Not unless his hand was under my shirt. Gay sex The air between us shattered.There it was. Full tears this time, arms wrapped tight around me like she was afraid I might disappear. Even if we never said the word love.Even if we weren’t a thing.When I got to his house, the lights were dim. Just enough to let the door stay cracked.But only because no one was around to hear it.Luke was never good with feelings. His eyes on mine. Some secret you’re relieved to be rid of?”He looked like he wanted to say something.He didn’t.“You can’t even say it,” I whispered. Not like behind the shed or in his truck after practice. “Don’t stop.”And he didn’t.He rocked into me gently, then deeper, the bed creaking softly beneath us. Then he added:Don’t make plans Friday. Like museum glass, you don’t press too hard. “That’s the problem.”He hugged me again. Not the packing. We used to play Xbox on the floor, eat snacks, argue over game scores. Not the leaving.The remembering.Because some memories deserve to be left untouched. His eyes on mine.
