“Yeah.” He shrugs so nonchalantly, he almost convinces himself. “If I had a dollar for every time a straight dude kissed me on a lark, I’d have . . well, like, five dollars.”
Charlie doesn’t laugh. His brow is furrowed into his constipation face. It is maybe Dev’s favorite face. “It’s… it’s a big deal to me, Dev.”
“What do you mean?” Dev fears the answer—fears the shame and regret Charlie’s about to put into words.
“I mean, I like you. Or I like kissing you. Or I don’t know.” A beautiful blush climbs up Charlie’s neck, spreads across his cheeks. “But I get it. You don’t want me to kiss you, and it’s inappropriate for me to keep throwing myself at you.”
Dev feels slightly untethered from his body. “You… you like kissing me?”
“I sort of thought that was obvious after the other night.” Charlie gestures awkwardly to his body, and Dev remembers the feeling of Charlie pressed against him outside the club. He wants Charlie against him right now, but he knows he can never have that again.
“I thought you weren’t really into kissing.”
“Yes, this is sort of a new development for me,” Charlie admits quietly. The confession lands somewhere south-southwest of Dev’s sternum.
“Maybe that means you’re becoming more comfortable in your own skin,” Dev says. He’s not sure who he’s trying to convince. “Maybe as you continue developing genuine emotional connections with the women, you’ll find that you can enjoy kissing them, too.”
“Yeah.” Charlie swallows. “Maybe.”
They sit hip to hip in awkward silence. Dev should get up and leave. He should close the door between their adjoining rooms, close the door on this entire impossible moment. He should not reach over and touch Charlie’s knee again. But he does.
He runs through his logical arguments: his job is to help turn Charlie into the perfect prince so he can fall in love with one of the contestants, and he’s so close. Charlie is becoming an amazing star when the cameras are rolling, and he bonds with the women more each week. With more time, Dev knows he can help Charlie get his happily ever after. But not if he keeps doing this.
They’re both staring at Dev’s fingers on Charlie’s navy sweatpants, and when Dev looks up, he realizes Charlie’s face is only six inches away. “Dev.” Charlie’s voice is thick and close.
“It could be like practice dating,” Dev hears himself say. Desperately, pathetically, so full of longing, he’s convinced he might choke on it. “To help you feel more comfortable with it?”
Charlie nods and keeps nodding until his mouth meets Dev’s in the small space between them on the bed. It’s a soft kiss, hesitant, like Charlie’s afraid he might be quizzed on it later. Dev tries to focus on the practice part of practice kissing, but as soon as Charlie’s hand touches his waist, his sentient skin overrides all his logic and drives him up into Charlie’s lap.
He stares down at Charlie as he straddles him. “Is this okay?” Dev asks. “Um, for practice purposes?”
“Yeah.” Charlie’s voice trembles. “Okay.”
Dev scrapes his fingers through Charlie’s damp hair. “Is this okay?”
Charlie swallows. “Definitely okay.”
He leans forward, his mouth hovering next to Charlie’s jaw. “Is this okay?”
Charlie makes an unintelligent sound of consent before Dev kisses his jaw, once, twice, three times, until he arrives at Charlie’s ear. As soon as Dev takes Charlie’s earlobe in his mouth, Charlie goes rigid beneath him, and he grabs onto Dev’s thighs for support. “Okay?” Dev breathes as he scratches his teeth along the skin behind Charlie’s ear.