“I’m not going to drop you,” he said, sounding offended. “I can lift your weight easily. Shit, I can hip thrust your weight.”
I eyed him. “That’s oddly specific.” I touched his shoulders because I had the opportunity. “What else can you do?”
“Deadlift double your weight —”
“Okay, this conversation’s boring now,” I announced.
“Don’t worry,” he said, smiling as he set me on the bed. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
“As if you could hurt me.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
The Tears
As soon as the words left me, I wished I could take them back. They had sounded a bittoorevealing.
Taylor stood in front of the bed, just watching me.
I needed to cut the tension. “Look,” I said, gesturing at my room. “I was telling the truth. I moved around furniture with Matty.”
“Huh.” His gaze didn’t leave mine.
“You don’t sound impressed.”
“I don’t care about your bedroom layout, Archie.” He wet his lower lip.
“Um.” I felt weird. Probably because nothing was happening. I knew what I wanted to happen, and I didn’t have to look down to know my boner was obvious through my pants.
I waited for Taylor to take his clothes off, but he just stood there, watching me. I opened my mouth to ask him to, but I couldn’t.
Fuck. It hadn’t been awkward the last time we did this. But last time, I didn’t have a chance to feel awkward, because I was being forced — well, “forced”. I had to do all the things he said because that was playing by the rules, being a good sport.
It had been easier to do this when it was a game, a dare, a competition. Now, it felt impossible to say,I want you to have sex with me, and to know that he knew I meant it.
“D’you wanna play that thing again?” I blurted.
“…FIFA?”
“No!” I said. Quietly, I explained, “the competition.”
Emotions flashed over Taylor’s face, too fast to read. He crossed his arms, the corner of his lips tugging up. “Still bitter you lost last time?”
“Piss off. I won before that.”
“That didn’t count.”
“Yeah it did. It’s not my fault you’re a sore loser.”
“It didn’t count, you broke the rules —”
I sighed loudly over him. “Whatever. The point is, do you want a rematch?” My voice went a little high at the end. Maybe it was obvious I felt nervous.
He looked at me. “Sure,” he said, barely a breath. “The rules?”
