Izzy’s eyes crinkled when he laughed softly. “That’s some bullshit right there.”
Maybe. Maybe he was too sharp to be pretty, or too angular, too abrasive. But Wyatt had never seen anyone more beautiful than Izzy in his life. And he knew Izzy wouldn’t believe it if he said it again, so Wyatt did the only thing he could think of to prove to him that it was the truth—he pulled him forward into another kiss. This one started off as rough and desperate, but softened into something sweet and gentle, tiny presses of their lips, the tip of Izzy’s tongue sliding against Wyatt’s bottom lip.
“You’re moving here,” Wyatt said again, when they’d finally separated. He couldn’t stop from smiling at the thought.
Izzy grinned. “Yeah, you like that idea?”
Wyatt nodded.
“Me too,” Izzy said. “You gonna tell me which bedroom window is yours? Leave it unlocked for me?”