Page 27 of Strong Side

Rocky’s eyes search my face for a moment before he chuckles lowly and shakes his head. Turning on his heels, he starts walking up the stairs. “Come on, Betty Crocker.”

Indifferent, my ass.

1. TOO LATE - Chase Atlantic

17

Tell Me Something Real

Clayton

When I say I could not have pictured a more Rockyesque apartment if I tried, I’m not lying.

Rocky’s apartment is entirely open concept, save for what I’m assuming is his bedroom and bathroom in the far corner. All the walls are made entirely of dark brick, with one of them containing large windows above Delectable Dessert’s sign out front. There’s a large gray rug in the living room, and on top of it sits a dark brown leather sectional and a natural wood coffee table. A large flat-screen TV sits opposite the sectional, and next to itis a shelf with dozens of books. There are several potted plants throughout the space along with a plethora of framed pictures of what I’m assuming is his family.

And his kitchen…ThethingsI could cook in this kitchen.

The black kitchen cabinets match the matte black vent hood that climbs up the wall. There are several natural wood open shelves on either side of the vent hood and matching counter tops. The large kitchen island has three wood and iron stools and a matte black three-light pendant fixture hanging above it.

I can feel myself practically drooling just looking at it.

However, upon closer inspection, I notice that not a single kitchen appliance is sitting on the counters beside a coffee pot, and the open shelves are practically bare besides some basic crockery.

He doesn’t even use the damn thing.

What a fucking travesty.

Rocky steps into my line of sight and leans against the kitchen counter, crossing his arms across his chest and tipping his head to the side as he stares at me.

The sight of him in this kitchen is enough to make my dick twitch in my jeans.

“Any of that need to go in a fridge?” He nods to the several brown paper bags in my hands.

“Just a few things.”

“Go ahead and put them in the fridge, and you can just set the rest of it on the counter. I’m gonna go grab a quick shower,” he says as he throws his thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the room in the corner. “Feel free to grab something to drink while you're in there and turn on the TV. The remote’s on the coffee table.”

Rocky grabs his duffle from the floor and walks into his room, leaving the door open a crack behind him. Doing as he says I set the grocery bags on the kitchen island and put the necessary items in the fridge. Just as I close it I hear the chime of a text ring through the room. I spot Rocky’s phone face down on the island next to my grocery bags, and in two long strides, I’m at the edge of the counter staring down at it.

I reach out to grab the phone but my hand stops mid-air. What if it’s someone else he’s hooking up with? There’s no way I could handle that without flying off the handle. But…what if it’s someone else he’s hooking up with?Reaching out further, I grip the phone between my fingertips, only to pause once more before lifting it off the counter.

“Don’t do it, Clayton,”my subconscious screams at me.“It’s an invasion of privacy.”

Yeah… well… he lost his chance at privacy when he let me hear the sounds he makes when he comes.

Flipping the phone over, an incoming text from someone namedIrmãfills the screen. Just as I’m mentally preparing myself for a metaphorical kick to the balls, I’m quickly met with the absolute best possible scenario.

Irmã

Did you guys fuck yet or are you still being a little bitch about it? We both know how much you want him. Grow a pair and get after it.

I promised I wouldn’t tell anyone, and I’ll keep that promise. But just know that whenever you’re ready, no matter what you decide you are… we will all always love you, Irmão. You just have to let yourself be loved back.

The first thought that races through my mind is, “Holy fucking shit. He told someone about the way he feels about me.”

But before I have a chance to jump up and down in excitement, the same thought races through my head. Yet this time, it’s in a different tone. Jealous. Darker.

He told someone about the way he feels about me.

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