Page 120 of Method Acting

Our families had gone back to their hotels for a few hours before we were heading out to dinner, and Chase fell back onto the bed, arms spread wide.

“Baby, this is gonna be awesome. Can you believe we’re doing this?”

“I just have one more thing,” I said from the living room. “Something I pictured when you first talked about moving here and us living together. Just gimme one sec.”

He appeared in the doorway, looking around. “What is it? Is it a sex bench?”

I scoffed. “Of course not. That’s what the couch is for.”

He laughed and gave the armrest of the couch a good jostle. “It’s sturdy too.”

Then he saw what I was doing, what I was hanging on the wall.

“Oh my god,” he said, grinning. “This is what you imagined?”

I stood back and took in the Rick and Morty poster. “Yep.” It was a poster of the Rick and Morty toilet episode, which was stupid and childish. “It’s the episode where the fucked-up moral of the story is not to let your dreams turn to shit, basically.”

He laughed, sliding his arm around my waist. “It’s perfect. It’s an actual piece of art.”

I kissed the side of his head and pulled him in for a hug. “Now this place is ours.”

“Not yet,” he said, shoving me toward the bedroom. “We need to christen the bed. And the shower, and the couch, and the kitchen counter. Then this place will be ours.”

I chuckled and went willingly, pulling my shirt over my head. “Which do we christen first?”

“The bed.”

“But we just made it, and we’re all sweaty and gross.”

“Then the shower it is,” he said. “Not that it matters. We’re going to christen them all. We have the rest of forever to do it everywhere.” He pulled his shirt off and tossed it toward the hamper but missed.

“Pick that up. You’re not leaving your shit on the floor.”

He took my hand and placed it over his pec. “Feel your emotional support tiddies, take a deep breath in and go to your happy place.”

I walked him into the bathroom, pushing him against the small counter, kissing down his neck. “You are insufferable.”

He laughed. “You’re gonna love living with me. So much suffering.”

I smiled as I captured his lips with mine. Because yes, he still annoyed me. How it was possible to love someone with my whole heart and be equally annoyed by them, I’d never know. But he made me so happy I couldn’t even put it into words. “Let the suffering begin.”

He pulled my shirt over my head, kissing my collarbone and grinding his erection against mine. “However will you cope?” he asked breathily.

I slid my hands under the waistband of his shorts and pushed them down over his ass. “I’m sure I’ll find a way.”

“Forever? Will you put up with me forever?”

I spun him around so he faced the mirror and I met his eyes in the reflection. “You’re my one person, Chase.”

The smile he gave me was warm and just for me. “I love you, Amos.”

“I love you too. I don’t tell you often enough,” I whispered, kissing behind his ear.

“Yes, you do. Every time you call me insufferable. The very first time you called me that, I think it was day one of the method-acting thing. You said, ‘you’re insufferable,’ but what I heard was, ‘I love you and you’re my one person, my forever person, Chase Soria, and the more you annoy me, the more I will love you.’ That’s what I heard because it’s basically the same thing.”

I chuckled at his ridiculousness. “Well,” I said, meeting his eyes in the reflection. “I guess that means I’ll put up with you forever.”

He grinned. “Good. Forever starts in the shower.”