He smiles when he sees me approaching and stands. “You must be Alex?” he says, and I nod. He waits for me to sit before he does. “You look nice.”
I flush and try for a smile but I’m not sure it’s convincing. “Thank you. So do you.” He’s dressed similar to me, his pants and blazer different colors, and his shirt a button up. His dark hair is styled to perfection. He has glasses over his deep brown eyes and he smiles at me again. It really is anice smile. Everything about him is nice, really. He’s a bit older than me, mid thirties I think, and he said he was an architect, which is pretty cool. He’s honestly perfect on paper.
Our waiter comes by and I order some wine for myself. I think I need it.
We order our meals once the waiter returns with my drink. We talk for a bit, about ourselves, the typical get to know you stuff that we haven’t already talked about over Grindr. Work, families, hobbies. I tell him aboutJohnny’sand that my family owns it, and he smiles.
I find he loves to read as much as I do, though he’s more interested in science fiction and fantasy, that he loves animals, and has two cats of his own. He grew up in Massachusetts just like I did. He enjoys being outdoors. He tells me his family isn’t the most supportive of him being gay and he’s had to cut ties with most of them but has a sister he’s close to.
When our food comes we eat, and talk a bit more, and I feel like the world’s worst date because all I can think about is how perfect Greg is, the ideal guy, really, but not the guy I want. He doesn’t smell right, he doesn’t have the sexy southern drawl that makes me weak in the knees. He doesn’t blush like crazy when I give him the slightest compliment. He doesn’t have a smile that melts my heart and turns my brain to mush.
“You’re not enjoying this, are you?” he says, and I stare at him, blinking. He doesn’t even look upset, just knowing.
“No, I am,” I tell him.
He shakes his head. “Alex, it’s okay if you’re not. I’ve been on enough dates to know when someone isn’t having a good time. You’ve barely touched your food. You’re clearly distracted.”
I sigh. “I’m so sorry. It’s not you, I swear.”
He gives a small smile. “So who is it, then?”
“Huh?”
“The guy you’re pining over?”
I flush. “It doesn’t matter. He isn’t interested.”
“Is this your way of trying to forget about your feelings?”
I blink and he laughs softly.
“It won’t work. Trust me.”
I groan.
“Tell him how you feel, Alex.”
I shake my head. “I can’t. He’s my best friend and he’s straight.”
“Are you sure? I thought you said you thought you were straight until a couple of months ago. I’m guessing he’s the reason you’re even on a date with a guy right now?”
I nod.
“Look, if he’s as good of a friend as you say he is, it will be okay. I’m not saying he for sure has feelings for you, too, but he won’t hate you for saying something, and you’ll know for sure how he feels for you one way or the other. That might make it easier to move on if he doesn’t feel the same. And if he does…” he trails off. “You don’t want to live the rest of your life wondering what would have happened if you had said something.”
I sigh and bite my lip.
“Is he worth taking a chance on?” Greg asks.
Okay, I can do this, I tell myself as I climb out of my car and head into the apartment building. I’ve been talking myself up since I left the restaurant, feeling horrible for being such a lousy date, but thankful my date was so understanding.
I’m telling Bentley how I feel. Tonight. Right now. I’m sure he’s up. It’s not that late. But when I stop outside his door I hesitate. I take a deep breath and I’m just about to knock when I remember our rule and reach for the door knob. I hear a moan from the other side of the door, and then a curse as I step inside.
“Fuck!”
I stop dead in my tracks when I see Bentley sprawled out on his couch, naked and fisting himself, obscene amounts of precum coating his hand and cock, his skin flushed and damp with sweat, that beautiful golden hair pooled on top of the pillow his head is resting on. Holy fuck. I’ve never seen anything this erotic before. Not even the porn I watched compares to this. His eyes are wide when he meets my gaze, and it registers in my brain that I should be looking away, or shutting the door and running away, but I don’t. I can’t. My name pours from his lips as his dick pulses and load after load of cum shoots out all over his stomach and chest. God, I don’t think I’ll forget that O face for as long as I live.
My brain is short circuiting, and I don’t know what to do. “Shit,” I say. “Sorry, I’ll go.” I step back and shut the door, before hightailing it over to my apartment.
