“You know what I find ironic? My homophobic mother offersyou her cabbage rolls as a truce and you respond by asking her ifit was 'tacit approval' to suck my cock.”“She shoved a phallic symbol my way and told me to eat it.”

“Are you in love with me?" I asked, grinding my nails into my palms."Yes," he said simply. "But not yet”

“Whiskey, glass, pour, toss back, glare. Repeat. “Cop out,” I slurred in retaliation, pointing the empty glass at Peter.“Don’t get drunk. Fuck. I need you sober,” he yelled, snatching the glass out of my hand.“There’s the problem right there. You need me sober. You need my help. You need something from me.” I laughed, tossing the bottle on the sofa, ignoring the glug glug glug as it emptied over my cushions. “And I just need you.”“Need me to what?” He asked with a huff, tipping the bottle right-side up.“Nothing. I just need you,” I whispered and flopped into a nearby recliner.”

“You're rich, spoiled and used to getting your own way." "Not true. If I had my own way you would have kissed me and ridden me like a cowboy while screaming 'yeehaw'.”

“Ask me for money, Peter.” I grabbed his wrists and pushed him against the wall.He looked everywhere but at me, no attempt to free himself. He was definitely stronger than I, but right that second I didn’t care if he was being patronizing. If it forced him to answer me, then patronizing I’d take.“No,” he murmured.“Ask me for money, goddamn you.” I punctuated it with a slam of his wrists, hard enough to jar, but not painful—I hoped. The next time my shirt wouldn’t be there to cushion it. I wasthat pissed.“I have!” He spat back, easily extricating his hands and pushing me away. I grabbed his arm, turning him around.“For Cai. For sex. Not for you. You’d rather go fuck a bunch of strangers—”“I don’t fuck anyone but Darryl anymore,” he denied. “It’s just a show for a bunch of voyeurs. No one gets hurt.”“I get hurt!”“I don’t have any other way, Austin.”“You have me. Ask me,” I said, hating the pleading sound in my voice.“No.”“Jesus Christ, why the fuck not?”“Because I don’t want you to be a fucking trick!” The shout was so loud I felt the vibrations along my spine.”

“I like you,” I said honestly. “Even though you’re probably a criminal and are going to get me thrown off the force. And you kicked me. Broke my nose. Made me gay and refused to kiss me.”

“When Peter said he was romantic, it was in the way that I was romantic. A blow job and an “I love you” before rolling over and falling asleep.”