“Oh, that’s right! I was at the game,” the girl—Michelle told him. “That was really something.”
Fletcher gave her a polite smile. As polite as he could muster considering she was dragging an arm up and down Taylor’s bicep. “Thanks,” he said plainly. “Room key,” he said, turning to Taylor.
“Go tell the guys we’re heading back,” Taylor told him. He turned back to the girl as he stood up. “Gotta make sure my boy here gets back safely. He has a tendency of cutting the night short if he’s wound up. From the game,” he clarified.
“Of course,” she smiled, looking a little disappointed. “Thanks for the beer.”
Fletcher left the bar as he walked back over to their friends and tapped Douglas on the shoulder. “We’re heading back for the night. Taylor said he’s done for the night.”
“Is he okay?” Pancek asked, sounding like a concerned father.Fletcher quickly nodded and gave him a reassuring smile.
“He’s tired. He didn’t get much sleep before the game.” Which wasn’t a lie.
“Okay. Get him back safely, kid.” Pancek said.
“Will do, Cap.”
Taylor was waiting for him by the entrance. Fletcher walked out past him, so Taylor quickly trailed behind him.
“That was fun,” Taylor said sarcastically as he caught up with Fletcher.
“Don’t talk to me,” Fletcher bit out. “I’m not happy with you.” God, he sounded just like his dad saying that.
“Oh, c’mon, babe,” Taylor goaded. “You’re so fucking cute when you’re jealous.”
“I’m not jealous,” Fletcher muttered. He definitely was, though. Jealous and feeling possessive. “Did you call an Uber?”
“Yeah, just wait here,” Taylor said. He reached out to pull Fletcher’s arm.
Fletcher quickly shrugged him off. “How long?”
“Two minutes,” he answered.
Fletcher refused to look or talk to Taylor as they waited on the sidewalk. It was chilly outside, and Fletcher wished he had brought a jacket with him.
Taylor must’ve noticed him shiver, because he pulled his hoodie off and handed it to Fletcher.
“I don’t need it,” Fletcher told him bitterly.
“Take it,” Taylor told him sharply. “Put it on,” he ordered.
Fletcher couldn’t pretend the authoritativeness in Taylor’s voice didn’t do something to him. He swallowed his pride and took the hoodie and slid it on over his head. It smelled like Taylor. It was warm like Taylor. “Thank you,” Fletcher said softly.
The Uber pulled up and parked on the curb for them. Taylor opened the back door and gestured for Fletcher to get in before sliding in next to him. The driver didn’t speak as they pulled back onto the road. The hotel was a fifteen minute drive away.
“Music okay?” The driver asked in a thick accent. Haitian, Fletcher guessed.
“Sure, man. Go ahead,” Taylor told him.
The driver turned up some sort of French rap music, which wasn’t terrible. The car was dark, only having the light from the streetlights and the radio producing faint shadows of the seats in front of them.
Taylor reached over and placed a hand on Fletcher’s thigh. Fletcher gulped nervously as he tried to remove Taylor’s hand, but Taylor squeezed his thigh and wouldn’t let go.
Fletcher sighed and leaned his forehead against the cold glass of the window for the entire car ride.
“Thank you,” Taylor told him as they slipped out of the car and slammed the door shut.
He walked ahead of Fletcher, who followed him to the elevator. Once the two of them were inside and slowly moving up, Taylor roughly grabbed Fletcher’s jaw and leaned down to kiss him. Fletcher let out a whimper after being blindsided by the kiss.
