AllFreeNovel
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I knew there would be hot guys in this city, but I didn’t expect to encounter one so soon. Is it too late to check myself in a mirror again? Am I a mess? “I love my parents, but they get kinda clingy.”
He smiles. “I couldn’t help but overhear. Don’t worry,” he adds. “I know all about clingy parents.”
I let out a strained laugh, relieved. “You’ve got a pair of them yourself, I take it?”
“My father, mostly.” He slowly takes me in with his soft eyes, one curious spoonful at a time. “Hence my need to get as far away from him as I can from time to time. I’m back from a quick weekend getaway to P-town.”
I have no idea what or where that is. But I nod as if I do. “That sounds like fun!”
“It is! But … it could have been better. I had planned to go with friends, but they bailed. Where are you headed?” He grips the handle of his own rolling luggage, which I just now notice—a sleek, black case with a single golden stripe down its side. “Uptown? Grayson Point? Whitaker Park?”
“Mayville.”
“Mayville? Ah, that’s where all the boys are at.” He lets out a hearty chuckle, then inclines his head toward me. “There’s a reason they call it Gayville.”
I think I still haven’t stopped nodding from the whole P-town thing. I’m in a daze. I can’t seem to peel my eyes off of his.
I want him to like me. Badly.
“Oh.” His eyes flash with alarm. “I didn’t mean to assume. Are you not gay?”
I blink, coming to. “What? Oh, sorry. Yes. Yes, I am. I definitely am. Gay, that is.”
“Ah. Phew! What a relief.” He laughs, shakes his head, then gestures at me. “You have the vibe of a corn-fed hetero country boy … yet heading to a place like Mayville. I’m getting mixed signals.”
I don’t want the first hottie I meet here to think I’m weird. I whip off my hat suddenly and run a hand through my hair. “I answered an ad for a roommate,” I explain.
“I see, I see. You look better without it.”
“Without it?” I glance down at the hat in my hand. “Oh, this? I literally just bought it at the—”
“Lose it.”
“Uh … lose it?”
“Your hair looks great,” he tells me. “Lose the hat. It does nothing for you.”
I flush, then stuff it away into a bag. “Sorry for being weird. I’m new here.”
He smirks knowingly, nodding. “I gathered as much. And that explains a few things, too. Like the interestingly desperate and somewhat entertaining way you hailed for a taxi.”
I laugh. “Hey, I wasn’t that bad, was I?”
“Terrible,” he teases me, letting on an adorable smile that makes his eyes twinkle. “The worst.”
“So is there a trick to it?”
“No trick.” He leans into me, bringing his body awfully (and pleasantly) close to mine, then points toward the street. “The lights on top of the taxies? If the middle one’s on, then it’s available.”
When I turn my face, I’m inches from his. His warm brown eyes are like pools of maple syrup when the sunlight catches them, causing his earthy irises to sparkle, and his lips are a plump, pillowy heart that do things to me when they move.
“But if you want to skip all of this madness,” he goes on, “I happen to have an Uber waiting for me down the road a bit.”
I’m in such a daze, I barely hear him. “Uber?”
“That’s what I said. Want to share a ride?”
Today, my life begins—and I love it. “Why not?”
2
Our driver cuts through traffic like it’s whipped cream. He makes sharp turns, shifts lanes abruptly, and is heavy and merciless on the horn.
I should be scared for my life, but instead, I’m thrilled and staring out the window in awe.
“Are you alright?”
“How does he do it?” I ask quietly, astonished. “I mean, he drives like he’s playing bumper cars.”
The driver cuts suddenly into the left lane and narrowly misses a dump truck, honking loudly.
I gasp and reach out to grab the first thing—my new friend’s hand. I let go and blush. “S-Sorry.”
He chuckles, amused. “Don’t be. We move at a different speed here.”
“Is that about a hundred miles an hour?” I ask.
“Give or take,” he teases. “And you can hold my hand if you want to.”
I flick my eyes at him. My heart climbs up into my throat. “I can what?”
“I mean, I don’t want you to pass out from shock before getting to your destination. If it helps you to hold my hand, go right ahead. It isn’t busy. Mayville’s only a few minutes away, so—”
“Almost there already? No,” I quickly answer, trying not to sound as flustered as I clearly am. “I don’t need to hold hands. It was … a reflex thing.”
He smirks like he knows something, popping those big, adorable dimples of his out. “Sure, sure.”
