I’ve been lying in bed for hours, tossing and turning.

Sleep evades me, as it tends to. Though this is different. I even considered smoking, which I’ll only ever do when I really need to get some rest. But I decided against it.

Torturing myself with my thoughts seems like what I deserve.

The television is on, volume so low it’s almost muted. I was hoping the white noise would help distract me, and maybe lull me into some form of slumber. But it’s not working. My mind is racing, flashing over the memories of the last twenty-four hours. The things I did… the things I let happen.

How it felt…

Despite how wrong I know it was, on every level, I can’t stop remembering the feel of his lips. Soft and unsure, but packed with so much undiscovered lust, it’s been bringing a steady throb to my balls for hours.

Even pushing aside the wrongness of what happened, I’m confounded at how good it felt. It makes no sense… Because I’m straight. And I always have been. I’ve never looked at any man in a sexual way before. It’s a part of myself I was always fully secure with before today.

Okay… There was that one time I accidentally stumbled upon a video. And it may have captivated my attention for more minutes than I’d ever admit out loud before I ultimately clicked back onto something more along the lines of my typical repertoire.

But that hardly makes me interested in guys. It was just a very brief, sort of fascinating accident. Which is a great way of describing what happened with Jesse, too.

I’m amazed at how intense it was… The head, and the kiss. Both illustrious in their own ways, rocking me down to my core. I can’t stop thinking about it.

My mind is twirling and whirling like a cyclone, my body itching in some need I can’t for the life of me figure out, when I hear a noise.

Footsteps, out in the hall.

My heart immediately lodges in my throat when I recognize the familiar shuffling. It sounds like Jesse sleepwalking.

Squeezing my eyes shut, I listen to him fumbling outside my bedroom door, which is unlocked and open a crack, as usual. Because despite how much I know I should be putting distance between us, I can’t shut him out. I’m incapable of doing so.

So he didn’t go to Tanner’s house…?

Or maybe he did and came back. Maybe they hooked up, and Jesse came home, like I’m sure he’s done before, which I never would have noticed before tonight.

I scoff to myself in the dark. What kind of name is Tanner anyway? He sounds like a douche.

What the fuck is this icky, suffocating nausea creeping up my esophagus like bile? And since when do I feel this while thinking about my adoptive son dating some asshole with a stupid name?