Jacob pockets the watch so Avery can’t see it. “Yes,” he lies. “Kiss me.”
Avery laughs. “Hey!” He reaches for the pocket but Jacob catches his hand and pushes Avery’s book aside. “That’s my watch.”
“Come and get it,” Jacob says.
Avery likes the challenge he hears in Jacob’s voice. When he stands, Jacob backs away a little, eyeing Avery as if trying to guess which way he’s going to come around the table. Avery suspects Jacob will run the other way. But he doesn’t want to chase his boy. If they’re not going to study until seven, then he’s got a few ideas of how he wants to spend the next hour before mass. Ideas that involve Jacob in his arms and not trying to get away from him.
So he does what Jacob’s not expecting. He kicks off his shoes and raises one knee to the table. Jacob’s eyes widen as Avery climbs onto the table. He moves like a lion stalking his prey, crawling across the table, his gaze fixed on Jacob’s mouth. Rawr