Page 2 of Winning the Dad
Was that a dig at my size? I was bulky, courtesy of the many hours I spent in the gym, and fuck knew people had prejudices. But when I looked sideways, he grinned and winked at me.
Oh.Oh.
He was flirting with me. That was what it was, right? Flirting? I wasn’t used to men hitting on me, but I couldn’t complain about a lack of interest from women, and I recognized the signs. Did he think I was gay? Or bi? That would be a first, and in a strange way, it made me proud.
Before Romero had come out, I’d been technically fine with gay people as long as I didn’t have to see it. I’d seen events like Pride as rubbing it in our faces. “Our” being normal people. The heteros.
Then Romero came out, causing me to take a long, hard look in the mirror. And hadn’t liked what I’d seen. The reality was that I’d been a homophobic asshole, and thinking back on my reactions always left a bitter taste in my mouth. I’d changed, but my past attitude would always leave a stain.
So a guy flirting with me made me strangely happy, as if I’d leveled up. I didn’t look away but did what I would’ve done if he’d been a woman. I grinned back. “Can’t deny I love me some trouble…of a certain kind.”
His eyes widened, but then he treated me to a slow, thorough once-over. “Mmm, I’d be interested in your kind of trouble.”
Tim coughed to cover up a laugh, but Frat Boy muttered an expletive. “Can you guys do that gay shit somewhere else?”
My smile faded. Fifteen years earlier, that could’ve been me. “Why? Does it make you uncomfortable?”
“I’m not homophobic, but no one needs to see that.”
“See what? We’ve hardly exchanged more than a few words, and there’s a good four feet between him and me. Why would that be an issue?”
He mumbled something, gathered the few chips he had left, and stalked off.
“Well, that solved a problem.” Tim sighed with relief. “I love it when the trash takes itself out.”
I only now noticed his rainbow-themed watchband and the discrete little Pride pin on his tie. It sucked that he’d had to hear that too. “I’m sorry.”
“Why are you apologizing? He was in the wrong.”
The other guy scooted a seat over and sat next to me, extending his hand. “I’m Sawyer.”
“Jack.” His handshake lingered a tad too long, but I didn’t mind the warm tingles.
“Where are you from, Jack?”
“A small town called Forestville in Washington, about an hour east of Seattle. You?”
“San Diego.”
Tim had dealt me a two and a nine, so I doubled down. The next card was a ten of spades. Blackjack.
“Nice,” Sawyer said.
“It seems luck is on my side.”
Sawyer winced when he hit twenty-three. “At least the company makes up for my lack of luck at the table.”
He said it smoothly, accompanied by another wink, and I smiled again. Sawyer was easy on the eyes. Romero would’ve probably called him a silver Daddy, and with reason. Sawyer had salt-and-pepper hair, neatly styled, and a slim, fit build. His tanned, angular, clean-shaven face accentuated his brilliant ocean-blue eyes. Eyes you could get lost in.
Sawyer didn’t seem bothered by me checking him out and returned the favor, letting his eyes roam freely over my body. My belly fluttered, much to my surprise. Was it because I felt flattered? Proud that this man would flirt with me? Maybe even honored?
No, that was ridiculous. Feeling flattered or honored didn’t cause this strange softness inside me…or my cock to perk up. No, this was something else. This was…attraction.
Holy shit, I was attracted to Sawyer. Well, that was unexpected.
Tim fanned himself with his hand. “Imma need a fire extinguisher if you two keep this up. I can literally see the sparks fly.”
With effort, I dragged my eyes away from Sawyer. It took a second or two to realize Tim had dealt us a new hand and was waiting for my instructions. What cards did I have? A nine and a ten. That was easy, and I made the hand signal for staying.