Page 98 of High Stakes and Soulmates
“Maybe I wanted it,” I say.
“Then it shall be yours,” Ezio proclaims, and then he’s gone in a flash. He returns far too quickly and presents to me the weirdest artwork I’ve ever laid my eyes on.
“This obviously should be donated to the Louvre. Like… I feel wrong even holding it.”
“Right?” he asks. “Now that you’re done with dinner, are you ready for dessert?”
“I didn’t know I was saving room for dessert. Unless this is a sex thing and you’re the dessert.”
That makes him stop in his tracks. “Nope. You are wounded. I will get your dessert for you,” he says, and off he goes again. He returns bearing a steaming lava cake with ice cream on top. “I totally made it. Not Yorick. Yorick knows nothing. Although… I have to admit that I am slightly fond of him… he was quite nice when you were in the hospital.”
“That’s good,” I comment, not liking the look on his face as he thinks about the hospital. “Ezio, stay focused.”
He looks up and smiles at me. “I’m very focused. I’m fine.”
“Good.”
“You want to watch some TV?”
“Sure,” I say, and then he’s gone again. I assume he’s setting me up a nest in the living room again butnope,here he comes with a large flat-screen TV which he awkwardly holds as he realizes there’s no place for it. “Hmm… I can hold it up while you watch? Ooh, good job for Yorick. Yorick, come!”
Yorick arrives almost on command and looks confused when Ezio hands him the TV.
“Nice, nice. A little higher.”
“I assumed you were having a slumber party that I was invited to, and I find myself oddly disappointed.”
“Why? You’re clearly the main attraction,” Ezio says.
“That is true,” Yorick agrees as he puts the TV on his shoulders so it’s a requirement to stare at his head if we’re actually to watch this TV.
“Where did you get the TV?” I ask.
“Casimir and Julian’s room. They don’t mind.”
“Did you ask?”
“Absolutely not,” Ezio responds, plugging it in and sitting down on the foot of the bed while Yorick shakes his hair free of the band he has in it.
“Let me shift positions. I’m confident my right side is prettier,” Yorick says as Julian stops in the doorway and stares in.
His eyes narrow the longer he stares. “Do I even ask?”
“I mean… do you really evenneeda TV when you have me?” Yorick questions as he sets the TV down, rips open the front of his shirt, and strikes a pose.
I’m not going to lie… the man knows how to pull off the stupidest shit.
“Or if you want the TV involved,” he offers while he straddles the TV like it’s a horse before tossing his smolder my way.
“I wish I could vomit,” Atticus says, stopping next to Julian. “Johnny. Get me a vomit bucket, please.”
“Right away, sir,” Johnny replies as he trots off and comes back with a hat that I’m positive belongs to Yorick.
Yorick’s attention snaps to Atticus. “Come over here and say that to my face.”
Atticus walks right up to him, and his saunter is so perfect, it’s like he’s walking down a runway. He reaches out, and with one finger, he tips up Yorick’s chin before leaning in. “I wish… I could… vomit,” he says in a low, sultry tone.
Yorick is stone still for a moment before his eyes drift up to Atticus’s. “I’m thrilled I make you feel that way.”
