Play it cool.
Keep it casual.
You’ve got him in your palm.
“And … we’re going as friends to this thing?” I ask.
“Of course,” he answers too quickly, fidgets, then smiles. “Yes. So do you wanna go with me?”
“You bet your ass I’ll be your plus-one,” I answer—with a touch more enthusiasm than intended.
He smiles that heart-crushingly beautiful smile I can’t get enough of. “Great. I’m taking a taxi there, so … I’ll stop by your place around 7:45 to pick you up, since it’s on the way.” He seems confused about what else to say for a moment, then finally settles on: “See you then, Romeo.” With that, he heads back to the locker room—and my eyes drop straight to his tiny gym shorts, instantly hypnotized by Danny’s firm, tight cheeks squeezed inside them as he struts away.
Fuck.
Maybe it’s me who’s in his palm.
16. Friends?
The taxi pulls up promptly at 7:45 PM. I pop open the door, slip inside, then Danny and I head off across town. He asks me how my day at work was. I ask him about his boss and whether he’s a dick like mine, and he explains that she is actually very nice and is a little obsessed with gay men, hence why she seems to only hire them, befriend them, and totally surround herself with them. He compliments my outfit with carefully chosen words and tries not to stare at me too long. I ask if he’s wearing cologne and try not to sound too much like I want to tackle him. He starts warning me about his coworkers and what I should expect when we get there.
All of it is small talk.
All of it is blah, blah, blah.
It’s obvious all he wants to do right now is ditch the get together and beg me to fuck his brains out in the back seat of this smelly taxi.
Tonight is going to be so much fun torturing him.
We arrive on-time—and this is no modest high-rise building. Just from the look of the lobby, I got the fast impression that this place is luxurious. There was a handsomely-dressed concierge who greeted us downstairs. There were elevator attendants and security guards. Even the elevators talk to you as you ascend. By the time we get to the door of his boss’s apartment, my eyes are full of gold and glam.
I turn to him. “Is your boss mega loaded or something?”
Danny seems more fidgety than normal as we stand at the door to the high-rise apartment, waiting to be let in. “She’s my boss, but she also owns the whole chain of stores I work at. I probably should’ve mentioned that. She’s a big deal.”
“No shit.” The walls tremble with the sound of chatter, laughter, and music thumping at top volume. I give him a nudge of my elbow. “And, uh … didn’t you say this was a small gathering …?”
He clears his throat. “Um, yeah.”
What’s going on? “You alright, Danny?”
“Sorry, what?”
“I asked if you’re alright.”
He takes a breath. “Okay. I might have, uh … downplayed my boss Denise’s parties. They can go from a ‘little get-together’ to a huge event in minutes.”
“That,” I say, pointing, “sounds like a full-blown ticketed event with a DJ and mosh pit through that door.”
“I … also … might have told my boss I was bringing a friend.” He winces. “And that may have resulted in a group text going out to some of her other gay friends. And their friends. And my coworkers’ friends. I guess she can go a little over the top.” He sighs. “I have no idea what we’re about to face in there.”
“They’d make all of that fuss just over you bringing a friend?” Danny makes a face. I lean in. “What exactly did you tell them about me?”
“Nothing.”
He’s lying. “Did you tell your boss how we met? Or that I’m the reason you broke it off with Joey?”
Danny’s face is going red. He shoots me a look. “You’re not the reason.”
“Did you tell your boss I’m hot?”
Now his face is a literal cherry. He rolls his eyes and suppresses a laugh. “You think pretty damned highly of yourself, huh?”
I fight an instinct to tell him he doesn’t have to worry, that the only guy I have eyes for is him, no matter how many hotties and party-boy horn dogs are on the other side of this door. The whole point of this ‘hard-to-get’ thing is to drive Danny crazy and make him pursue me when he’s ready, right?
But maybe he could use some reassurance anyway. Just a little bit. “Danny …”
Just then, the door flings open, and a vibrant, curvy woman in a cocktail dress appears. She has dark, tight curls of hair, warm mahogany skin, and bright green eyes that flash upon seeing us. “Danny, you’re here, my sweetheart! And, oh my …” She turns to me with a hand full of stylish jewelry drawn to her chest—then proceeds to take in the sight of me like I’m a delicious slab of prime beef. “This must be your … friend …?”