Page 53 of Method Acting

I thought he might roll his eyes at me, but no. He replied with his own. “‘It’s a Sicilian message. It means Luca Brasi sleeps with the fishes.’”

I laughed, impressed. “Great quote.”

He lifted my legs and sat on the bed with his back against the wall. He put my legs back across his knees, his hand resting on my thigh. “It’s an underrated quote.”

“And that’s an underrated move,” I said, gesturing to my legs. “Impress all the boys with that?”

He replied with a glare. “Don’t get comfortable. You’re going down to get the pizza.”

“That’s fine. I’ll be taking the elevator. No point in taking the stairs if you’re not there to ogle my ass.”

He sighed. “Rick and Morty okay?”

“Perfect.”

And I couldn’t lie, this was perfect. Just chilling, easy company, stupid, funny shit to watch and pizza on the way.

“Tell me, is all dating like this?” I asked. “I mean, boyfriends. Is this what they do every night?”

“Why? Are you bored?”

“Are you kidding? This is like my ideal night right here.”

He kept his eyes on the screen but his smile turned a little wry. “Yeah, I guess this is what boyfriends do.”

“Man, I’ve been missing out. Add in some making out, maybe an orgasm or two, and it’s a perfect night.”

He turned slowly to face me. “Pardon?”

Oh shit. I just realized how that sounded.

“I didn’t mean with you. Tonight. I just meant in general. If this is what boyfriends do. This, right here.” I gestured to us. “Hanging out, chilling out watching shit on Netflix, and eating pizza. I mean, that’s perfect. And I’m assuming most boyfriends make out because that’s what couples do, right? And sex? That’s all I meant. I didn’t mean you. I mean, not that I’d be opposed to that. With you, because you’re hot and everything.” Christ, Chase, stop talking. “But that’s not... I didn’t mean... Fuck.”

He was still staring, but the corner of his mouth did that thing... that almost curling thing that I was beginning to think was his trademark smirk. “Are you done?”

“Embarrassing myself? Not sure. The night is young. Anything’s possible.”

He pressed his lips together and watched the screen for a bit. “So you think I’m hot?”

I pulled his pillow over my head and groaned. “Is it possible to snuff yourself with a pillow?”

“Dunno. You try it, then we’ll know.”

I took the pillow and tried to whack him with it, but he deflected it easily. He gestured to his screen. “You’re missing one of my favorite episodes.”

I shoved his pillow back under my head and pouted for a bit, trying really hard not to think about how his hand was now resting a little further up my thigh.

“You’re totally hot,” I said, aiming for nonchalance, watching Rick and Morty do stupid shit. “Don’t pretend you don’t know that.”

He shot me another glare, mouth open, just about to kill me with sarcasm and wit, no doubt, when my phone beeped.

“Ooh, pizza,” I said. “Saved by the bell.”

I pulled one leg back, sat up, and straddled him before climbing off the bed. The move stunned him, but I got in a quick grind before he could shove me.

“Do you need another lesson in consent?”

I stopped at the door. “Would that involve you pinning me down with your body weight again? Because if so, then yes, I need another lesson in consent.”

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