Page 75 of Paper Roses

We listen to the clatter of footsteps and then Artie turns to me. “You’re so lovely,” he says with a sigh. He runs his hand up my chest and smiles up at me, admiration in his eyes. It makes me feel ten foot tall.

“Not really.”

“Are you sure? Because you should know I find niceness incredibly erotic.”

“In that case, I am the nicest man in the whole world.”

He laughs and twines his hands behind my head, drawing me down. I go willingly, taking his mouth with a sigh and gathering him into my arms. A locked-tight feeling inside me—one that arose the moment he’d left work earlier—suddenly eases. The kisses lengthen and become more passionate. I’ve just pushed him gently against the wall and I’m fighting with him over who gets to lower my zip when I remember my plans and pull back.

“Where are you going?” His pout is so adorable that I drop a kiss on it. And then another. And another until we’re kissing again.

Finally, I pull away. “Unhand me, you minx.”

He looks far too thrilled at that moniker, and I sigh. I know when I’m fucked.

He smiles at me, his nimble fingers again finding my zipper, behind which is my hard and aching cock.

“No,” I say reluctantly, stopping his hand.

His smile turns sympathetic. “Are you too tired?”

“What?No,” I say in revulsion. “I’m never too tired for sex with you.”

His whole face seems to glow, and I almost end up kissing him again. It’s like he possesses his own sexual tractor beam.

“You’re so lethal you should come with a warning label,” I say.

He chuckles. “What’s up?”

I tug at my collar, feeling hot and constricted. “I’ve done something,” I confess.

His eyes narrow. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you blush before. This must be very interesting. What is it?”

“You might not like it. But I went ahead and booked it even though that might make me an idiot. But in my defence I think you’ll love it, and I love your smile, so I’ll be happy too.” I stop abruptly, horrified at the word salad that just spewed out of my mouth.

His face softens and he rises and kisses me so gently it’s like a butterfly landing on my lips. “If you’ve done something for me, for that reason, I willnevernot like it.”

I cough. “Well, don’t speak too soon.”

“So?” he prompts after a moment of silence. “What is it?”

“I’m taking you to a ballroom dancing class,” I blurt.

“What?” His eyes widen.

“A ballroom dancing class. It’s LGBT,” I add quickly. “I went a few times when my brother and Mei got married, and they wanted us all to know how to dance. It’s a great group and I loved it.” I shift awkwardly. “You said how much you likeStrictly,so I thought we could do this together.” I’m horrified to see that his eyes are glistening. “Oh shit. You don’t have to do it—Ouf!”

My words are cut off when he flings himself into my arms. “That is the nicest thing anyone haseverdone for me.”

“Then you must get out more,” I say gruffly. I hate these careless references he makes to a childhood that sounds so affection- and care-deprived. It makes my heart hurt to think of him like that. I bet he was such a sweet little boy—eager to please and so kind.

He hugs me, and I tug him closer. My grasp is far too tight, but he doesn’t complain. Instead, he just snuggles in, and I rest my head on his, smelling the fragrance of his shampoo. It’s freshand clean like him. Sometimes it feels like he’s this cool breeze that’s blown through my life, getting rid of all the fog of old hurts and guilt.

He pulls back to look up at me. “What should I wear?” he asks eagerly.

I smile, delighted he likes the idea of the class. “Jeans and a T-shirt will be fine. Something comfortable.”

“What about shoes?”

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