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Fuck.

Jaime cocked his head to the side. “And you understand I’m not, like, a lite version of it. You’re not any less gay because you like me and not Danny.”

I grunted. “I know.”

I understood why this was what he focused on, but I still found it jarring. Because that wasn’t what I was focusing on. No, my anxiety was about how close he was standing, how forbidden this still felt, regardless of all the work I’d been putting into it. I could see the fine hairs in his forearm, for fuck’s sake.

“And I mostly top.”

I huffed. “I’m very much aware.”

“And you still find me hot?”

The initial anger had been replaced with more of those smug smiles he wasn’t shy about.

It made me itch to bend him over my lap.

Nope.

Not going there.

“Do you need your ego stroked that badly?”

Of course, the taunt left him unmoved. Well, not exactly. Every second that passed, he seemed more and more interested. Curious. He was watching me too closely.

This wasn’t how it was supposed to go—any of it.

“You know I don’t.” He grinned way too widely as he spoke. “But come on, you’ve been a taboo subject for over a year. I’m allowed to be curious.”

“You are not allowed to be a pain in the ass,” I rebutted.

“I don’t get many complaints on that front.” Jaime shrugged. “I can give you references if you want.”

“Being a smart ass is not a cute look.”

“Good thing I’m not trying to be cute.”

His only saving grace was that he wasn’t trying to get close. No, if anything, if I stopped focusing on my beating heart and watched him the way I was supposed to… he was hesitant. Him hovering so close was just more of that annoying posturing.

The realization helped me take a deeper breath. Posturing from brats was easier to handle than whatever I thought was happening here.

“What’s the deal between you and Cece?”

“Huh?”

Brats were stupidly easy to distract.

I snorted. “The deal was that I asked questions if you didn’t get the person right. So, that’s my first question.”

Jaime pulled back. Probably less than an inch, but it was more than enough. I watched as he scrunched up his nose. He didn’t have freckles across his cheeks and nose, like María did, but he had a few darker spots around his face. I bet he hated them and the youthful vibe they gave him.

“We live together. She’s my kink sib.”

I noted the use of terminology. I overheard Cece explain she used she/they pronouns, but preferred gender-neutral terms. It seemed that hadn’t changed.

“And what does that mean for you?”

“Are we seriously doing this?”