“I’m not rich,” Fletcher told him seriously. “My family may be, but I’ve been cut off since September. For obvious reasons.”
Taylor moved his hand up to cup Fletcher’s cheek before pulling him into a hug. He kept laughing as he wrapped his arms around Fletcher’s back. “I’m sorry,” Taylor tried to apologize in between laughs. “It’s nice. I promise. It’s so nice, honey.”
Fletcher pulled back and looked at Taylor, like he didn’t believe him. “I thought poor people were supposed to be humble,” he told Taylor sarcastically. Taylor was still laughing.
“Honey, I may have been poor but never,” he motioned around the room and nearly folded over in laughter. “I think the funniest thing about it is the TV being comically large.”
He looked back at Fletcher, who glared at him. “Like that fucking iPad,” Taylor cried out in laughter.
Fletcher looked more concerned than offended. “I think you need a nap, big guy.”
He was probably right. Taylor hadn’t really slept in two days. Slept well.
“We’ll go to bed early,” Taylor suggested. “It’s too late in the afternoon for a nap.”
Fletcher looked down at his watch. “Jesus, I didn’t realize it was seven already. I swear it doesn’t get dark until like eight during the summer.”
Taylor forced himself to calm down as he walked over to look out the window. At least Fletcher had a decent view of a small park across the street.
“What do you want to do for dinner?” Fletcher asked him.
“What’s good around here?”
Fletcher started firing off a bunch of different restaurants, but Taylor stopped him the moment he heard Mediterranean food.
“I knew you were going to say that” Fletcher laughed.
“What’s your favorite?” Taylor asked him. Fletcher plopped down on the couch and patted the spot next to him for Taylor to sit. Fletcher turned a little so Taylor could lean up against him and stretch his long legs out onto the couch.
“Probably seafood,” Fletcher answered with a shrug.
“Oh, that’s right. Because you’re a Floridian,” Taylor joked.
Fletcher laughed as he ran his fingers through Taylor’s hair. “You’re hilarious.” He continued to brush Taylor’s hair back andTaylor closed his eyes and sighed.
“That feels nice,” he told him.
“Your hair’s gotten so long. You think you’ll keep growing it out?” he asked Taylor.
“Probably. I don’t have a reason to cut it.” Honestly, Taylor felt like the happier he was, the longer he would let his hair grow out. When he was younger, he kept it long like Jesse and Mandy do, but he buzzed all his hair off when his dad passed away. After that, he kept it fairly short because he didn’t want to deal with it while playing hockey.
“Do you want me to cut it?” Taylor asked him.
“Please don’t,” Fletcher replied. “I like it long. I think you’d look cute with a man bun.”
“No, I wouldn’t,” Taylor scoffed. “I think man buns are weird. I’d probably braid it back once it’s long enough like Jesse does.”
Fletcher grabbed his jaw and tilted Taylor’s head up to kiss him. “It’ll give me something to grab onto tonight,” he told him with a smirk.
Taylor felt his face flush. “Tonight’s the night?” he asked Fletcher nervously.
Fletcher’s face brightened with excitement once he understood what Taylor meant. He leaned down and gave him another quick kiss. “Tonight’s the night.”
33
The Flip Game
Taylor told Fletcher that they could do seafood for dinner, but Fletcher shook his head and told him that he knew a really good Mediterranean place nearby. Fletcher couldn’t believe Taylor had never been to a Cava before, but there weren’t any in Seattle or Sacramento, Taylor told him.
