Page 60 of A Fool's Game

I fight back a smile as he rightly calls me out. “So you’ll agree tothe truce?”

“Is that what I said?”

“No, but it seems like what you meant. And besides, what choice do you have? I’m not going anywhere. We’re going to end up in that bed together again?—”

“If you’re lucky,” he cuts me off, smirking.

And maybe it’s that egotistical look on his face, like he’s the one with all the power, but I need to bite back. “Yeah, well, that’s the thing. I am pretty lucky. I’m not sure if you’ve noticed.”

He grunts out what could be a laugh or a curse, turning back to the stove, where he’s babysitting a pan of cooking onions far more than seems necessary.

“Okay. A truce it is,” I announce, tapping my finger against my chin theatrically, remembering too late it’s covered in flour. I quickly clean my face with my sleeve. “You’re going to stop being such an arrogant prick all the time,” I start.

“And what are you going to do?” Taylor says, taking a step closer to where I still lean against the counter.

He brings with him a certain heat, an intensity that wafts from him like vapor.

I try to take a step back but there’s nowhere for me to go.

“What…what do you want me to do?” I try to force my voice to be confident, steady, but I fail miserably.

He smirks again, taking another step toward me. “I want you to calm the fuck down when we’re in her bed together.”

My mouth falls open, and I snap it shut. “Well, you’ve gotta stop trying to put your tongue in my mouth.”

His eyebrows go sky-high, but he doesn’t step back. “Why?”

It takes me a moment to process the question, and when I do, I still can’t find any words that don’t sound completely idiotic.

So I go ahead and say something completely idiotic. “Because I’m not gay.”

Taylor’s smirk deepens as I fall right into his trap. “You think I’m gay?”

“I don’t know,” I sputter. “Aren’t you?”

His eyes narrow as he clearly considers my fate.Then he seems to change his mind, shrugging and turning back to the stove. “Why does anyone have to be anything? Why do you need to label everything?”

“I don’t need to label everything,” I say quickly, even as it registers in my mind that I do, indeed, have a clearly defined label for everything in my life.It’s what I’m digging for right now. A label for this relationship. My relationship with Gem, my relationship with Taylor, our relationship as a threesome.

Threesome isn’t actually a terrible label. If he fails to help me out here, I might just go with that.

“What are you going to tell your dad?” he asks suddenly.

I cringe before I can catch myself. I fix my face quickly, but I know Taylor saw.

“What do you tell your parents?” Maybe turning it back on him will take the heat off me, but he’s too smart to allow me to wriggle off the hook so easily.

“You ever let a guy suck you off before?”

I sputter but am unable to make a single intelligible word come out.

Taylor looks like it’s his damn birthday. “In all those fancy school locker rooms and sleepover camps? Weren’t you ever curious?”

“No.” My confidence rises as I finally manage to speak. I should quit while I’m ahead but, of course, I don’t. “I mean…no. I never… What? Jesus man, you’re talking about children. What’s wrong with you?”

Taylor just shakes his head. “The pretty boy doth protesttoo much.” He slides the pan off the flame and turns back to me, grinning. “Methinks.”

I’ve got to get out of here. “I’m going to go see if the girls need help…with…setting the table.”

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