Page 67 of The Guy Next Door

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Page 67 of The Guy Next Door

“Yeah, they’re good people, but that seemed like a lot for you.”

“You haven’t seen me interact with anyone other than you. I’m not great around people.”

“No shit,” I tease. “You forget how we met?”

He cringes. “Yeah, but really, my therapist says it might have to do with my childhood. When Mike and I first went into foster care, at the new school, I was kind of out of it, and kids were nasty. Not that they knew what was going on, but they could tell I was off, and I guess like kids sometimes will do, when someone’s different, they came for me. And that only made me even more closed off, and I learned how to skate under the radar.”

I imagine a younger version of Zane, after all that horrifying shit he endured, with kids teasing him, adding to his misery.

“Sorry,” he says quickly. “Wow. Made that a downer real fast. That might be some kind of record.”

“It’s fine. It’s your life. I hope you don’t expect me to be happy-go-lucky all the time. And really, I like that you’re just you. Like when I saw you talking to Mom and Dad, you weren’t pretending to be charming or trying to be someone you’re not. You were the sexy, awkward-as-fuck guy I met a few weeks ago.”

“I think you’ll say anything to get more of this dick,” he says in that familiar, playful way he has.

“Would you blame me?”

He laughs. “No, I definitely would not. But back to the whole not-pretending shit, sometimes in moments like those with your parents, I wish I could summon some super-cool, chill guy whocould effortlessly navigate his way through that kind of thing, you know?”

“Eh, well, having been that guy for plenty of my life, I can tell you it’s not all it’s cracked up to be. There’s a lot of fake smiles and small talk that goes nowhere.”

“Yeah, neither sounds like my thing.”

I chuckle. “I agree. Those don’t sound like the Zane I’m getting to know at all.”

But now that we’re talking about this, it brings to mind something else I wanted to ask him about.

“What is it?” he asks.

Can this guy really read me that well?

Regardless, there’s no point keeping it from him. “That Thanksgiving dinner, I invited a friend from college, said if he knew of anyone else who needed a dinner to go to, he should invite them. Obviously, I want to invite you, but if that would make you uncomfortable…”

“Leif, of course I’m coming. I can get over my fucking bullshit to spend more time with you.”

I do a double take.

“Oh, you like knowing that, don’t you?” he asks, and my cheeks warm. “Why is that making you fucking blush? You know I enjoy spending time with you, right?”

“You haven’t said it like that before. I know we do a lot of bedroom stuff, but…”

“Bedroom stuff?” He chuckles. “I don’t know that you’re old enough to mess around with me if that’s what you’re calling me fucking you.”

I laugh. “That’s obviously what I meant. I don’t even know why I said it like that.”

“I assumed you noticed I enjoyed spending time with you beyond fucking. Don’t get me wrong, I like that too, but if there’s any question in your pretty head about what we’re doing, letme be very direct and reiterate that I do. It would make you uncomfortable knowinghow muchI enjoy spending time with you.”

I sneak a glance, and he wears that familiar determined, deadly serious expression.

God, why did he have to go and say the Zane-iest thing he could say?

It only makes him that much more adorable.

And makes me realize I’m really crushing on this guy.

Me, Leif Anderson, crushing on a dude. That’s not something I ever imagined.

“I enjoy spending time with you too,” I confess.




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