“Are you kidding?” I ask.
How can he not see it? Does he even realize how hot he is?
“Why?” he asks again, clearly not getting any of it.
“I can’t believe you have to ask. Do you remember our conversation last week?”
It dawns on him, and maybe he gets how hot he is. “Are you still thinking about that?” he asks carefully.
“How could I not when you’re here?”
He smiles, but only slightly, lifting up on his toes, rubbing his body against me in the process. “Anyone could see us.”
I suck in a breath, my cock getting harder. “And?”
“And what if they take a picture or someone recognizes you?”
I slip my hand into his. “I knew that risk when we started this.”
“We thought it wouldn’t get out.” He glances at our hands.
“With Mark knowing that was foolish.”
“But it’s better kept contained.” Does he not want to be seen with me?
What is he worried about? Surely he’d rather be out than us hiding? He said he likes bigger guys who can toss him around. I have that going for me. So why isn’t he into it?
I need to show him I could be an amazing boyfriend, so he sees me as more than a friend.
We get off the train near the edge of Central Park, taking the stairs up.
He looks around. “What do you want to do in the park?”
I smirk, leading him by the hand into the park and taking the winding path until we come upon the roller disco. “It’s Pride Night.”
He glances around before turning back to me. “You want to skate on our one day off skating?” But he doesn’t say it meanly. He’s smiling.
“It’s not the same.” I offer my hand. “This is for fun.”
“If you break an ankle…”
I press my lips together, giving him a flat look. “I’m not going to break an ankle.”
He puts his hand in mine. “You really want to be out here in the open, on Pride Night.”
I drag him to the skate rental booth. “Will you stop fucking asking me that? You’re acting like the one in the closet.”
“I’m not trying to.”
“Then why are you so worried?”
He starts to answer, but we’re next in line and asked for our sizes.
“Fourteen,” I say, praying they’ll have the ridiculous size or at least close.
The guy behind the counter grits his teeth. “Maybe. Let me check.” He hesitates. “Wait, aren’t you, Wolfe?”
I wink. “Different kind of skating today.”
