Page 22 of Taylor
He blinks a few times and looks around the room as he tries to gather his thoughts. “I hate that everyone’s looking at you like you’re some kind of thug just because you’ve got somebruises.”
“I hadn’t noticed,” I admit as I stare directly at him. “My focus has solely been on you.” His mouth drops open a little but I see the corner of his liptwitch.
“Is thatso?”
“My focus is always on you. You’re always the best looking man in any room and the only one whose bed I want to end upin.”
Caleb
The past week’sbeen pretty incredible. Taylor’s been everything I hoped and imagined he’d be. I’ve seen no sign of him wanting anyone else but me, and I couldn’t be happier. Sex with him is like nothing I’ve ever experienced before. It’s intense. It’s not always rough like he warned me about, though; there are moments when he’s the most gentle and loving guy—the kind of guy I told myself I wanted but convinced myself that Taylor would never be. He holds my hand while we’re watching TV at night. He stops and gives me little kisses just because he feels like it. Everything he does strengthens my thoughts about him being the one. If only I could fully trust him. I still have this nagging feeling that he doesn’t really want this, that he’s going to get bored of me and want to go and find someoneelse.
“You’ve got two minutes to get your naked arse into the bedroom,” Taylor growls in my ear. “The washing up canwait.”
Thankfully, I’ve only had a couple of jobs this week and they’ve both been in London. It’s meant we’ve been able to spend as much time together as possible as we both try to adjust to the new us. Taylor seems to have easily fallen into our new routine, involving him sleeping in my room every night instead of his own. I seem to be finding myself questioning everything a little too much. It’s like I’m trying to find any excuse possible to prove he doesn’t want this. I fucking hate it and I wish I could just enjoy what I’ve got instead of looking for clues about what’s possibly going to happen tomorrow, next week, or nextmonth.
I turn and dry my hands on the tea towel as I watch Taylor pull his t-shirt off as he disappears into my bedroom. I follow suit and I’m only in my boxers when I go to step into the room. Unfortunately, a knock on the front door halts myprogress.
I pull the door open and find two people I was not expecting looking back atme.
“Mum, Dad. What’re you doinghere?”
“We came down to help Beth out with some last minute wedding plans and thought we’d stop in on the way home. Are you going to invite us in?” Mum asks, taking a small step towards me. I don’t get to respond though, because another voice sounds out through theflat.
“I said you have two minutes to get your sexy arse in here; what’s the hold—oh!”
Mum’s eyes go over my shoulder before she gaspsoh my Godand covers her mouth with her hand. Dad looks over my shoulder for a second before he raises his eyes to theceiling.
“Fuck, I’ll go get dressed,” Taylor announces, and I turn around just in time to see his naked arse disappear back in thebedroom.
Fuck, fuck, fuck. This was so not how I wanted to have this conversation with myparents.
“I think you should probably do the same, don’t you, son?” Dad suggests as he brings his eyes back down tome.
I walk over to where I discarded my clothes not so long ago and pull them on as Mum and Dad walk sheepishly into theapartment.
“Tea,coffee?”
“Yes please,” Dad says, as Mum is still stood looking shell-shocked.
“Are you still coming to Paris this weekend?” Mum asks, speaking for the first time, but my answer gets interrupted by Taylor’sarrival.
“I’m so sorry aboutthat.”
“I made you acoffee.”
“I was actually going to head out…give you guys somepeace.”
“No, that’snot—”
“I think that’s for the best,” Dadinterrupts.
Before I have a chance to argue, Taylor is out of the door, leaving me alone with them. I’m not ashamed or embarrassed in any way about my life; there’s just something ingrained in me that doesn’t want to disappoint my parents, although I’m well aware I need to man up and tell them who I reallyam.
“So…” Mum prompts, “Are you still coming to your sister’s wedding?” It pisses me off somewhat that her main concern here is whether or not I’m going to cause drama at the wedding she’s been waitingfor.
“Of course I’m still coming. It’s my sister’s wedding. I wouldn’t miss it for theworld.”
“And what abouthim?”
