Page 29 of Strong Side

“Same thing you’re doing to me.” I plant a soft kiss on his palm and drop his hand. “Come on, let’s get washed up.”

The two of us take turns washing up, and I can see every thought running through his mind playing out on his face.

He’s not as aloof and mysterious as he thinks he is.

Once we’re both clean, Rocky steps out first and wraps a towel around his waist before grabbing an extra one from underneath the sink for me.

He stands at the vanity, hands gripping the counter, as he stares at himself in the mirror. And I know if I let his train of thought run too wild, we’ll be back to the way we were the last two days the moment the steam evaporates from his reflection.

I just need one moment.

Stepping up behind him, I wrap my arms around his lean waist and set my chin on his shoulder so Ican stare at him in the mirror. “You may not be ready, and that’s fine. But just know that this is real for me, Rocky. So, if you can’t tell me that yet, then tell me anything. Anything at all. Tell me something real.”

He closes his eyes for a moment and takes a deep breath. When he opens them, I can tell that everything he wants to say is right on the tip of his tongue, but he doesn’t. Instead, he says softly, “I miss my family. I haven’t seen them since we all drove out here before the school year started. Plane tickets are expensive and none of us have been able to swing it this year. I just… I just really miss them.”

I don’t tell him that I miss mine for an entirely different reason, and instead, I softly smile and say, “Thank you for telling me.”

1. Wicked Games - The Weeknd

18

Mixers Are Overrated

Rockwell

Ivaguely remember dosing off last night in Clay’s arms, but I don’t feel them surrounding me when I finally peel my eyes open. The sun is beaming right in my face, and I know it’s way later than what my alarm is usually set for.

Then I hear the bass of music from outside my room. Getting up, I head into the bathroom to take care of business, brush my teeth real quick, and throw on a pair of shorts. I open my bedroom door and am immediately hit with the smell of sweet pancakes and savory bacon.1 Then Ihear Clay belting at the top of his lungs, “If I Were a Boy” by Beyoncé. I stand in my bedroom doorway, staring into my kitchen, as I lean against the frame just taking him in.

For somebody who fights with anxiety like I know he does, he sure does find happiness in the smallest things.

As he stands at the counter mixing up the pancake batter, I’m busy appreciating a shirtless Clay and the muscles lining his powerful back as he moves the whisk around the bowl.

Thank fuck I don’t have a mixer.

His shorts are slung so low I can see the two little dimples on his lower back right above that juicy fucking ass of his. My eyes roam over the rest of him. He’s in a pair of my five-inch inseam shorts, and they hug his thighs perfectly, making a groan spill past my lips. He turns around to face me, smiling from ear to ear, and I find myself wearing a matching one as I read his apron.

“Good morning, Baby.”

“Kiss me if I look hot in this apron,” I read it out loud and stalk up to him. I pin his back against the back wall, forcing him to put his bowl of batter down as I lean in to kiss him.

It doesn’t feel like the other ones have.

Those were just us being caught up in one another… in the heat of the moment.

This one is everything.

Everything I’ve been keeping locked up tight, battling with him and myself, denying the feelings I never thought I would have for a man.

I grab the back of his head, deepening the kiss. He parts his lips, surprisingly letting me in, and I take the lead for once.

He pulls away, smacking at my chest. “Quit distracting me. I’m going to burn the bacon.”

“I was just following the instructions on the apron.” I shrug, stealing a piece of bacon off the plate. I look over at Clay’s laptop sitting on the counter beside the pancake batter.

“I have a surprise for you.” He’s not looking at me, but I can see the smile still covering his lips. “Look at the screen.”

I lean in and look closer, rolling my eyes. It’s plane tickets. “Okay… What about it? You going on some fancy rich kid vacation for spring break that Daddy is paying for?” I see the hurt pass over his face, but he just shakes his head.

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