Page 86 of Dad Next Door

We were both stressed out and exhausted, and I’d been looking forward to our date tonight all week.

I was about to put my phone down so I could pick what I was going to wear when it pinged with a text. I glanced at the screen and the photo he’d sent. My heart skipped a beat.

A few weeks ago, he’d started sending me what he called the Quinn version of whatever photos he posted on his social media. The pics he took for work were full of ab shots and cocky grins. The ones I got were completely different.

Those were sensual and sexy in their own right, but it was his soft smiles and the teasing clothing lifts that showed only a few inches of skin that made them all the more special.

He’d picked up how I preferred mystery to nudity, and it made me ridiculously giddy to know I was the only one who got these custom photos. His fans might lust after the image of himself he’d created for them, but I was the only one who got to see the real him. The only one he wanted to be with.

This photo was no different. He’d taken it in his bathroom, the steamy air billowing around him and his hair and skin dripping from his shower. A bright yellow towel was tied around his waist, showing off his incredible physique, but the thing I couldn’t look away from wasn’t his washboard abs or the impressive dick print in the towel. It was his shy smile and the softness in his expression.

I saved the photo, then sent back a row of the ‘hot’ emoji, the one where the face was red and sweating.

Quinn: Let me see that gorgeous face of yours.

Asking for a pic in return was something he’d started doing too. I still couldn’t wrap my brain around the idea of sending him random pics of myself, even though he’d told me multiple times he wanted them.

The last time I’d dated was in the era when people used digital cameras, and texting photos wasn’t included in most phone plans. I’d never sent anyone pictures of myself as a form of flirting, and I had no clue how to pose without looking like I was getting my photo done at the DMV. But even with my awkwardness, Quinn liked them, and that had done more for my confidence than he would ever know.

Turning so I was facing my full-length mirror, I opened the camera and snapped a bunch of pics, then flipped through them to find the best one.

He replied with a line of hot emoji and a few of the water drops.

Quinn: Can’t wait to see you tonight

Tristan: Me too. I’ve been looking forward to it all week

Quinn: me too

Tristan: are you going to tell me where we’re going?

Quinn: nope

Quinn: that would negate the whole surprise aspect of the date

Tristan: when you say business casual, does that mean work business casual or social event business casual?

Quinn: it means not jeans and not a full suit

Tristan: that doesn’t narrow it down as much as you think it does

Quinn: you’re overthinking things again Doc

Tristan: that’s my vibe, or have you forgotten?

Quinn: lol I haven’t forgotten. Don’t worry too much about what you wear. Tonight isn’t about fashion, it’s about celebrating the end of a long as fuck week and enjoying the little time we have together

Tristan: okay. No jeans and not a full suit. Got it

Tristan: I take it you managed to get a workout in?

Quinn: yup, finished up about 20 minutes ago

Quinn: I wish I could say I’m texting you in only a towel, but it’s cold in my room so I’m currently wearing my blanket hoodie and a pair of pizza space cat pants

Tristan: pizza space cat pants? Those sound like the best thing ever

A new photo loaded, then another. The first was a grinning Quinn in a baby blue hoodie made of what looked like the same material as the Sherpa blankets I had piled up all over the house. The next was a close-up of the pattern on his pajama pants.