Page 29 of Survivor
Chapter Twenty-Two
Taylor
“Would you take a minute and think? Are you sure about this?” Frank asked him, for probably the fifteenth time since they’d boarded the plane at the Vineyard. “Moving in with me is a big step, Tay, especially when we’ve only officially been a couple for three weeks.”
Taylor refused the bone-deep need to roll his eyes and club Frank over the head, then drag him back to his apartment like a fucking caveman.Me Tarzan, you Jane.A soft chuckle squeezed its way out and Frank shot him an incredulous look. Uncomfortable silence was not something Taylor was willing to allow, so when Frank fell quiet and folded his arms over his chest, staring out the window of the truck, Taylor pulled over to the side of I-35.
“Taylor, what are you doing?” He reached for Frank, taking his face in his hands and leaning in for a slow but chaste kiss. Taylor could feel some of the tension in Frank’s posture ebb away, his shoulders relaxing.
“I told you the first night, Frank, you need to understand thatthis, us, is what I want. It’s what I’ve wanted for a long time, and I refuse to live one more day without you in my arms, in my life, and in my bed.”Pause for reaction.The slow smile did wonders for Frank’s features and Taylor stole one more kiss before putting his seat belt back on and merging into traffic.
Summers spent at Martha’s Vineyard had always come and gone quickly, but this summer especially had flown by. Everything looked different, felt different, experiencing it for the first time with Frank as his boyfriend. Walks on the beach holding hands, sailing, visiting the lighthouse, and falling asleep every damn night with Frank in his arms were just a drop in the bucket. Now that they were returning to the real world, Frank would be going back to work and Taylor would be job hunting. They’d be living under the same roof, but they wouldn’t be together as much as Taylor had gotten used to the past three weeks. Damn, being an adult sucked sometimes.
“Taylor, babe, what’s wrong?” Frank reached over and squeezed his leg. Taylor adjusted his grip on the steering wheel so he could drive with one hand, lacing his fingers with Frank’s resting on his thigh.
“It’s nothing, really, just stupid insecurities.” Lifting their joined hands, he kissed Frank’s fingers.
“Stop trying to distract me.” Frank squinted at him, attempting to look menacing. It wasn’t working.
Laughing, Taylor took the Preston Road exit. “We’re almost home; we can start dinner and talk then.”
“You do realize I’ve been gone for three weeks, right? There is nothing in my fridge that wouldn’t keep. We’ll have to either go shopping or order takeout.” Frank’s phone beeped and he had to let go of Taylor’s hand to pull it from the pocket of his jeans. Taylor was pretty sure who the text was from and what it said. His suspicion was confirmed a minute later when Frank looked up and glared at him. “Taylor, what did you do?”
“What?”Taylor looked his way briefly, feigning innocence before his eyes moved back to the road. Traffic was slow and he didn’t want to rear-end another driver because he wasn’t watching the road.
“I just got a text message from Justine that reads, ‘Dinner is in the fridge, just warm it for fifteen minutes in the oven and have a great night!’ What in the hell is she talking about, Taylor?”
“I may have asked her to pick up a few things and take them to your place last night so there would be food in the fridge when we got home today.” The light turned red and Taylor pressed on the brake, flashing Frank an award-winning smile.
He knew Caleb had a key to Frank’s place in case of emergencies, so Taylor had emailed Justine to see if she minded borrowing the key and picking up a list of items he’d attached to the email. She’d responded in less than five minutes, just two words and twelve exclamation points:Of course!!!!!!!!!!!!
“Please tell me you didn’t send my best friend’s wife to the grocery store to shop for us.” Frank groaned.
Taylor chuckled, pulling through the security gate and taking the parking spot beside Frank’s Jeep. “No babe, I only asked for a few things so we could make dinner tonight and milk for cereal tomorrow. We can go grocery shopping tomorrow or the next day,” he assured Frank, climbing out of the truck and unloading the few bags they had from the back. What he didn’t tell Frank was that he’d had most of the things from his place in Austin delivered to Frank’s apartment. Justine had been there to let them in that day as well.
Frank unlocked the front door and walked through first, stopping just a few feet inside the apartment. “What the…”
Taylor pushed Frank far enough into the apartment with his body that he could kick the door shut, then peeked around him. Frank had a two-bedroom apartment with an open floor plan and the first thing you saw walking in was the pub-style dining table and six chairs. There was a bar between that area and the kitchen, and off to the right, between the two bedrooms, was the living room. There were two tall crystal candle holders and a bouquet of long-stemmed roses with baby’s breath in a crystal vase sitting in the middle of the table; two complete place settings were already out. Walking farther into the apartment, Frank snatched the note sitting on one of the plates and read it out loud, which was unnecessary since Taylor was reading it over his shoulder.
Welcome home, boys! The table is set, as you can see, and matches to light the candles are right in front of you. The Pyrex container on the top shelf in the fridge is homemade lasagna, just preheat the oven to 350, then bake for fifteen minutes. There is a loaf of French bread on top of the fridge if you want to slice and toast it for garlic bread, a bottle of red wine on the cabinet by the stove, and tiramisu for dessert.
Enjoy your first night together at home.
Much love, Justine
Grabbing the box of matches, Taylor struck one and lit the two candles. “You did all this for me?” Frank sounded amazed.
“No.…Well, yes.” Taylor came around the table and draped his arms over Frank’s shoulders. “I wanted to do something special for our first night home.” He bent and kissed Frank.
“You are an amazing man, Taylor Langford. I don’t know what I did to deserve you but now that I have you, I’ll never let go.” The kiss they shared was soft and supple and perfect. Nothing could make this night any better. “I love you, Taylor,” Frank whispered, and damn. If that wasn’t better, Taylor didn’t know what was.
When Taylor went to pull away, Frank followed, biting down on his bottom lip. He took Frank’s face in his hands and slanted his mouth over Frank’s deepening the kiss. It pained Taylor, but he had to break the kiss, otherwise they might never get around to dinner. “Let’s warm up the food and have a glass of wine.”
When they were sitting down to eat it was Frank, not Taylor, who dimmed the lights and turned on some slow jazz music. The dish that held their meal was still hot from the oven, so Taylor put on one of the large oven mitts he found in the drawer beside the stove and served them each a large portion, then carried it back into the kitchen, returning with a plate of garlic bread. Neither spoke for a few minutes—the sounds of forks on plates and appreciative moans because the food was just that good the only noise either of them made. Taylor found he was okay with simply sitting and having dinner with Frank without the need to fill the silence. Instead, he watched Frank eat, reaching across the table and wiping a dollop of sauce off Frank’s cheek, sucking it off his thumb and watching heat flare in his lover’s eyes. Yeah, he was so going to love this living together thing.
Frank spoke first, around a mouthful of garlic bread. “So, when are you going to move your stuff in, Tay?” Heat bloomed in Taylor’s groin. He could not for the life of him figure out what it was about hearing Frank shorten his name that turned him on so fucking much.
“About that,” Taylor teased.
