Page 74 of Make the Play
“Is it about football?” Emerson asks.
“No,” Jason snorts. “Not this time. I uh, that is, Emerson Miller, will you go to the homecoming dance with me?”
“I am going to the dance with you,” Emerson says.
If possible Jason’s smile widens. “I mean as a date.”
“Oh, no.”
All the air in Jason’s lungs escapes in a single puff of rejection, but he does his best to hide the sharp sting of pain from his expression. If Emerson only wants to be friends then Jason will learn how to handle that. He will do anything to keep Emerson in his life, be whatever he needs. If he only wants a friend, then that’s what Jason will be.
Hell, Jason will be the best goddamn friend Emerson ever had. He will?—
“You can take me out tomorrow, though.”
“Wait, what?” Apparently it's his turn to be confused. “But you said no.”
“Yeah, because we’re chaperoning. We can’t be on a date. It’s work. But,” Emerson pauses, “tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow,” Jason repeats, heart inflating like a hot air balloon. Is Emerson saying yes? Is Emerson going to go on a date with him? Holy shit, is Jason going to have his first date with a man?
“You can take me on a date tomorrow,” Emerson repeats. “If you want.”
“I want. I really fucking want,” Jason affirms, lowering his forehead to Emerson's. “Please.”
“You don’t have to beg, you know,” Emerson points out, but he’s smiling again and Jason feels like he won the lottery. He’s pretty sure he would do anything to keep this beautiful man smiling like this.
“Alright,” Jason whispers.
“You’re still smiling,” Emerson says, the sweetest hint of a smile softening his features.
“Pretty sure I’m going to do it all night. Sorry.”
“I like your smile,” Emerson admits, cheeks flushing pink. “You’re…very handsome.”
“You think I’m handsome?” Jason asks, preening. He spent all week trying to get a read on Emerson, to figure out if he ever caught Emerson checking him out, but either he didn’t or Jason was even more oblivious than his brothers accused him of.
“You have a mirror,” Emerson huffs. “You’re very handsome. And big. And tall. And thick. And handsome. Wait, I said that already.”
“Full permission to talk about how big and handsome you think I am any time.”
“Do you like it?” Emerson asks, head tilting to the side and eyes roaming over Jason.
“I like it when you say it.” Jason knows he’s puffing out his chest, but he can’t stop. Emerson likes that he’s big and thick. Emerson thinks he’s handsome. Jason kind of wants to roll around in the praise. “So you like that I’m big, huh?”
“I do,” Emerson confirms, voice a little quiet and breathy, almost as if he can’t believe he’s saying it out loud. The hand fisted in Jason’s suit jacket loosens so that those long delicate fingers of his skim up Jason's chest until his hand rests there, tapping against the left pec. His eyes lift slowly, so earnest and full of trust. “I like how it feels when you hold me. It’s nice. Safe.”
Safe. That one word is Jason’s undoing. He’s been called a lot of things in his life. Sexy. Handsome. Huge. Built like a brick house. Fun. But that right there? Being safe for Emerson? That’s the best goddamn thing anyone has ever called him.
“Was that wrong?” Emerson asks quietly.
“Nothing about you is wrong, Emmy.” Jason breathes him in, pressing his lips to the top of Emerson’s head. “You are perfect.”
“No, I?—”
“Perfect,” Jason interrupts, refusing to let him argue about this.
“You’re stubborn.”
