Chapter Two – What Misunderstanding?
Could he be so bold as to hope for sex in an elevator? Danny snorted at his own assumption. Once inside the contraption meant to take them to his modest studio apartment on the twelfth floor of the mid-rise building, Ryder had moved away from him, looking around with curious eyes. It was an odd thing to think that this wild man had never taken an elevator before, but it looked like that to Danny.
Or maybe Mr. Tough Guy was afraid of traveling in a box moved up and down by cables. Modern times came with modern phobias, as he well knew. For instance, he suffered a lot from nomophobia, and he wasn’t working on getting over it, either. Just to be sure, he tapped his back pocket. Phew, his phone was still there.
“It’s a bit high, but it was a steal for being on the top floor and all that,” he babbled to fill the awkward silence between them.
The reason for being a steal was quite simple; Danny was luckily a heavy sleeper or the constant noise of the big AC units on the roof just above his studio apartment would drive him nuts. Well, Vince was big on him doctoring his photos. How about doctoring his life a little? He had one of those last floor studio apartments that qualified as bachelor pads for the young and affluential.
Just saying that in his own head made him snort again.
“Can you see the Pembroke building from your window?” Ryder asked.
Danny’s only reply was a short shake of the head. He’d just been caught staring a bit too closely. Even if they were about to do that sort of thing together, it didn’t mean that Danny could ogle his would-be partner so shamelessly.
Ryder seemed like the serious type. Danny could only hope that didn’t mean that his night guest was also the serial killer type. Damn it, he needed to stop watching true crime television. Vince had tried to wean him off it for a long time but curiosity still got the better of him whenever his evenings were free.
Which, of course, they usually were, because he was lousy at the dating game. Tonight however, Danny thought, while taking in his guest’s profile as surreptitiously as he could manage, things would be different. He had a date. Or a hookup. Or a hookup opportunity.
Damn, he really needed to stop overthinking everything to death. Or just stop thinking altogether.
***
Comments (0)
See all