’t idle talk. Plenty of times when we were teenagers, we’d had sleepovers and talked about life and the future and what-ifs and all that stuff.

This wasn’t that. Sam was being brave, and it was my turn.

“I like you so much!” I spewed out the words so fast they slurred together. “I want to kiss you. If you want to kiss me, then we should.”

“Holy shit. Seriously?” He sounded breathless.

“Yes.”

“Okay. Should we… It’s not a big deal. We can just…”

The bed dipped again, Sam rolling onto his side toward me as I rolled to him, and we finally touched. Not that we hadn’t touched a million times over the years.

But not like this.

In the darkness, Sam’s outline just visible, we pressed against each other. Through our T-shirts, our chests met, my flannel-covered knees poking his bare legs beneath his boxers. I snaked my arm over his waist, and his sweaty hand touched my neck like a brand.

Our fast little gasps were loud and hot as we sought with our mouths. We missed, and my lips found his chin as he hit my nose. Sam laughed in a high-pitched burst of warm air. I smiled as we tried again, joy bubbling through my veins like champagne.