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“You just called me a rabid poodle.” Jackson grinned. “Yeah, but I’m a dog person.”
He’d never tell a single soul that he had decided, while in line at the grocery store, that mouthy, brazen, beautiful Dayton Daniels was the one for him. He especially would never tell Dayton. Still, if Jackson was a betting man, he’d put money on Dayton being his person.
“Your cat is huge.” “Don’t fat-shame my roommate. Kevin is his own man. He does as he pleases.”
“So, that’s your type?” Webster asked when they were alone. “That twinky ball of rage?”
“Jackson?” Day whispered in the darkness. “Yeah, baby?” “If you break my heart, I don’t think I’ll survive it.” Jackson’s chest tightened at the raw desperation in Day’s words. “Your heart is safe with me, Day. I promise.”
“It’s not my job because you’re paying me. It’s my job because you’re mine, and I protect what’s mine.”
“What am I going to do with you?” “I have an alphabetized list,” Day assured him. “We’re at F for frotting.”
“You didn’t even know me then,” Day whispered, then sniffled. “Yeah, I did. I’ve known you my whole life. I just hadn’t found you yet. My gut has never been wrong.”
