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“You know,” he says, flicking the sink on to rinse his bowl, “I’ve had two serious, exclusive relationships as an adult.”
Now I have an excuse to turn and look at him—surprise. “You have?” How did I not know? Wait—“You mean you dated someone for a few weeks?”
He doesn’t turn to look at me, doesn’t react to my words. Just puts his bowl in the dishwasher and tidies up the kitchen. “I was with Jake for two years until his touring schedule got to be too much—he’s a drummer—and we amicably split. After that, I was with Elle for three years. We lived together, she’d met my parents. Then she moved out East to take over her aunt’s sex toy company and neither of us wanted to do long distance. My twin sister works with her. We’re still friends.”
My jaw might be on the ground. Timothy has five years of solid relationships under his belt? “When was this?”
He turns and easily hops onto the counter. “I was twenty when I started seeing Jake. About six months after we broke up, I met Elle.”
Timothy had serious relationships before we met. I must be still staring at him in open-mouthed shock because he laughs abruptly.
“You should know about Nic,” he says, his nose wrinkling like he really doesn’t want to tell this story. “He moved into the house across the street when we were fourteen. We were best friends from day one and because I was a dumb teenager, I had a huge crush on him.” He laughs again, and this time it’s a bit self-conscious. “This is the only thing in my life I’m embarrassed about. When we were fifteen, I needed to…I don’t know…know. About him, about me. I told him I thought I was into guys as well as girls, and maybe we could kiss, so I’d know for sure. Nic wasn’t into the idea, but we were friends, so he agreed.”
Timothy pauses, his sense of timing perfect. I’m hanging on his every word, even though, knowing Nic as little as I do, I can guess where this is going.
“Worst kiss of my life.” He’s grinning, but I can feel the cringe in his voice. “His too. My crush on him popped like a balloon. He wasn’t a dick about it, but I think he’d rather forget it ever happened.”
“I won’t tell anyone,” I say, biting back a giggle. “I can’t believe you asked him for a kiss.”
Timothy shrugs. “I was a dumb kid with a huge crush and I’ve always been optimistic. I slipped him my tongue. He was not happy.”
Oh my god. I can’t hold in the laugh anymore. “Timothy.”
“My point is, my friendship with him survived my feelings. It survived the distance after he married.”
The way he’s looking at me…shit. This isn’t about his dating past, or his ability to maintain a friendship after complications. Or, rather, it is, but it’s about us. He’s knocking down my excuses.
I’m not afraid of our friendship dying. Timothy would never let it. It would change, though, and I like it the way it is. But maybe we’re already too far down that road. I’m not sure I could be this close to him if he started dating someone seriously.
“I thought we’d go to the zoo today,” I say, changing the subject like the coward I am. I’ve been trying to get him out of the house every day. He can’t keep starving himself from people—he’s an extrovert. He needs the energy of a crowd, even if he’s not ready to step back into the spotlight.
Timothy looks at me for a long moment, like he knows I’ve caught on to him, but he’s letting me off the hook this time. He hops down from the counter. “Sounds good. Might go for a quick swim first.”
I’m already nodding when he pulls his shirt over his head and drops his shorts and underwear to the ground. He strides to the sliding glass door stark naked.
We’re back to nudity? After doors closed in my face and his hand over my eyes?
I’ve seen Timothy naked dozens of times. The man does not need an excuse to streak at a party. He’s not lewd about it and he knows I’m not bothered by nudity, but the sudden shock of seeing his dick lying thick and heavy between his legs reminds me of the sight of his fist wrapped around it, stroking.
My whole body goes hot, desire swooping low because it could be my hand wrapped around him. All I’d have to do is tell him I want him.
I clench my jaw and drop my gaze to my coffee. I’m not doing that. I have reasons, even if I can’t remember them right now.
Timothy stops by the door. “Want to join me?”
“I’m good,” I manage, my voice tight as I stand. No way am I getting into the pool with him, but I do have to keep an eye on him. Make sure he doesn’t have a medical event and drown.
I’m just doing my job.
If I repeat it often enough, maybe I’ll go back to believing it.
The zoo was a bad idea.
We’ve spent the afternoon wandering around, talking about animals, while inside, I’m twisting myself up, wondering how sex with Timothy would be. Is he a tiger in bed? A bear? A wolf? A honey badger?
I blame his dick. If I hadn’t seen it again, I might be able to concentrate. Instead, my body is pointing out to my brain my heart is safe because he’s had a couple of relationships, while my brain is screaming at my body to stop being horny and my heart is racing around in a panic.
I leave him by the monkey enclosure while I get us a couple of ice cream cones. It’s about a million degrees out and my gutter brain isn’t helping. Temporarily putting some physical distance between us isn’t helping either because I can still see him, hands in the pockets of his shorts, watching the monkeys. The three buttons on his short-sleeved blue-gray shirt—none of them done up—give a peek at his golden chest.
