Page 11 of Warm and Dry

He took a step forward and then stopped and was suddenly just a few inches away. “I guess I’ll see you around…”

"Can I take you to dinner?" Asking him had been on the tip of my tongue for hours, and I didn’t want to let him get away before I did. "On Friday. There’s a new restaurant I like...or I can cook."

He didn't hesitate for even a second. "Yeah. I'd really like that."

"Good." I opened my arms, hoping he’d take the hint and come to me.

Forest swallowed hard and walked right into my chest, pressing his forehead against my neck and breathing me in.

"Next time you don't need a prop." I pulled out a business card from my pocket. "You can call, text, or come by anytime."

He might regret telling me that. “I’ll see you on Friday.”

7

FOREST

Scott asked me on a date.

As I drove home, I was still in shock at how the afternoon had played out. I figured we’d flirt a little and maybe exchange numbers, but it was so much more than that. In just a few hours, he moved to the top spot of my favorite people in the world. I had buddies at work and from the team, but they all knew me superficially. We drank together and joked around, but we never went deep.

But with Scott, I could go deeper. He wanted to know details about my job. My favorite foods. The things that made me sad.

And even after opening up to him in a way I hadn’t with anyone else as an adult, he still wanted to take me to dinner.

Even as I pulled up to my building, I could still feel the warmth and weight of his arms wrapped around me, holding me to his chest. Before I’d thought it through, my forehead was buried in his neck and I had to resist the urge to lick him.

Maybe I actually did. Just a little.

Friday felt very far away.

I made it through Wednesday's practice without embarrassing myself, but Kowalski cornered me in the locker room and wanted details. I gave him the short version of how it went.

“I fucking told you!” He was so proud of himself that I almost regretted telling him.

But I totally didn’t because his little plan got me a date with the sexy laundry-preneur. “Yeah, yeah. Anyway, I’ll let you know how it goes on Friday.”

“You better! And we have a bye this week, so you’ve got all weekend to get worked by Mr. Clean.”

“Mr. Clean?” I pictured the mascot for the cleaning products my mom used when I was growing up. “He’s not bald.”

“He owns a laundromat, right? Where people clean their clothes.”

“Oh, right.” We’d need to work on that nickname, but I appreciated how supportive he was being.

By the time Friday evening rolled around, I was more than ready to see Scott. I showered twice because I’d been working in a hot attic all day and then went for a run after work to burn off my nervous energy. Between those two things, I had sweat dripping from every crease and crevice, and I wanted to be squeaky clean for Scott, just in case.

My closet hadn’t been refreshed in years, so I grabbed the dark gray henley that Briggs once said made me look hot and picked up my phone to text Scott. Looking forward to tonight.

He replied back. Me too. If you’re good with it, I’d like to cook for you. You can come by whenever you’re ready and we’ll have a drink before dinner.

I’d need a drink to keep my dick in check throughout dinner. Sounds good. I’ll leave here in ten.

Perfect.

It was perfect. And after a few more minutes in front of the mirror to pull my hair back and make sure my beard was tight, I grabbed my keys and headed to Scott’s place.

His building looked different now that I was more than a customer. The laundromat was lit up from the inside and a couple machines were spinning. Instead of walking through to the back, I went around to the side entrance and took the exterior stairs up. After smoothing down my shirt and swallowing the mint I’d been sucking on, I knocked on the door and held my breath.