Total pages in book: 37
Estimated words: 35498 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 177(@200wpm)___ 142(@250wpm)___ 118(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 35498 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 177(@200wpm)___ 142(@250wpm)___ 118(@300wpm)
“I’m terrified just thinking about it.” The playful twinkle in his eyes was captivating. “Why’d you shave it off?”
“It itched like the devil all summer.”
“Ah. Well, if you’re sharing to try to get me to tell you about my one attempt to grow facial hair in high school, it won’t work.”
“It won’t?” Matthew pretended to bat his eyelashes.
Oliver sighed. “I think I destroyed all the pictures, but there are people still living in the world who know me as Patches.”
Matthew couldn’t imagine it. “I’m glad it didn’t take. Covering that face would be a crime.”
Oliver shrugged one shoulder self-consciously before taking a sip of his coffee.
“There’s whipped cream on your lips,” Matthew informed him huskily.
“Oops.” Oliver licked his lips and Matthew almost groaned out loud.
That should be my job.
Down, boy.
He needed to keep things light. He could practically hear Rory’s advice and Robert’s warnings ringing in his ears. Ask him about himself, dumbass.
He was trying.
“I’m curious, is there any personal information you’re willing to part with? Maybe what you do for a living? I warn you, if you don’t give me something, I’ll have to use my imagination and my skills at deduction, both of which are legendary.”
“Oh, there’s an offer I can’t refuse. Deduce away,” Oliver dared him.
Matthew straightened in his seat. “You’re nineteen, and you look younger but your eyes tell a different story.”
Oliver shifted under the scrutiny. “What story is that?”
Keeping it light, Matthew grinned. “That you’ve spent your life in isolation in the Himalayas, simultaneously seeking enlightenment while training for the Olympics.” He laughed and held out his hands, gesturing to Oliver’s body. “That’s the only way to explain the kind of shape you’re in.”
“Anything else?”
“Only that you’re madly attracted to me.”
Oliver set his cup down, eyes sparkling. “You’re close. I’m twenty-one and I teach dance. Nothing fancy. Think senior citizens learning to tango. I also perform with a local company. I’ve never been out of state or ready to medal in anything, but if there’s a play with a ballroom scene in town, I’ll probably be in the background.”
A dancer. He should have known.
Rory did mention stripping.
Not the same thing. And though Oliver downplayed it, his body told a different tale. The kind of dedication Matthew had never felt about anything.
It left him oddly at a loss. He didn’t know anything about dancing. Footwork to dodge a punch, sure. But not the kind of dancing Oliver was talking about. And the closest he’d been to a play was watching a kink scene unfold at the club, which was not a comparison his date would appreciate.
“Looks like I’ll have to start visiting the theatre.”
Oliver made a face. “Did that make me sound pretentious? Bragging about dancing on stage? I didn’t mean it to. I like it, don’t get me wrong, but I don’t have delusions or longing for Broadway.”
“And why not?” Matthew said with a frown. “I imagine you’re every bit as good as a Broadway dancer. You certainly work hard enough at keeping fit.”
He laughed, delighted. “Look at you. You’ve never even seen me dance and you’re already defending me to fictional show producers. That’s cute.”
“I’m not cute. And I’m growing my beard back, starting tomorrow.”
Oliver laid his hand over Matthew’s. “You don’t have to butter me up, Finn. You were right. I’m attracted to you, and I have been since you started hanging around a few days ago.”
Matthew blinked slowly in disbelief. “You never even looked at me.”
He would know, since he could barely force himself to look away.
“Oh, I’ve definitely been checking you out. I’m just sneakier about it.”
“I see.” His heart was thundering in his chest. Having Oliver admit his attraction brought all the desires he’d been trying to tamp down back up to the surface. He got so hard so fast he was seeing stars, and it was all he could do to beat back the primitive urge to drag Oliver to the nearest bed he could find. Or a table. Any flat surface would do at this point.
Just coffee.
Damn it.
“I liked the way you watch me.” Oliver flushed, swiping his finger through his remaining whipped cream and sucking it between his lips.
Matthew’s cock responded to the sight and he groaned under his breath. “I like watching you, but I don’t want you to think that’s all I’m here for.”
“I’m still surprised you are, since I didn’t think you were gay,” Oliver admitted softly. “I’m usually a good judge of that kind of thing. I’ve had to be.”
“I’m not.” The denial escaped before Matthew knew what he was saying.
Oliver went noticeably still.
“You’re not a good judge? Or you’re not gay?”
Rory had warned him to approach this topic with caution, but until he’d seen the look in Oliver’s eyes he hadn’t realized the danger. Shit. He couldn’t fuck this up now. “I didn’t even think I was bi until—I mean, when I saw you… You’re the first guy I’ve wanted to—”