Page 90 of Game On

Jamie groaned. “Christ.”

Dorian leaned forward to peer past Holly and Emme at Niall. “Are you two a thing?”

“Wait, when did you meet Gio?” Holly asked.

“The first time I visited Jamie in Charlotte,” Niall said. “And the second. And the third. And the fourth. And the?—”

“I get the picture.”

“So.” Emme prompted. “Are you a thing?”

“Nooooo. We just happen to get along quite well both in and out of bed. I like his... muscles.”

Smirking, Dorian leered at Jamie. “Muscles are good.”

“Christ,” Jamie repeated as his siblings and Dorian fell into giggles.

But he couldn’t help but smile too. Because watching Dorian laugh uncontrollably along with his family was a gift he’d always treasure.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Later that week, Dorian grabbed a stack of sheets from his linen closet and brought them to the living room. He dragged the barstools from the kitchen into the living room too, as well as a couple of kitchen chairs, just in case. Next, he rearranged the stools and chairs into a semi-circle and began draping sheets over them.

Maybe it was stupid, but he was going to romance his boyfriend.

The thing about Jamie that made Dorian want to hide under the bedcovers and stand ten feet tall in equal measure was that he listened. He listened and he encouraged and he didn’t judge or make Dorian feel stupid for voicing his ideas and opinions.

Dorian could fail, and Jamie would still be there.

He couldn’t say the same about his parents.

But his parents weren’t allowed in the house today—not even in spirit.

Dorian had plans.

Jamie made him feel... He made him feel like...

Fuck, he couldn’t articulate it. Just that Jamie made him feel seen and heard and important and like he was worth something.

Dorian only wanted to make Jamie feel the same in return.

Perhaps Charlie had been joking when he’d mentioned the blanket fort, but the idea had stuck with Dorian since. He hadn’t built a blanket fort since... well, probably since he and Charlie were kids. He had a charcuterie board of cheeses, meats, crackers, and breads ready to go for a pre-dinner appetizer, and if he strung fairy lights in his fort and lit a couple of candles, it’d be romantic as fuck.

Poppy watched him from the couch.

“What do you think, Poppy? It’s kind of lopsided, but I think it’ll do.”

“What are you doing?”

Heart jumping into his throat, he turned and faced his sister. Adriana had come up the stairs from the basement apartment, and she sat on the top step, elbows on the floor as she watched him work.

Caught in the act, he scowled at her. “What does it look like I’m doing?”

“It looks like you’re building a blanket fort,” she said mildly.

“Why ask a question you already know the answer to?”

“But why are you building a blanket fort?”

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