The area where he lived was a tiny street where the cars lined each side and left space enough only to allow cars to pass each other by the narrowest of margins. I feared for my Jag, glancing at it as often as I did Peter while we walked in an amiable silence. It was almost as if a truce were in place.
“How long have you looked after him?” I asked.
“None of your business,” he growled. Ceasefire apparently over.
I took a deep breath and pushed him against my car when we got there, caging him with my arms. Leaning forward, I dragged my nose, inhaling deeply, along his neck. “For some reason I can’t get enough of you,” I murmured in his ear. “I think you tease me with these rare glimpses of perfection. And then slap me with a dose of hostility. But mostly, I think you like me. And for some reason that pisses you off.”
When I lifted my head to catch his eyes, I was surprised to find him smiling. “I don’t like you,” he repeated, settling his hands on my hips. “Much.” Then he tortured me again by licking his lips, the gold ring glistening in the sun.
“But I have handcuffs and a nightstick.” I waggled my brows.
He pulled his smile into his teeth and released it. “You don’t piss me off as much, I guess.”
“Meaning you want to be naked and covered in chocolate later?”
“I’m allergic to chocolate,” was all he said to that. His fingers curled into my pants, pulling my hips close. But he turned his head when I leaned in to kiss him. “Where are we going?”
“Movie first.” I tried not to sound disappointed, but it trickled through. If he kept everything so distant with me, we had no chance of working out.
Was he worth all this effort? Watching him with Cai told me enough to say, yes. Most definitely, yes.
He grimaced. “We should go. Unless you want to stand out here all day.”
“I’m okay with that.” Hips touching, the scent of him, the warmth of the sun, no hostility. Yeah, I was okay with staying right here.
I sensed, rather than felt, his fingertips at my belt. Then he jerked it, and freed it from the buckle. It was broad daylight. While not busy, there were people around. Not that I stopped him. Even as my button was undone and the sound of my zipper going down sped up my pulse, I just closed my eyes and tried to breathe evenly. I wasn’t sure why I made the effort—I hadn’t had a steady heart rate since his first smile.
I knew he was emotionally distancing me with this behavior. Of that I was certain. But I was somewhat helpless against him. What made Peter more compelling than the sun’s gravity?
Something else I suspected as he leaned in, his breath quick against my cheek. If I let him turn this into only sex, that was all it would ever be. So even when his fingers slid dangerously low, I found the willpower to move away and zip up. “Later,” I choked out as he lifted his glistening finger, opened his mouth ever-so-slightly and sucked the tip.
Dear, sweet, mother of God.
I was now fully embracing the gay.
He Was Nothing Like What I Thought
Somehow I convinced myself to move away and get into the car. I clicked the automatic door locks, and Peter slid in beside me, pulling on his safety belt. I liked that he did that. I didn’t like that he put his feet on my dash, however. Arturo was delicate.
“You’ve had a shitty life,” I said as I pulled out.
“No I haven’t. I’ve had Cai and Darryl and Joe. There have just been bad bumps. Even the road to Disneyland has potholes.” He was rifling through my car, checking out the registration, pulling out bits from the console, flipping on the radio until classical music was playing low. “I’ve had a few potholes. They’re mostly repaired now.” When I turned my head, he was tapping a drawing pencil against his knee. Jesse’s.
“Cai’s why you spend so much time keeping the restaurant afloat?”
“Money is why I do that. Cai is why I breathe.”
“What happens when he goes to college? That has to be soon, right?”
“Soon,” he agreed. “He’s sixteen, but he’s ridiculously smart. He could be enrolled now. He loves high school too much, though.” I loved this relaxed part of him. His hostility had all but disappeared. I decided to talk about Cai for a long while.
“Here or out of state?”
“Here. University of Denver, I think.”
“My alma mater.”
He grunted in response, finding my detective notepad. He couldn’t read it; my notes were written in codes only I could comprehend. As he tucked it back into the console, I began to question if he wasn’t nervous. The thought made me grin. That was an absurd notion.