I shoved a forkful of pasta into my mouth, felt my throat spasm in protest, and hurriedly chugged down a glass of water so I didn’t choke in front of Taylor like a moron. My eyes were watering. I blinked the tears away.
“How’s your bedroom?” I asked. It was the first thing I could think of.
“The jail cell is still a jail cell, thanks for asking.”
I clicked my tongue. “You know what they say, the early bird gets the worm.”
Taylor finished his meal, and placed the utensils neatly in the middle of the bowl. He gazed at me, blinking slowly like a reptile. “I won’t sleep in that room forever.”
“If you’re asking me to swap again, the answer’s no, so don’t even bother.”
“We could share.”
This time, I was thankful I wasn’t chewing, because I definitely would’ve choked. Heat flashed through me. “W-what?”
“We’d fit.” Another slow blink.
“I — we — w-what are you t-tryna —”
He laughed. “I’m kidding. Jeez. Don’t look so horrified. Are you finished?” He stood up, clearing the table. “I’ll wash up.”
CHAPTER SIX
The Game
One day, I came back from class to find Taylor kneeling on the floor, ass in the air as he fiddled with the cords underneath the TV. I let myself look at his glutes and the stretch of his hamstrings — for purely normal reasons, of course, I needed motivation to hit legs at the gym — then cleared my throat. “What are you doing?”
Taylor didn’t look up. “A friend gave me this.” He gestured at a gaming console sitting on the rug beside him. “I’m trying to figure out how to connect it.”
“A friend,” I repeated.
“Emery. You met him. He came over for drinks.”
He must’ve been one of the guys who’d played Never Have I Ever. I didn’t remember much about him, just a blurry face.
“Do you often get expensive gifts from friends?” I asked, plonking myself on the couch.
“It’s not expensive and he wanted to get rid of it. It’s last year’s version.”
“Right.”
“Emery’s sweet.”
I harrumphed. “I’ve never heard you describe someone as sweet before.”
Taylor glared at me from over his shoulder, which was quite a sight, since his backside was still in the air. “He’s sweet unlikesomeone I know. Anyway, better I take the console rather than someone else, who’ll use it as an excuse to take advantage of his generosity and ask for more and more.”
I harrumphed again. This Emery guy sounded annoying.
“What do you want with a console, anyway?” I asked.
“To play FIFA. Obviously.” At my confused look, he continued, “guys on my team played after training and I —” a muscle in his jaw flickered “— came last.”
I laughed. “So you need to practice?”
