Page 9 of Say It Again

Daniel leaned away and braced the sink. “Well, I would, but I have a—”

“A boyfriend? Yeah, you mentioned that.” Aaron eased nearer. “But what happens when you’re with him later tonight, staring into space like you guys do? Eating leftover clam chowder, you know, like you do.”

“Why would we be eating…?” He squinted. “What—?”

“And you can’t help but think about me?” Aaron stepped closer still, grinning like a man confident Daniel would be thinking about him. “What then?”

Daniel gulped as he tangoed backward. As Aaron followed. “I don’t know.”

“Hadn’t thought that far?”

“Hadn’t had time.”

His back hit the wall, and Aaron leaned into him, his hands framing either side of his head. Without a hint of modesty, he said, “Break up with him.”

Daniel would’ve stumbled backward if he had anywhere to go. “What?”

“You heard me.”

“I did. But.” Well. He didn’t have a very good response, did he?

“I’d like to take you out. You have a boyfriend. So break up with him.”

Then, there they stood. Chests nearly grazing. Breath sizzling. Daniel’s back against the wall. Physically and metaphorically.

“Well,” Aaron sighed after a moment. He shrugged and pushed himself backward, swiping his hands together. “I tried. I have to go.”

Daniel blinked rapidly. Oh. Oh no. No, no, no. He grabbed Aaron’s arm as he started to twist away. “Wait—”

Slam. Daniel’s body hit the wall. Thunk. A painting of a sunflower hit the floor. Aaron cupped his face and crushed their lips together.

His eyes widened, then rolled shut, then widened again as he palmed Aaron’s chest, but any protesting nonsense for the sake of playing it a lot cooler than this got buried somewhere deep, somewhere beautiful inside Aaron’s expert mouth, in a casket right next to the wherewithal to change a single detail about the moment.

Dearly beloved, what a moment it was.

Aaron demanded as much as he gave, and he ventured a calculated risk as a firm hand gripped Daniel’s jaw and another pinned his wrist against the tile. He couldn’t move. He didn’t want to move. Could he not live here for a night or two? Pooled into this near-stranger’s arms, letting this near-stranger’s tongue transgress his boundaries, which were either asleep at the wheel or drunk in the cheap seats and rooting them on.

Aaron’s hands on Daniel’s ass, his mouth on his lips—it was all too feral to be happening in the first place. Too fucking wet to lend a passing worry. And despite being nailed against a wall like a secret lover Aaron was running out of time to consume, Daniel somehow felt… treasured? Yes, he would go on that date. Yes, he would gladly give it up before the appetizers arrived. If ever there’d been a time when he’d been handled with such vehemence, with such shocking intuition, whoever it was just got demoted to second place.

The cold tile behind his back began to contrast against the boiling point of magma below his waist, and Aaron chose that moment to sink his teeth into Daniel’s neck, steamrolling right over the question How far do I let this go? Insisting the only answer was Someone lock the goddamn door.

Then, as wild as it started, it slowed just as gradually when Aaron transitioned into these measured, fairy-tale kisses that softly peppered Daniel’s temple, across his chin, and down to his chest. He smoothed Daniel’s collar, locked their gazes, and said in a husky whisper, “Thank you. That was fun.”

Daniel blinked.

Fun. Said matter-of-factly. Said like the last few minutes had simply been on Aaron’s to-do list. His fun quota for the night.

“You’ll break up with him now?” Aaron asked.

He nodded.

“Cool.” Aaron offered his phone and repeated, sans the question mark, “Your number.”

“My phone—my telephone. Number. Yes.” Daniel cleared his throat and tried to will his face less frazzled. He nearly dropped the phone, he was shaking so much.

“Go ahead and put the name in as Hard to Get,” Aaron said, peering over his shoulder. “So I know how to find you.”

“Seriously?” Daniel gazed up at him hopelessly. “That was hard to get?”