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feels.”
    “Please.” Pete slanted a laughing glance toward him. “You loved that. All those teen girls panting for you?”
    Making a face, Trevor muttered, “No thanks.”
    His expression was so disgusted Pete raised a quizzical eyebrow.
    “Um, jailbait, you know,” Trevor explained.
    Now Pete was really curious—Trevor looked almost panicked. A crazy thought tickled at Pete’s brain as he eyed the other man but he quickly shook his head and dismissed it. That was just wishful thinking. “Want to do some grocery shopping?” Pete asked.
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    “Sure,” Trevor agreed with so much enthusiasm Pete’s curiosity rose again.
    “Well, it won’t be that much fun,” Pete told him, grinning when Trevor blushed.
    “Whatever,” Trevor grumbled, avoiding the other man’s eyes. They climbed into Pete’s pickup and buckled their seatbelts. Before he turned the key, Pete turned to face Trevor.
    “You were good in there,” he said seriously. “Very believable.”
    Ducking his head a little, Trevor told him, “Thanks.”
    They drove the three blocks to the grocery store in silence. Trevor stared. He blinked and stared again. It was true. Pete was singing. It was under his breath, but he was definitely singing. The guy was examining the label on a box of pasta and he was singing along to the lite-rock shit that passed for music at the grocery store. He wasn’t half-bad either.
    “What the fuck, man?” Trevor asked, his voice full of laughter. Pete’s head came up and he looked at Trevor, oblivious. “What?”
    “Don’t act all innocent,” Trevor told him, his lips quivering with the effort of holding back laughter. “Boyz2Men? Really?” He watched with pleasure as Pete’s cheeks darkened and he dropped his eyes.
    “Sorry.” Pete snuck a quick peek at Trevor. “Was I singing?”
    The cop is too fucking cute for my own good. “You were.” Trevor nodded solemnly.
    “Shit. Sorry.” A small smile crept out as Pete’s eyes flashed toward Trevor again.
    “Was I dancing too?”
    His eyes widening, Trevor could only shake his head. Dancing?
    “Sometimes it just happens,” Pete sighed. “I hear the music and bam!”
    Before Trevor knew what was happening, Pete had grabbed him by the hand and waist, pulling Trevor against him so they were plastered together from thigh to chest. Panicking, Trevor tried to pull back, knowing what the proximity to Pete would do to his body, how it would expose the feelings he was trying very hard to hide. Instead of releasing him, Pete spun Trevor through some quick dance steps. Resisting the urge to melt against him, Trevor pushed hard against Pete’s shoulder, stumbling back a few steps when he was suddenly free.
    Breathing hard, he stared at Pete. “You told me not to fuck with you.” Trevor was humiliated to hear a tremor in his voice. “So don’t fuck with me !” He turned away and closed his eyes, trying to force his body to stop shaking.
    “Trev,” Pete said softly, touching his shoulder.
    Trevor shrugged off his hand. “Fuck off.” He knew he was being an idiot. It was his own damn fault. He was always crushing on the unavailable ones. He just couldn’t seem to help himself.
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    “Listen,” Pete persisted, standing too close behind him. “How about some new rules?”
    “What new rules?” Trevor asked, interested but still wary.
    “Actually, we’d just need some rules,” Pete corrected himself, a touch of amusement in his voice, “since we haven’t actually come up with any yet.”
    His embarrassment over his hissy fit fading, Trevor turned around to face him.
    “What rules then?”
    “Well, I know one of yours is no tangoing in the grocery store.”
    Flushing, Trevor scowled and crossed his arms over his chest. “No dancing in the grocery store should kind of be a given.”
    “Sorry.” Pete shrugged, dropping his gaze for a moment. “Won’t happen again. Don’t know what got into me.”
    Squashing down an extra-stupid