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Why does he have to be cute about everything? How am I getting so used to thinking another man is cute?
“Good.” It’s not. Unleashed Pete absolutely does not think it’s good that his services are no longer required. “I think, um, that’s probably for the best.”
His arm pauses mid-sleeve, and he blinks at me. That his hesitation tells me he was willing for more is not the temptation that I need, no matter how much it makes my pride swell.
“The company, your father, Randy,” I rattle off. “It’s too great a risk for either of us to continue like this. And the way people talk at the office, we probably shouldn’t be meeting in elevators anymore either. People would gossip even if they didn’t know about…this.”
Glancing down, he starts doing the buttons on his shirt. “Yeah. You’re right.” Softer, he adds, “I know you’re right,” almost like he’s trying to convince himself.
I hate how it slices a blade through my heart.He just shared with me a sordid tale about how safety is important to him, though. How in the hell can I keep him safe from his awful family if he comes looking for me at the office with that look in his eyes like he had today?
“Are you going to try to find someone else to…” I don’t even know how to finish the sentence.
“No,” he sputters, looking embarrassed. “I think I’m good.”
“Good. Fairway Foods probably isn’t the place to find…someone.”
As we start awkwardly down my hallway, he chuckles. “I know.”
At least we agree on that. Except, I nearly trip over my feet when he adds, “I’ll probably try a dating app.”
“A dating app?” I squawk like it’s the most repulsive thing I can think of because right now it is the most repulsive thing I can think of. Who in the fuck on a dating app will know how to be tender with him?
“A nice one,” he insists, holding up a hand. “Like to date someone. Someone nice.”
“Oh. Right.”
That’s a step better than finding a different sexual mentor who’s another stranger, except the closer we get to my door, the less I’m convinced. It’s not a step better. It’s a step toward meaningful hand holding, touching, and tasting with someone who will hear all his stories and smell his Snuggle scent. Someone who isn’t me.
“Good luck,” I mutter, but it comes out grudgingly.
“You don’t think it’s a good idea? Where do you meet men?”
Fuck.
“I…don’t. I work.” Shifting in place, I add, “All the time.”
“Oh, well, I’m sure it’ll be fine. I’ll be careful, and now I won’t be as shy anymore, thanks to you,” he says from under his lashes.
I want to grab him again and brand him with my lips, so his profile picture will read mine, mine, mine everywhere my mouth touched him. And that’s… exactly why he should leave. I don’t even know how to make him mine, and after hearing the Happy Birthday song a dozen times, he wouldn’t walk, but run in the opposite direction.
“I’ll give you my number, in case you have any questions,” I offer; the words tumbling out even as I realize the dating app that he’ll use will probably be a gay dating app. What the fuck do I know about dating apps, let alone same sex dating?
“Really?”
“Of course.” I shrug like I’m the world’s most accommodating gay man. What in the hell is wrong with me?
I have no idea even where to begin searching for gay sex advice, but I’ll risk a virus on my computer if it keeps his nose in an app and out of another man’s cock-nuzzling zone. Maybe by the time he’s ready to make his move out in the dating world, I’ll have gotten over my Unleashed Pete urges.
“That’d be great. Thanks.”
We swap phone numbers like it’s some kind of business exchange. It’s a vast temperature change between what went on in my bedroom, but I still feel a heat between us, a pull that doesn’t seem to have severed. Even as I open the door, I find myself standing close, as though I need to breathe the same air that he’s breathing.
When his gaze flicks to my mouth, my throat goes dry at the strong urge to kiss him again. I want more of those perfect kisses that I was never supposed to have. This has to stop or me and my obsessive behavior will topple down into a world that will consume me.
“Good luck…Cam.”
He blinks at me like he’s realizing it’s over too, but then his mouth ticks up at the corner a fraction. “Thanks.”
