handsome man, who knows how to sell things with his body.
He's not just another hot guy anymore.
He could so easily have passed me over to Charlotte and washed his hands of all this, but he didn't. He cared enough to do this for me. And he knew not to put me through the wringer any further, by taking me into a room full of people in the state I was in, which would have meant ruining the evening for Charlotte and everyone else. He's thoughtful, caring and kind natured.
And now I like him so much more than just physically.
I turn my thoughts back to his photos, as he's waiting expectantly for my answer. “They're exciting, beautiful, sexy and really grab my attention. They're more than lovely. And very you." My voice is little more than a whisper, as I reach up and brush the skin of his cheek with my finger.
I lower my hand, placing it back on my lap. He covers it with his and gives it a reassuring squeeze. My stomach does an amazing flip of joy. It's such a contrast to how I was feeling a few minutes ago, it almost takes my breath away.
“You got a favorite?”
“The black sports car. You look so happy in that one.”
“Yeah, I was...that shot was taken at the Ferrari Challenge race being run at Watkins Glen, just after I moved here. That's a special edition Ferrari Scuderia. Fuck, that was such a cool car.”
“Did you drive it?”
“Sadly not. It was part of an assignment, a Gillette Fusion Proglide ad.”
“Ra zors?”
“Oh no, no, you can't call them razors...that's sacrilege. These are something else...they're five blades of precisely sharpened finest facial engineering. And not only that, they have two strips, one with aloe and the other one actually lathers.”
I can't help but giggle. I know he's trying to distract my mind, and it's working.
“Five blades and lather, how about that!”
“Oh yeah, shaving with anything less than five blades is like scraping your beard off with a dull hatchet. And these are the thinnest, sharpest blades. And the flex-ball head gets in those difficult angles, so you catch virtually every hair. Eve n the little bastard ones right here,” he says touching the underside of his nose with his finger, “ leaving the face and neck smoother than a baby's ass.”
“You don't seem to use Gillette's very often, do you?” I note, staring at his very heavy stubble. I'm trying to keep my hands to myself, because I'm absolutely dying to feel it, very thoroughly.
“No, I can't stand shaving, but it was a great job and I got to sit in a shit-hot limited edition Ferrari. I'd happily shave non stop for a whole week to do that again.”
We both laugh together, and it's a sweet feeling. Especially sweet after the big sour.
“Sean, can I ask why you moved to New York? Isn't L.A. a better place to be for your line of work?”
“To be honest it is, but I had various reasons for leaving. Business, family, personal. At that point in my life, I really needed to break away from L.A. Things weren't so great.”
I wondered what had caused such a need, that forced him to move from the Pacific to the Atlantic coast.
I'd felt that need to escape myself. I could have studied in Chicago, but I wanted a change, the challenge of something new and different. To be honest, I needed to escape the ghost of my sister. I didn't think I'd ever stop grieving while I lived at home with my parents. Everything in that house reminded me of her and what we'd lost when she died. My parents sold up and moved on shortly afterward. My dad relocated his accounting practice to Florida. I guess they felt the same.
“I felt like that when I left Chicago. It was a new beginning, all on my own. And for me it meant independence.”
“Mmm, a brand new life, that can have a lot of appeal,” he agrees, as his gaze holds mine. He smiles very broadly and naturally at me, all beautiful white teeth, stubbly chin and crinkled eyes.
"So, how are you feeling now? You seem a lot calmer.”
"I'm slowly recovering, I
He's not just another hot guy anymore.
He could so easily have passed me over to Charlotte and washed his hands of all this, but he didn't. He cared enough to do this for me. And he knew not to put me through the wringer any further, by taking me into a room full of people in the state I was in, which would have meant ruining the evening for Charlotte and everyone else. He's thoughtful, caring and kind natured.
And now I like him so much more than just physically.
I turn my thoughts back to his photos, as he's waiting expectantly for my answer. “They're exciting, beautiful, sexy and really grab my attention. They're more than lovely. And very you." My voice is little more than a whisper, as I reach up and brush the skin of his cheek with my finger.
I lower my hand, placing it back on my lap. He covers it with his and gives it a reassuring squeeze. My stomach does an amazing flip of joy. It's such a contrast to how I was feeling a few minutes ago, it almost takes my breath away.
“You got a favorite?”
“The black sports car. You look so happy in that one.”
“Yeah, I was...that shot was taken at the Ferrari Challenge race being run at Watkins Glen, just after I moved here. That's a special edition Ferrari Scuderia. Fuck, that was such a cool car.”
“Did you drive it?”
“Sadly not. It was part of an assignment, a Gillette Fusion Proglide ad.”
“Ra zors?”
“Oh no, no, you can't call them razors...that's sacrilege. These are something else...they're five blades of precisely sharpened finest facial engineering. And not only that, they have two strips, one with aloe and the other one actually lathers.”
I can't help but giggle. I know he's trying to distract my mind, and it's working.
“Five blades and lather, how about that!”
“Oh yeah, shaving with anything less than five blades is like scraping your beard off with a dull hatchet. And these are the thinnest, sharpest blades. And the flex-ball head gets in those difficult angles, so you catch virtually every hair. Eve n the little bastard ones right here,” he says touching the underside of his nose with his finger, “ leaving the face and neck smoother than a baby's ass.”
“You don't seem to use Gillette's very often, do you?” I note, staring at his very heavy stubble. I'm trying to keep my hands to myself, because I'm absolutely dying to feel it, very thoroughly.
“No, I can't stand shaving, but it was a great job and I got to sit in a shit-hot limited edition Ferrari. I'd happily shave non stop for a whole week to do that again.”
We both laugh together, and it's a sweet feeling. Especially sweet after the big sour.
“Sean, can I ask why you moved to New York? Isn't L.A. a better place to be for your line of work?”
“To be honest it is, but I had various reasons for leaving. Business, family, personal. At that point in my life, I really needed to break away from L.A. Things weren't so great.”
I wondered what had caused such a need, that forced him to move from the Pacific to the Atlantic coast.
I'd felt that need to escape myself. I could have studied in Chicago, but I wanted a change, the challenge of something new and different. To be honest, I needed to escape the ghost of my sister. I didn't think I'd ever stop grieving while I lived at home with my parents. Everything in that house reminded me of her and what we'd lost when she died. My parents sold up and moved on shortly afterward. My dad relocated his accounting practice to Florida. I guess they felt the same.
“I felt like that when I left Chicago. It was a new beginning, all on my own. And for me it meant independence.”
“Mmm, a brand new life, that can have a lot of appeal,” he agrees, as his gaze holds mine. He smiles very broadly and naturally at me, all beautiful white teeth, stubbly chin and crinkled eyes.
"So, how are you feeling now? You seem a lot calmer.”
"I'm slowly recovering, I
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