Page 96 of The Hopelessly Bromantic Duet
He pokes my chest with his finger. “You’re a great actor, and I can’t wait to seePillow Talktonight. But I figured out what you were doing because it’s my job to read people. To understand their motivations. To look beneath the surface. And I’m prettysure you wanted to charm me,” he says, reading me like an open book. Then he spreads his hand across my pecs, stretching his fingers over my skin and gliding down my chest, over my abs. “But don’t you know? You already did.”
My pulse surges, and I go for it. Jumping. “Maybe I wanted to keep charming you last night.”
TJ locks eyes with me. Holds my gaze. Then he asks, in measured words, “Do you? Do you want tokeepcharming me?”
There he goes again. Speaking in subtext. I know what he’s asking, and I was worried yesterday because I didn’t know if he’d feel the same way, orwantwith the same passion I do. Now, after a night with him, I know one truth—the years didn’t erase this thing between us. “I do want to,” I say, and it’s as much of an admission as I’ll make.
It’s not a commitment. It’s an acknowledgment of the here and now.
His lips twitch in a grin. A devilishly satisfied one. “Then let’s do London again. This weekend.”
“London in Los Angeles?” I ask with a laugh.
“Let’s be who we were. No bullshit. No trying to impress each other.” He holds my gaze, asking with his eyes for me to be honest too.
“I hope you know, way back when, I was trying to impress you in London,” I admit. “I totally wanted to get in your pants.”
He laughs. “Dude, it drove me crazy every day how much I wanted you. But you know what I mean. Let’s be ourselves. Like how we were when we went thrifting, when we went out for beer, when we went shopping for the shower curtain.”
I fling a hand to my head dramatically. “The awful day I learned you hate rubber ducks,” I say.
He grabs my waist, hauls me close. “Some things change over the years. Maybe I don’t hate them anymore.”
I arch a brow. “Do you have a rubber duck fetish now?”
TJ dips his face near mine, then drops away from my lips, dusting a kiss to my jaw. “I might.” His lips travel along my chin. Then under it. Then along my neck. “I have to tell you something.”
I tense, worry flashing through me. “Okay?”
His soft lips return to my neck, coasting near my ear. “You were also really good inOur Secret Courtship.”
I flinch. “What? You watched the show?”
He pulls back, looking a little sheepish. “I watched every episode. The ones you were in, I watched maybe five times.”
Who’s the sun now? I’m hot everywhere. “You really did?”
He nods. “I kept hoping there’d be a scene with you and that stable guy. But then, I alsodidn’twant to see a scene with you and the stable guy, if you get my meaning.”
“Oh, I definitely get it. I was terrified to read your first gay romance. Terrified but secretly turned on.”
“So you really read my books?” He sounds shocked, maybe a little awed. Which is odd since I just quoted him back to him.
But then, this fits the TJ I knew. The TJ who had to leave the flat when I read his chapters. He’s never quite believed in himself. “Most of them. Not the most recent one.”
“Good. Don’t readTop-Notch Boyfriend,” he says quickly, like he needs to cut that notion off at the knees.
“I won’t,” I say, since I can’t stand the thought of reading something that chicken peddler inspired. “But I lovedHappy Trail. I wish I could play a rancher getting it on with his rival. Holy fuck, those scenes at the lake were scorching.”
“I seriously can’t believe you read that book. Or any. I just... can’t.”
“Why are you so surprised? I just recited lines from your books. Did you think I just found them on the Internet this morning to call you out?”
He shrugs, like he can’t quite believe it. “Kind of?”
“You really thought I googled them?”
He holds up a thumb and forefinger.