Chapter 52: Lesson one
Chapter 51
Nolan
"Lessons." Ciel says it like he’s announcing a grocery list, calm as can be, while my heart tries to climb out of my throat.
"What lessons?" I ask, already bracing myself. With him, it’s always something absurd.
"I’ll teach you," he replies, still on the floor with Lanny, golden eyes downcast, lashes long enough to cast shadows. "Since I’m obviously the more experienced one between us."
"Teach me?" My voice cracks. Hesitant. Afraid. Too hopeful.
"Yeah."
"Teach me... how?" My pulse is hammering now, because I already know where this is headed.
Before he can answer, the door swings open. Jack barrels in, eyes zeroing straight on the baby like a guided missile.
"Did you miss me?" he coos, scooping Lanny into his arms without so much as a glance at us.
"I’m here too," Ciel mutters.
"Yeah, yeah." Jack waves him off, already lost in some father-son fantasy.
Ciel scoffs, and I almost laugh, but then Jack is announcing, "It’s time for some bonding with your favorite father. Let’s go, champ." And just like that, he’s gone again—Lanny and all.
The silence that follows is worse than Jack’s presence.
Ciel stands, smooth and deliberate, and shuts the door. He turns back to me, a spark in his eyes I don’t trust. Then he crosses the room and sits next to me on the bed. Too close. Close enough that I can smell the faint citrus of his shampoo.
"Practical lessons," he says, blinking at me through those ridiculous scarlet lashes.
"Practical," I squeak, like some faulty wind-up toy.
"Yes. How else will you learn?" He tilts his head, calm as a professor about to grade a test.
My throat is dry. I stare at the stitching of the pillowcase beside me like it holds the secrets of the universe. "Lesson one, kissing," he announces.
"That’s a drastic jump!" I blurt.
"It’s not," he says simply.
I shuffle backward, scrambling for distance, but he follows me until my back hits the headboard. Trapped. His golden gaze pins me down worse than his body ever could.
"There are lines best friends shouldn’t cross," I say quickly, my voice desperate.
He rolls his eyes. "You’re not just my best friend, Nolan. You’re literally the other half of my soul."
He doesn’t know what that does to me—how those words gut me every time he says them.
"Still, let’s talk—"
"Lesson one." His lips brush mine before I can finish.
I swear, my heart flatlines.
*
Unfortunately—or maybe fortunately—it genuinely becomes a lesson.
"Open your mouth, Nollie."
"No, not like that. Too much tongue."
"Slower,what are you racing for?"
I don’t know how long it goes on, his corrections blurring into the roar of my pulse. My hands clench, then unclench. My chest aches.
"Now," his voice cuts through the haze, breathless but still steady. "What did I say?"
I blink at him, dazed. "Yeah, uh... it’s a build-up. A slow high."
His lips twitch, approving. "Great. Now try again."
He leans back just enough to give me room, golden eyes gleaming with challenge.
I exhale. Right.Don’t screw this up.
I bring my hand to the back of his neck, fingers slipping into the base of his hair like he showed me. Step one. Something about hand position Nollie.
Step two—eye contact. Show intent. His golden gaze locks onto mine, steady and endless. He’s so damn pretty. My chest tightens.
Apparently, one and two are interchangeable.
Step three—go for it.
I lean forward, closing the gap. Our lips meet, softer this time, more deliberate.
I can do this. Not too slow, not too fast. Gradual, controlled. My hand steadies at his neck, my other hovering awkwardly until it finds his waist.
He doesn’t pull away. He leans in, matching my pace, and suddenly it clicks. The rhythm. The balance. The give and take.
It’s not just kissing—it’s conversation without words.
And God help me, it’s addictive.
Wow.
Now I get it. Why Jack kisses him every chance he gets. Watching was hot. Experiencing? Even hotter.
***
Ciel
Is this what they mean about the student becoming the master?
Because the second Nolan pulls me closer, it feels like the roles have flipped. His lips crash against mine—not messy, not hesitant, but sure.
He bites my bottom lip, sharp enough for me to gasp. My mouth opens, instinctive, and he takes that second like it was planned, sliding his tongue in smooth and confident.
Fucking hell.
Student definitely becoming the master.
My heart slams against my ribs, and my fingers—traitorous things—curl into his shirt, dragging him closer. I’m supposed to be teaching, supposed to be the one guiding him through this, but right now all I can think about is how much I don’t want him to stop.
Heat blooms in my chest, spreading everywhere, quick and consuming. His hands are awkward still, but the sincerity makes up for it. One on my jaw, thumb brushing my cheek, the other sliding tentatively into my hair. I shiver. God, that feels good.
I grip his wrist, not to push him away but to anchor myself. My other hand snakes into his hair, tugging lightly, and he groans against my mouth. The sound vibrates through me, straight down my spine.
I lose myself in it. The rhythm. The push and pull. The way he catches on so quickly, matching my pace, then daring to take the lead again.
I part my lips wider, letting him in fully, and he deepens the kiss, no hesitation now. His tongue brushes mine, teasing, coaxing, until I’m the one gasping against him. My chest rises and falls too fast, breath stolen, and yet I can’t bring myself to break away.
When he shifts even closer, pressing me back against the pillows, something in me stutters.
Fingers tangled in his hair, lips moving feverishly against his, holding him like he’s the only thing keeping me steady.
When he finally pulls back just a fraction, his forehead drops against mine. Both of us panting. Both of us trembling. His golden-blue eyes blaze with something I don’t dare name.
"Lesson one," he whispers, lips still ghosting mine.
Maybe when your best friend says there are lines you shouldn’t cross, you should fucking listen. Because what the hell just happened?
Something has changed.