Page 65 of Flake It Til You Make It

Unlike last Saturday’s run-in with Steve Mills and his wife,thisSaturday night, Taylor was in a great mood by the time they exited Frosty’s.

He’d been flirty and charming all evening, touching Rocco as much as he could, and Rocco hoped, even though he knew thedanger in it, that maybethisSaturday night, things might end differently.

Maybe Taylor would kiss him again and this time not regret it.

Or maybe . . .as they walked out the front door of Frosty’s, Rocco toyed with the idea of being the one to initiate, even though Taylor hadn’t actually said a word about a redo.

But he had to be thinking it, didn’t he? Because Rocco sure was.

It felt like he’d barely stopped thinking about it, during the last week.

“Well, uh, I guess I should walk you home,” Taylor said.

“But I’m not tired,” Rocco said flirtatiously, letting his body sway a little closer to Taylor’s. And sure enough, his breath caught and his pupils dilated.

Yes, he definitely wanted Rocco.

The only question was, did hewantto want him? Rocco didn’t want to go through this again only to end up back in the same place.

His heart couldn’t take it.

“Me either, honestly,” Taylor said, shoving his hands into his pockets like doing that might keep him from reaching for Rocco.

“I think it’s come time in our dating relationship for you to show me your house,” Rocco said, giving TaylorthatMorettilook, the one that always guaranteed they’d ensnare whoever was on the receiving end.

He didn’t addand your bed, but he knew they were both thinking it.

Taylor looked appropriately blown away by it. “Uh, yeah? You think?”

“A good night calls for one last drink, don’t you think?” Rocco asked persuasively.

Shooting him a questioning look, Taylor just nodded. “It’s this way.”

They walked down Dasher Street in silence. It was late and the only sound was the crunch of the snow underneath their boots.

Rocco was wondering if he’d overstepped his bounds when suddenly Taylor stopped in the middle of the sidewalk.

Just fucking stopped. Right there.

Rocco turned, suddenly worried that hehadpushed him too hard. He hadn’t meant to, really, he just wanted the guy so much it was hard to practice much restraint.

“Everything okay?” Rocco asked, worried at what Taylor’s answer was going to be.

But Taylor didn’t say anything, just lifted his cold fingers to Rocco’s face and traced the lines of it, his touch soft but intent. “I can’t do this,” he said.

Rocco felt his heart crack. He swore he fuckingheardit. He couldn’t say anything. He never struggledwith words but he had nothing to say. It was ironic how he’d thought last Saturday was bad enough, but this was so much worse.

But then Taylor kept going. “I can’t keep pretending, I don’t evenwantto keep pretending,” he continued and before Rocco could respond, he shocked him by kissing him.

Taylor’s mouth was firm and confident andGod, so real. Rocco groaned and kissed him back just as fiercely, and they stumbled a bit as Rocco plastered his body against Taylor’s. Wanting his warmth, but more likeneedingit.

Taylor pulled away but it wasn’t like last time. It wasn’t at all. He was happy, practically glowing with it, and he said, “You—”

But that was all Rocco let him get out of his mouth before he was kissing him again, needier this time, pouring everything he’d felt over the last week, over the lastfewweeks, into the kiss.

Taylor’s hands reached under the hem of his coat and pressed into his sweater, as hungry and needy as Rocco felt.

“You,” Taylor gasped again, pulling away.

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