Gio laughs. "Aha. There it is." He points at me. "So you are seeing this as something sexual."
I literally turn away so I don’t throw something at him. God, I hate when people try to outsmart me. Hate it. Hate it even more when they succeed.
He keeps going.
"You know, I’ve got straight friends at the gym."
He’s digging through drawers now, still shirtless.
"They’re super chilled about touching. Spotting each other, checking form, grabbing arms, whatever. They don’t freak out. They know touching me doesn’t mean they want me."
I clench my jaw. He pauses. Looks at me from head to toe. "You, on the other hand…"
I whip around. "Cut it."
Okay. Fine. If that’s what his straight friends do, then maybe that’s what I have to do too.
I take a breath, roll my shoulders back. He raises an eyebrow, amused. I grab his arm first, using both hands.
I slide down from shoulder to wrist, squeezing hard. Then I nod like I’m inspecting produce at a supermarket.
"Right. Sure. Okay." I grab his other arm. Same thing. Up, down, slow, thorough. Then I place both hands on his shoulders. My thumbs keep pressing into the muscle. He’s warm.
I pretend I’m not dying. His chest now. God help me. I put my palms flat on it and squeeze. Not gently.
Literally like I’m trying to prove a point. He inhales sharply. I pretend not to notice. Then I drag my hand down.
Over his ribs. His abs. My fingers follow every line.
When I reach his waistband, I stop.
Look up at him, dead serious.
"Is this straight enough for you?"
He stares back at me. "I love how straight you are."
He pulls his shirt on, still smiling to himself. "Good," I mutter, stepping back. "Now get dressed properly. We’re late."
He laughs under his breath as he fixes his collar. "You’re the slowest asshole I’ve ever met," I say.
"Even your damn cat gets ready faster."
He grins without looking up. "Relax, fake boyfriend. You’ll still be the prettiest one there."
"Fake boyfriend, my ass. I’m only doing this with you ’cause unfortunatelyyouwere the one that Sophia chose to sext."
"And because you secretly love spending time with me."
I snort. "The day I love spending time with you, shoot me in the face."
"Hey. Don’t tempt me."
"Just get dressed, Gio. Jesus."
He fixes his hair. "You’re acting like this isn’t our first date." "It’s not. It’s not even a date. It’s damage control."
"Oh, baby," he says, hand on his chest in mock offense. "If it wasn’t for the meetings, you wouldn’t have the balls to get within five feet of me."
