Messy Love (Stumbling into Love 3)

“Nah, but at least we have a better idea. You’re in Midtown right now? You wanna swing by and check it out? Have a drink or something?”

I hadn’t expected him to ask, and I was suddenly nervous. But obviously, I’d want to see the place before I decided if I was going to move in or not, and we’d have particulars to talk about. “Sure, that’d be cool. You don’t mind?”

“Nope. I’m just sitting around being bored. I’ll text you the address.”

“Cool. I’ll be looking for it.” I’ll be looking for it? I didn’t know why, but that sounded like a stupid thing to say.

Danny chuckled. “All right, man. See you soon.”

He disconnected the call, and I sat there for a minute, trying to figure out how that happened so quickly. I hated feeling so insecure all the time, so unsure. There was no reason I should feel weird about going to Danny’s place, just like I wouldn’t feel that way going to a straight buddy’s place. What got me was my attraction to him. I’d been attracted to him the first time I met him. Danny was around my height, which was about six feet. He wasn’t as broad as I was, but he was muscular. He clearly exercised, his body lean and firm. His hair was black, buzzed short on the bottom, longer on top. He styled it so it stuck up in this way I would never know how to do.

I wasn’t used to spending time with people I was attracted to, who I knew also liked guys. All my hookups had been anonymous, until recently. Since coming out, I made it a point not to hook up and run, but I still wasn’t ever friends with the guys. They were all men I’d met on an app for no reason other than to get off with.

So? ran laps around my brain. I needed to chill out and stop making such a big fucking deal about everything.

I typed the address into my navigation and drove to Danny’s building. He’d said he had two parking spots, and had given me the numbers to look for in the building’s parking structure. Most of the cars around were small, the spots tight for me to maneuver my truck into.

Before I knew it, I was going into the building. I used the intercom, and Danny hit the button for me to take the elevator up to his floor.

I’d never lived in a place like this. In all the apartment complexes I was used to, there wasn’t a lobby and an elevator; instead, you entered each unit from outside.

I knocked on 1202, and a few seconds later the door opened. “Hey, good to see you again.” Danny was wearing a pair of low-slung workout shorts that went to his knees, and no shirt. His stomach was flat, his abs cut, his torso free of hair.

“You too.” Fuck, he was really hot. I automatically looked away. I was used to that—averting my eyes so no one noticed me staring.

I went inside, and Danny closed the door behind me.

“As you can see, it’s not the nicest place in town, but it’s not the worst either.”

My gaze traveled around the room. I’d walked into the living room. Straight in front of it was a small dining room—kitchen to the left of that, sliding glass door and balcony to the right. Off on the other side by the kitchen was a hallway where I assumed the bathroom and bedrooms were. His style was pretty simple—lots of gray, red, and black.

I turned around to face him again. Danny was stretching when I did, rubbing a hand along his belly. “You look good to me—I mean, it—it looks good to me.” Jesus Christ, what the fuck was wrong with me?

Danny smiled. “Both can be true. I can look good, and so can my apartment, and, well, you do too. You’re all rugged, which is sexy as fuck.”

I wasn’t really sure what to say. It wasn’t as if guys I’d hooked up with or men on apps hadn’t said similar things, but it was a whole new experience to be…flirted with in person by one of my brother’s friends—and was he flirting with me or just being nice? “Rugged, huh?” I managed to say.

“Oh God. Don’t pretend you don’t know it. You’re muscly from actual physical labor and not the gym. Broad chest and stubble, along with what I bet are rough, calloused hands. You’ll have all the boys looking for a daddy-type losing their shit.”

The smile slid off my face. Wait. Daddy? “I’m only thirty-two!”

“Ah, come on, big guy, age doesn’t have anything to do with it. You know that.”

No, no I didn’t.

“Holy fuck, you don’t know that, do you?”

“No, and I’m not sure how I feel about it. The daddy thing. I see stuff on Grindr, and I’m not going to pretend no one has ever said it to me there, but that’s not with a face shot.” I didn’t post my face all over the apps I frequented. I already felt out of my element, and I was older than Will and all his friends.