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I chewed quickly to be able to respond. While I agreed with them, the broad-genre categories were better in theory than in real life.
“I hear you,” I answered, reaching for my soda, “but in reality, we are what others perceive us as. If I put down sub in my online profile, Tops are gonna draw their own conclusions. Same with masochist and Little and whatever else. And that’s why I can stress out about those damn boxes, because you want them to describe you as accurately as possible.”
“Do you?” Lucas asked patiently. “I personally believe there are both pros and cons to kink categories, but do you really want to portray yourself as a list of kinks to Tops who won’t bother getting to know you properly?”
“Annnd he drops the hammer,” Macklin muttered around his food.
I felt my forehead crease with confusion.
“I understand online dating is…” Lucas shook his head. “It’s a nightmare. And we want to find the right match for whatever purpose so quickly today because we don’t want to waste our time. But I think we owe it to ourselves, the future partner, and to the disturbing speed-dating trend to let people ask questions. And if they draw conclusions that aren’t correct—if they dismiss you because of a word or an assumption, then they aren’t worth it.”
“The whole reason I say fuck online datin’,” Colt agreed. “We belong in real-life communities, if there’s access to one. We learn more about others over a damn cup of coffee than readin’ a novella-length profile on the internet.”
That was unfortunately true, but online dating was so comfortable. I could do it on my couch, wearing sweats and Cheetos stains.
Yeah, I saw the problem.
“There is a third option,” Ty mentioned. He immediately had my attention. “Invite some filthy kinksters down to your place in Florida and let them do the talking while you absorb the information.”
I grinned, then promptly felt like the spotlight landed on me when Ty shifted his gaze. His expression was unreadable over the glow of the firepit, with just a hint of mirth, but as the others found him funny, my humor seeped out like drops from a leaky faucet. It was as if he had the ability to showcase one emotion to the others, then an entirely different one to me. Because I didn’t feel the amusement that I saw in his eyes. I felt the…something else. Something darker.
Was he absorbing information about me?
“There you have it,” Reese said. “Decide your own definition of your boxes, but don’t overthink them—or buy a house in Florida.”
Don’t overthink? Me?
See, that was why I didn’t do traditional relationships with deeper attachments. I kept telling Corey—who’d recently come out of an abusive relationship—that we weren’t too much. The second he felt self-conscious about his difficulties surrounding autism, I was there to knock sense into him. I didn’t allow him to talk shit about himself. And I stood by that.
At the same time, I was pragmatic. I wouldn’t hide my own difficulties either; Macklin knew plenty of them, for instance. I was who I was. But that didn’t mean I was ready to put my issues on another man’s plate. Just like I didn’t do with Macklin. He got the fun-loving Lane who spoke more about his problems than showed them. I saved the occasional meltdown for when I was alone or around family.
“Not overthinkin’ them is the best advice, I reckon,” Colt said. “Labels are supposed to be keywords, not memoirs.”
Solid advice, I couldn’t deny that.
“Jesus—always when I’m fuckin’ eatin’.” Ty dug out his phone—the one he used for his side hustle as a reptile trapper—and read the screen. Then he shook his head. “Sorry, folks. I gotta step out for a second. Any takers on an unidentified lizard?”
“I’m right at the center of my steak, man,” Colt protested, pointing his fork at his food.
“Yeah, and we just showered,” Reese said.
I snorted.
Ty smirked and turned to me. I swear, I felt like a deer caught in the headlights every time he looked my way. “You in, boy?”
Boy.
Uh.
“Hell yeah.” I wiped my mouth with my napkin, then hurriedly set my tray table on the floor. “Don’t touch my food.”
“You’re serious,” Macklin stated. “You’re leaving a perfectly nice dinner to hunt down a lizard.”
“At some point, this is going to stop surprising you.” I ducked down and kissed his cheek. “This is a dream come true. See you soon.”
Seconds later when Ty and I walked through the house, I felt the need to add something, because I hadn’t been kidding. This really was a dream come true for me.
“Just consider me your sidekick this week,” I said. “Day or night—if there’s a reptile that needs removing, count me in.”
The sideways smile he sent me was the first genuine one that wasn’t aimed at his toppy buddies. And I cursed myself for how easy it was to revive an old crush. I wasn’t a clueless, hormonal teenager anymore. But damn, his potential approval warmed me up.
