“No?”
He shook his head. “An ad in the LA Times would be fine.”
I snorted. “Is that all?”
He nodded. “Or a whole page ad in Sexy Geek. I hear their running a special edition titled How to Keep your Sexy Geek Satisfied.”
I couldn’t help but grin. “Really? I should definitely buy that.”
“You should subscribe,” he said, like it was a matter of fact. “Now, given we’re incognito, I’m going back downstairs to have a coffee, see if I can pick up some random hottie.”
My mouth fell open, and a pang of hurt bloomed in my heart. How did we go from joking to him wanting someone else? “What?”
He quickly took my hand and squeezed it. “I was only joking!”
“Oh.”
I think my reaction secretly pleased him. “But, later, if whathisname doesn’t turn up, I’ll be hanging around pretending not to know you, and if you’re, you know, not too busy, you can try your best pick-up lines on me.” His whole face softened. “You’re my random hottie, Spencer.”
My heart tripped all over itself. “Oh. Well, that’s all right then. Because if there was a magazine called The Only Guy Spencer Wants, you’d be on the cover.”
He smiled so perfectly. So happy and smug and shy, all rolled into one.
I looked around for the closest bathroom to drag him into, because seriously, I wanted him. I didn’t just want him in my bed, I wanted him in my life. For the next however long. Forever, probably. And that realisation—the forever kind of realisation—rattled me. I had known this guy for just a few weeks, but he was perfect for me. Not a perfect person, because no one was, but perfect for me. The yin to my yang, the piece to my puzzle, the jazz and classical to my rock and blues. We were compatible on an intellectual level, and physically… well, I could only imagine what it was going to be like when we finally started having actual fuck sessions. I was pretty sure we’d never stop. And the word forever didn’t just drift through my mind like an errant thought. It stomped.
Me, the guy who purposely kept people at arm’s length, was thinking of relationships of the permanent variety. Maybe it was the absurd butterflies in my stomach that made my ludicrous endorphins mess with the synapses in my stupid brain.
“You okay?” Andrew asked, concern written all over his face.
“I am super great,” I answered, ignoring the butterflies trying to escape through my chest.
“Super great? Is that a thing?”
“Yes.” According to my stupid brain, it’s very much a thing. “Yes it is.”
He laughed. “Okay, then. I’m going to grab a coffee,” he said, leaving me on the second floor with my brain still stuck on that one word. Forever. And those bloody butterflies that turned my stomach into a roiling mess made my feet stick to the floor and plastered a ridiculous grin on my face, and I wasn’t sure if I wanted to holler from the rooftops as to how happy I was. Or vomit.
It wasn’t until some guy looked at me like I was some sort of creeper that I made myself move. I stood at the shelves of books with a view of the front door, but also of the tables and chairs of the coffee shop inside the store. Andrew ordered and took a seat, kind of looking at the entrance, but I could still see his face. He was wearing a smile similar to mine, I’d imagine. It was an unstoppable smile, a can’t-help-it smile, a he-must-feel-the-same-way smile.
I was just about to pull the pin on this foolish covert operation and drag Andrew out of here. I fully intended to forgo the jazz bar and just take him home and take him to bed. But figured I should at least pretend to look over some books to buy for Andrew. I was in the crime section as it turned out, and that wasn’t really my genre of choice. With one eye on the doors and one eye on the shelves, and an occasional glance at a still-smiling Andrew, I took out my phone and shot him a text. You’re really hot, you know that?
I watched as he pulled out his phone. His grin was instantaneous. He thumbed the screen for a second, and my phone buzzed straight after. Is that your best pick up line? Because it needs work.
I laughed quietly at my screen and quickly typed back my response. Oh, I can do much better than that…
But then I noticed a guy walk into the store who looked familiar, and when I looked again, I could see it was Lance.
He scoured the floor first, kind of slinking off to the side. Then he was underneath the second floor where I was standing, and I lost visual contact. I sent a quick text to Andrew—He’s here.—and pocketed my phone.