Sweat sticks us together. His bedroom smells of man-s*x. We pant, catching our breath. I lie in the crook of his arm, at his left side. “You’re still hard, Dustin.”
“What can I say, you turn me on.”
“Are you really in love with me or just delusional?”
He doesn’t answer me. He won’t. I already know the answer to my question. He is in love with me. He’s always been in love with me. Ever since we met on Grindr. Ever since we had dinner together. Ever since he slept with me that first time.
“Don’t answer me,” I tell him.
But he does answer me. “Of course I love you. I have always loved you. You’ve always given me the best days. You have my heart. And I’ve always felt that I have your heart. Always…always.”
* * * *
A week later. After my ass hurts. Maybe two weeks. I can’t remember. Does
