imaginable. But to Danny, the touch burned all the way down to the bone.
“Then we won’t let it happen,” Luke said. “And for what it’s worth, I think you did the right thing flipping over that fucking ice machine. Sometimes a guy has to do what a guy has to do.”
“Thanks,” Danny said.
Before anything else could be said by either of them, the car horn blasted again, making Granger bark and making the cat spit and hiss at Granger for barking. It also got Luke moving toward the door.
“Later, buddy,” Luke said.
And Danny nodded. “Later.”
Danny’s heart was going a mile a minute.
He didn’t know it, but so was Luke’s.
D ANNY stood at the kitchen window and watched Luke hop the hedge with ease and speak to the two guys waiting for him in the driveway next door. Once again Luke’s ginger hair was set ablaze by the morning sun. Danny had never seen anything so gorgeous in his life. Luke was smiling and gesticulating to the two workers, pointing to the truck, then the house, bending to pet Granger’s head, and once, he faced Danny’s kitchen window and gave Danny a wave. Danny was so startled, Luke had turned away before he thought to wave back.
Wow. The past thirty minutes had been the most erotic thirty minutes of Danny’s young life. He could still feel Luke’s warm fingers touching him. Touching him. He could feel the timbre of Luke’s voice still flowing across his skin like a sweep of silk.
Danny actually had to close his eyes when he remembered Luke reaching out to brush his cheek just before he left the house. His fingers were so gentle. His eyes so kind.
His body so sexy.
Holy shit. The guy had to be gay. He had to be. But what if he wasn’t? What if he was just really, really friendly? Danny knew if he made the first move on Luke, and Luke backed away, or worse, ran away, Danny would be crushed. He would be so humiliated, it would probably set back Danny’s little coming-out party for another decade. Or longer. Or forever.
Danny let the kitchen curtain fall closed, and he clumped his way back to the kitchen table, where he collapsed into the chair he had been sitting in earlier.
Torn somewhere between despondent and exhilarated, he reached out and touched the seat of the chair Luke had been sitting in.
It was still warm.
Danny sighed. He really had to get laid. Please, God, just once.
Chapter 4
S INCE his erotically charged tête–à–tête with Luke earlier that morning, erotically charged from Danny’s perspective at any rate, Danny had been alone the entire day. Playing video games. Playing more video games. Facebooking with people he didn’t really know or ever want to meet. Eating. Eating again. Then eating maybe a couple more times. He could have clomped his way to the hedge and struck up a conversation with Luke, but the guy and his two helpmates were busy unloading a huge truckload of furniture, and Danny didn’t want to bother them. Instead, Danny had tried twice to strike up a conversation with the cat, but to no avail. The cat wasn’t talking. Still pissed about the bird, he supposed.
Danny wasn’t used to all the seclusion, or to the restrictions this house arrest business was making on his ability to move around and function like a normal human being. It pretty much killed that ability dead, is what it did. Danny hadn’t appreciated what a wonderful thing it was to be able to just hop in his car and go somewhere when he had a mind to, or to simply pick up a phone and call somebody when he felt like talking. No wonder people go on and on and on about the importance of freedom. It is one of those things you don’t miss until you don’t have it any more. Like sex. Of course, in Danny’s case he had never had sex to begin with, except with himself, so you’d think maybe he shouldn’t be missing it so much now.
If Danny was going this crazy being restricted to the house and yard, without access to his car and unable to use the telephone to
“Then we won’t let it happen,” Luke said. “And for what it’s worth, I think you did the right thing flipping over that fucking ice machine. Sometimes a guy has to do what a guy has to do.”
“Thanks,” Danny said.
Before anything else could be said by either of them, the car horn blasted again, making Granger bark and making the cat spit and hiss at Granger for barking. It also got Luke moving toward the door.
“Later, buddy,” Luke said.
And Danny nodded. “Later.”
Danny’s heart was going a mile a minute.
He didn’t know it, but so was Luke’s.
D ANNY stood at the kitchen window and watched Luke hop the hedge with ease and speak to the two guys waiting for him in the driveway next door. Once again Luke’s ginger hair was set ablaze by the morning sun. Danny had never seen anything so gorgeous in his life. Luke was smiling and gesticulating to the two workers, pointing to the truck, then the house, bending to pet Granger’s head, and once, he faced Danny’s kitchen window and gave Danny a wave. Danny was so startled, Luke had turned away before he thought to wave back.
Wow. The past thirty minutes had been the most erotic thirty minutes of Danny’s young life. He could still feel Luke’s warm fingers touching him. Touching him. He could feel the timbre of Luke’s voice still flowing across his skin like a sweep of silk.
Danny actually had to close his eyes when he remembered Luke reaching out to brush his cheek just before he left the house. His fingers were so gentle. His eyes so kind.
His body so sexy.
Holy shit. The guy had to be gay. He had to be. But what if he wasn’t? What if he was just really, really friendly? Danny knew if he made the first move on Luke, and Luke backed away, or worse, ran away, Danny would be crushed. He would be so humiliated, it would probably set back Danny’s little coming-out party for another decade. Or longer. Or forever.
Danny let the kitchen curtain fall closed, and he clumped his way back to the kitchen table, where he collapsed into the chair he had been sitting in earlier.
Torn somewhere between despondent and exhilarated, he reached out and touched the seat of the chair Luke had been sitting in.
It was still warm.
Danny sighed. He really had to get laid. Please, God, just once.
Chapter 4
S INCE his erotically charged tête–à–tête with Luke earlier that morning, erotically charged from Danny’s perspective at any rate, Danny had been alone the entire day. Playing video games. Playing more video games. Facebooking with people he didn’t really know or ever want to meet. Eating. Eating again. Then eating maybe a couple more times. He could have clomped his way to the hedge and struck up a conversation with Luke, but the guy and his two helpmates were busy unloading a huge truckload of furniture, and Danny didn’t want to bother them. Instead, Danny had tried twice to strike up a conversation with the cat, but to no avail. The cat wasn’t talking. Still pissed about the bird, he supposed.
Danny wasn’t used to all the seclusion, or to the restrictions this house arrest business was making on his ability to move around and function like a normal human being. It pretty much killed that ability dead, is what it did. Danny hadn’t appreciated what a wonderful thing it was to be able to just hop in his car and go somewhere when he had a mind to, or to simply pick up a phone and call somebody when he felt like talking. No wonder people go on and on and on about the importance of freedom. It is one of those things you don’t miss until you don’t have it any more. Like sex. Of course, in Danny’s case he had never had sex to begin with, except with himself, so you’d think maybe he shouldn’t be missing it so much now.
If Danny was going this crazy being restricted to the house and yard, without access to his car and unable to use the telephone to
Similar Books
