“Since I was a kid,” he said with a slight shake of his head. “You’d think all the team flights would’ve cured me by now, but nope.”
“How did I not know that?”
I used to know everything about him—or, at least, I thought I did. His favorite songs, the way he took his coffee, and how he got quiet when he was overwhelmed. And I’d missed something this fundamental? What else had I never noticed?
Taylor shrugged. “It’s not a big deal.”
“It looked like a pretty big deal. You were white as a sheet.” I avoided mentioning the fact that he’d also had his teeth clamped around his lip.I didn’t want to remindeitherof us of that moment.
Last night and this morning, I’d been free to touch Taylor however and whenever I wanted. But the moment we stepped onto the elevator, I had to rein myself in—something I’d never had trouble with before. But with him, I struggled to remember how to behave. I wanted my hands on him constantly.
He waved away my concern. “I’m fine, Seb. Really. Just a big baby about flying.”
Taylor wasn’t Wyatt—not even close—but his obvious brush-off landed the same way it did from the other man, and I hated how fast my mood soured. “If you say so,” I responded, reaching for my iPad.
Taylor nudged me with his arm. “Hey,” he whispered. “I didn’t mean to shut you down. I just … I guess I’m not used to people worrying about me.”
“But I’m not just ‘people,’ Taylor.”
I hated the petulance in my voice, but couldn’t seem to help it. I was all over the place—wanting too much, feeling too much. This wasn’t like me. I didn’t know how to be this vulnerable and stay composed.
“No, you’re not,” he said, dropping his eyes down to stare at his hands and picking at the rough skin around his fingernail beds.
“Let’s not do this here.”
I didn’t want to have what should be a private conversation in a very public space.
“You’re right,” he sighed, glancing down at my screen, which currently showed “No Availability” in red text next to every hotel within a ten-mile radius of Kennebunkport.
“Would you want to stay with me?” he asked, his voice uncertain. “I’ve got plenty of space.”
“I couldn’t impose.”
“Impose?” His voice went up an octave. “Sebastian, you’re not some random guy I met in Vegas. You’re… well … not that.” He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. “Besides, it’s not like The Money Pit is small. I have like four guest rooms.”
Guest rooms.
“So I’d get my own room?” I asked, needing clarification.
Was this his way of setting boundaries before I even arrived? Telling me we could hang out and fuck, but he wasn’t going to let me in? I needed to know what I was walking into here.
Taylor’s eyes widened slightly as if only just now realizing what he'd implied, and then a slow smile spread across hisface. “I mean, youcouldhave your own room if that's what you wanted. But I was kind of hoping you'd want to sleep in mine.”
My pissy attitude evaporated in an instant. “I didn’t want to presume.”
“Presume away. Mi casa es su casa, and all that.”
“Be careful, or you might not be able to get rid of me,” I joked.
Taylor chuckled, and when he chewed his lip this time, it wasn’t with fright. His gaze stayed locked with mine, his eyes dark and full of longing.
I felt my cheeks flush, and my pulse spike as I stared back at him, imagining what it would be like to drop all the pretenses and just … be with him, in the open.
How had inviting him up to my room last night for a quick fuck turn into something else entirely?
“You okay?” Taylor asked, and I realized I’d been staring at him without speaking for several long seconds.
“Yeah,” I said, though it was far from the truth.
