Page 66 of Give Me What You Will

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, I hate it even more that I took it for so damn long.” He clenched his jaw and shook his head, refusing to dwell on someone who didn’t deserve a second more than the allotted time he got each week.

Sammy seemed to understand and smiled, water glistening over his broad shoulders. “How come you never let on that you liked musicals?”

“Aw, maybe ‘cause I liked seeing you get all silly about them and givin’ you a hard time, because that’s what friends do.”

Sammy chuckled. “I suppose we both had our secrets.”

They stared at one another and he waited, knowing he hadn’t made a mistake in coming here, because he wanted to be here, even if Sammy turned him away again.

“Mom gave you my address, didn’t she?” Sammy asked, walking to the patio table, grabbing a hand towel, and drying his face.

“Yeah, and I brought Papi’s box. The one you left at my place.”

“Hand delivery?” he asked, eyebrows raised.

“Yeah,” he said, tossing his bag into his other hand. “I didn’t think you’d mind.”

Sammy nodded slowly, reaching for the slick glass of ice water on the table next to the speaker, taking a long drink. Everything he did was naturally masculine and sexy.

“You know how much I like surprises,” Sammy said coolly.

Too coolly.

Unfazed, Frankie’s smile widened. “C’mon, Sammy. Admit it—I’m the best kind of surprise.”

Sammy could never resist when he was being charming—except maybe today. Their light banter vanished in a split second. His bright green eyes scanned over him without a trace of emotion. “You’re here because I called.”

He tilted his chin, “Maybe.”

“I shouldn’t have called you. It was a mistake.”

The sting was fast and biting, and he tried to ignore it.

“But you did,” he replied, holding back his frustration at the wall Sammy had just thrown up between them. Frankie hated the fortified barrier that kept Sammy from him at arm's length. All he wanted to do was climb over it and get to the man behind—the real one who called him in a moment of vulnerability, who flirted with him on Fourth of July, who kissed him at Papi’s service. Not this guarded, cagey version, who pretended he didn’t want him.

Because that was what this was. An act—a fuckin’ show to push him away.

“You didn’t need to come here. I’m fine, Frankie,” Sammy bit out.

“I know,” he replied smoothly. “You’re always good, aren’t ya? Until you’re not, and that’s why you got me. That’s how it’s always been.”

“Not anymore.”

“Really?” He strolled over to the patio table and dropped his bag onto it, sliding off his sunglasses so Sammy would see he wasn’t backing down. Not now, not ever again. He was going to fight for him and do whatever it took to break through that wall. “So… you’d be fine if I just left?”

Sammy’s jaw twitched beneath his whiskered cheeks.

He nodded, watching the wall waver but not weaken.

“What if I told you that I’m not just here to deliver Papi’s stuff or check in on you? What if I told you that I’m here for something you promised me…?”

Sammy swallowed, eyes sliding to his lips, his naked chest heaving a deep breath.

“You promised you’d wait for me. That’d you’d be at my house after the fight…” Frankie rounded the table, closing the space between them. “Instead, I was greeted by a dark fuckin’ house and an empty fuckin’ bed.”

Sammy’s gaze dropped, hands fisting and unclenching at his sides.

He had thought long and hard about what he should say and do if Sammy attempted to freeze him out again. Instead of playing nice or walking on eggshells, he had decided he’d treat him like one of his women—the ones who liked to be chased, challenged, and railed all night long. The ones that taunted him and teased him. Because that was what Sammy was doing, whether he realized that or not. Sammy had led him on, flirted and sucked his cock, and told him he wanted him.