Page 117 of Best Served Cold

He grinned, and not his usual smirk-smile, but a real one that lit up his face. Goddamn he was gorgeous. “I do.”

“Did you use it? I have vague memories of you flipping it around like a serial killer.”

“I pulled it out to scare those asshats off. The ones who were trying to get you to fight them.”

“I don’t remember them, but I’m seeing a chihuahua in my head.”

“You called one of them a chihuahua. It was accurate.”

“Did I say anything when you had the knife?” My cheeks prickled with heat. I remembered how much seeing him with that knife had turned me on, but couldn’t remember if I’d said so out loud, or if that had stayed in my head.

Was I blushing? Could he tell? Ugh, why did I shave this morning? At least my scruff would have helped camouflage my shame.

“You might have said you thought it was hot.”

“Of course I did,” I grumbled and cut my eyes to the wall. “Did I say anything else?”

“You said a lot of things. Nothing you need to be embarrassed about.”

I slid my gaze back to him. “Are you sure?”

He nodded. “It was a lot of babbling. You said you were confused about some stuff…”

“Did I tell you what stuff?”

His expression answered that question.

“Fucking perfect.” I covered my eyes. “Pardon me while I go die.”

A warm hand closed around my wrist and gently tugged it away from my face.

“Nothing to be embarrassed about,” he repeated, his voice rough and a bit broken. “There’s nothing wrong with questioning things. And with how you grew up…”

“I think I’m bi,” I whispered. His encouraging expression helped fortify me so I could keep talking. “I think I’ve always been interested in guys, but I didn’t want to admit it. I could ignore it because I like girls more, but that interest was always there. Even if I’ve only felt it a few times.”

“Makes sense. Sexuality is a spectrum. It takes time to figure out who you are and what you’re into, especially if you never had the chance to explore that when you were young.” He sucked his lip into his mouth and slowly scraped his teeth over it.

Why was that so sexy? I’d seen him do it dozens of times and it never failed to get my blood pumping.

“I guess I didn’t just lose gay chicken,” I said, my voice breathy for no reason. “Can’t play if I’m not straight.”

“I think it’s pretty obvious neither of us is.” He scuffed his shoe against the floor, his eyes darting around the room in a quick sweep.

“You’re…” My throat spasmed with anxiety, and a little hope.

“Not sure what I am, but I’m definitely not straight.” He huffed out a laugh. “You’re not the only one trying to figure shit out here.”

“Does that mean we both forfeit?”

“Or maybe it means we both win.” He quirked his eyebrow, the challenge in his eyes clear.

“There’s only one way we can both win.” My dick throbbed in my jeans.

Don’t get too excited, I told it. He’s just fucking with you. This is what you guys do.

“That’s true.” His gaze fell to my mouth. “What are we going to do about that?”

“I guess that depends on two things.” I stepped closer to him, caging him against the wall with my bigger body.

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