Page 108 of I Blame the Club

“You’re too fucking perfect.” I blurt out the words, adding another regret to the growing list, “At least that’s what I used to think.”

Maurice scowls, “You ran away because I’m put together?”

“Yes. No. Kind of.” I grimace, silently vowing to never free verse again, “You’re an idol, Maurice. A legend who has more threesomes under his belt than most B-list celebrities.”

His lips twitch, “Are you calling me the B team?”

“Hell no, and that’s my point. You are the hottest, most confident, put together person I’ve ever known and that’s intimidating as fuck, do you know why?”

I’m on a roll now, so I don’t give him a chance to answer, “Because it makes you seem untouchable. Inhuman. Too sexy to be anything but on the cover of a magazine.”

I blow out a breath, “But then I got to know you. I saw the cracks beneath the armour, the motion sickness behind every offer to drive. You aren’t the emotionless robot people paint you out to be, you’re just a regular guy with ridiculously good genetics and a defence mechanism that keeps people at a distance.”

Maurice frowns, and without thinking, I bridge the space between us to smooth out the crease. His body stiffens against my touch.

Throwing my heart on the line, I take one last breath and lay out the barren truth.

“I ran away because I was scared you wouldn’t fight for me. That one day you would wake up and realize the inconvenience of having a gay partner wouldn’t be worth the effort.”

My voice cracks right at the end, so I snap my mouth shut and try not to fall over from the emotional purge I just went through.

Maurice tilts his head, his expression carefully blank as he mulls over my words. I drop my thumb from his forehead, searching his face for anything that might give me a glimpse of what’s going through his head right now.

Nothing. He’s giving me nothing.

I scuff the toe of my sneaker on the ground, jamming my hands into the pockets of my jeans to stop the nervous fidgeting. I’m dying to break the tension with an inappropriate comment but I hold back, giving him space to think.

So, I wait.

And wait.

And wait some more.

Truthfully, it’s only been two minutes since I cut off the emotional onslaught, but every second feels like eternity as I wait for Maurice’s response.

He clears his throat and I swear my heart stops on the spot.

“Which magazine would you feature me on?”

Maurice grins, a wide, heart-stopping smile that reaches his eyes and that’s all it takes for me to burst out laughing. My knees buckle with relief and if it weren’t for his strong arms reaching out to stabilize me, I would be a puddle on the floor.

“Babe, I would put you on them all.”

He chuckles, “Well said, Montez.”

I sigh, soaking up the rare moment of him looking carefree and happy. Most people would snap a picture to frame this shot, but I prefer knowing this moment will only ever exist between us.

Right here, right now.

Maurice shakes his head and just like that, the moment vanishes with his smile.

“Why would you think I wouldn’t fight for you?” He gives me a pointed look, “I’ve never once shown discomfort at the thought or reality of being with a man.”

I flap a hand, “You get too focused on the data, Maurice. Of course you haven’t given me any red flags, if you had I would have dipped a long time ago.”

He glares at me but I shrug it off, “I don’t run on logic like you do-

“No shit.”

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