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Chapter 13
DYLAN
Thatevening’sdinnerwithReed was the best date I’ve ever had, and it was nothing more than pizza and beer on his couch. Not to mention the fact that I don’t even know if it was an actual date. But the way he kissed me… I don’t even have words.
I’ve never felt that way when kissing anyone before. The way he took command of my mouth and pressed our chests together was… Oh god. A shiver runs down my spine, and my cock twitches just thinking about it. The man took my breath away. But it’s good that we stopped. At least that’s what I’m telling myself. I don’t want to get too carried away with all this. Clearly, my body wants Reed, but I can’t get my hopes up that he might actually want to date me or have a relationship with me. I think back to Mason and Jackson’s advice, to try to “be myself,” as they advised. It’s easier said than done.
Reed has definitely roused my dick from its long slumber, and much to my dismay, it has remained awake since our date, leading me to feel like a fourteen-year-old boy again. I’m jerking off constantly, and I’m desperate to know what it’s like to have the weight of his body pressing down on mine. I want to know what he tastes like, what he smells like in his most intimate places, and throughout the day, I find myself imagining how it would feel to thrust inside him, how tight and hot he would be around me. For the first time in my entire life, I’ve even started imagining what it would be like to let someone inside me. I’ve been with a few guys, but I’ve always topped. I feel less vulnerable that way. But my instinct to trust Reed is so strong I almost crave letting him into my body. I want him to know me from the inside, which sounds ridiculously cheesy, but it is what it is.
I don’t know if we’ll ever get there, but one thing is clear—I really fucking want to.
The next few weeks are jammed. We’re in the final lead-up to Thanksgiving, and we have clients pushing to get things wrapped up before the holidays. It’s busy, but we’re handling it. There will be a few smaller things to finish between Thanksgiving and Christmas, but then we should all get some downtime before beginning several big jobs in January.
Fortunately, my crews are all so competent they don’t need much supervision, which frees me up to work on Reed’s place. After we settled on a deal and signed a contract, I started spending several days a week at his place, and I’m pleased with the progress I’ve made already.
The interior designer we often recommend to our clients has helped me with some design choices, and it looks fantastic, if I do say so myself.
Reed isn’t around all the time, but he’s there enough that we often get time to talk a few times throughout the week. I thought it might be awkward, but it’s not, not at all. I also thought my physical reaction to him might calm down since we’re seeing each other pretty regularly, but no, if anything, I want him more now than I did a few weeks ago. This whole experience is new for me. I genuinely like Reed, and I don’t really like all that many people.
We haven’t had another official date, but we’ve spent hours chatting. Our conversations start with talking about the renovation, but then they grow into chatting about anything and everything. He’s a fantastic listener, even when I think I’m boring him with my conversations about astronomy. I have a slight obsession with photos from a new telescope NASA launched recently. I tend to get kind of excited when I talk about them. But Reed always seems interested and asks questions. I’m constantly trying to pick up on any hint that I’m boring him to death, but I never find anything. I mean, it’s entirely possible I’m missing it, and in his head he’s making a grocery list, but I like to tell myself he’s just a really great listener. He makes me feel seen and heard. And holy crap, that is a heady feeling.
Even discussions about the renovations are more fun than they are with “normal” clients since he’s basically given me carte blanche to do what I think works best. I keep him updated with the choices, making sure he can veto anything he doesn’t like, but he seems to love everything I choose. I want to spend time around another person so badly it aches. I think about him all the time, and that’s something I’ve never experienced before.
The Friday afternoon before Thanksgiving week, I’m at a jobsite checking in on a few things when he messages me. My heart thumps in my chest, and I know I’m sporting a ridiculous grin as I look down at my phone, but I can’t help it.
Reed: Hey Dylan. I work one last shift this weekend and then I’m going to be off for Thanksgiving week. Would you be interested in getting together for dinner or something?
Dylan: Hi Reed. Yes, I would love to get together. Would you like to come to my place? We can order in again or go out.
I’ve been thinking a lot about showing Reed my home. My place is part of me, and bringing people there helps them get to know me on a different level. Not that I make a habit of bringing people over to my place. It’s really only the few people I’m closest to, like my family and a few of the guys from HDH, who gain entry to my “fortress of solitude,” although in my case, the fortress is a cozy bungalow. As much as I love working on and designing luxurious lakeside mansions, my small house is part of me. It’s exactly the right size, but if I ever wanted to make it bigger, there’s enough room. And there’s room for my animals, both the ones I have now and the ones I know I’ll end up with in the future, and I can’t imagine living anywhere else.
Reed: I would love that. I can’t wait to see your place, since you’re so intimately acquainted with mine! I can come over right after work.
And then, before I’m even finished typing my reply, I get another message.
Reed: I just realized that sounds pushy, I’m sorry. It’s probably not recommended in any dating manual to be so eager, but I’m really looking forward to spending more time together.
I get a funny, tight feeling in my chest when I read his message. Wow. He’s excited to spend time with me. That’s… wow… That makes me happy.
Dylan: Tomorrow night is great. You can let me know when you will be here.
I hesitate a moment before I type the next message.
Dylan: I’m looking forward to seeing you.
I send one last text with my address and grin like a fool when I get his final message.
Reed: I can’t wait to see you.
Of course, it’s right at that moment that my cousin Sam walks by and notices me smiling down at my phone like it’s one of my favorite pets.
“Dude, you’re grinning like the cat that ate the canary over here. What’s got you looking so happy?” he asks, chuckling.
Sam is a great guy. He and Mason have been best friends forever, and he’s more like a brother than a cousin to me.
“Nothing,” I say, unable to wipe the smile off my face.
He arches an eyebrow at me. “Okay, suuuure.” He grins. “I’ll let you off the hook for now, boss-man, but it’s only because I’m busy and I want to get all my shit taken care of today. Be warned. Family gatherings over the holidays—you’re gonna spill the tea.” He walks backward as he talks, shooting me with ridiculous finger guns, and a quiet chuckle escapes me.
