Page 46 of Dad Next Door

I was in a vulnerable headspace and had just trauma dumped on him. Of course I was seeing things that weren’t there.

“We should...” I motioned behind me. Hopefully he knew that was my way of saying we should get back to the reception.

He nodded, his expression unreadable. “You sure you’re okay?”

“All good. Just needed to get that out of my system. And I think it’s time for another drink.”

“But not wine.” Quinn smiled, the last of the weirdness between us fading.

“Definitely not wine. Sloppy Tristan isn’t allowed to come out and play tonight.”

“I think I need to meet sloppy Tristan.” He held out his arm.

I took it, a little giddy at the old-fashioned move. “You really don’t want that unless you’re in sloppy Quinn mode and can handle the sloppiness. Do you even have a sloppy mode?”

“I have a messy one. Messy Quinn forgets he’s not on stage and randomly breaks out into song. Sometimes he even pulls out old choreo and goes full musical when no one asked.”

“Okay, I have to see that Quinn.” I grinned, feeling lighter and more settled than I had since we arrived at the venue. “I’ve always wanted to live out my teen movie fantasy of having a dance-off or a random musical number happen around me in real life.”

“I’ll serenade you any time you want, Doc. I don’t need booze for that.” He patted my hand as we walked back to the ballroom. “I’ll even dance for you.”

My brain immediately began replaying the shower dance video on his OnlyFans, but I shut those thoughts down fast. That wasn’t what he meant. I needed to stop thinking about how sexy he looked and how much I wanted to be in that shower with him.

Quinn was turning out to be an incredible friend, and I refused to mess things up because I was attracted to him. It wasn’t the first time I’d lusted after a straight guy, and it wouldn’t be the last.

10

QUINN

The party was in full swing when Tristan and I returned to the ballroom. A DJ was set up on a small platform, and most of the tables and chairs had been cleared away to create a huge dance floor.

“Did we miss the cake?” Tristan asked, looking around.

I spotted someone with a small plate and what looked like the remnants of cake on it. “I think we missed the cutting.”

“There’s a dessert table in the far corner.”

Tristan jumped a mile at the soft voice that rang out from behind us. His expression went from shocked to confused, then flipped to anger before settling on polite detachment.

“Thanks.” Tristan turned to the man who was standing behind us. “How are you, Jace?”

I’d only seen Jace from afar until now. They had similar builds, and he had the same dark hair and light eyes as Tristan. At first glance, he could pass as Tristan’s younger brother or another close relative. Simon had a type.

“I’m good, thanks.” Jace flicked his gaze to me but quickly returned it to Tristan. “How have you been?”

“Good, thanks.” Tristan’s posture was stiff, but he wasn’t giving the signal that he wanted me to end the conversation. “Are you enjoying the wedding?”

“I could do without the monkey suit, but it’s been a nice night.” He bit his lip, like he was either holding himself back from saying something or gathering the courage to speak freely.

“I hear you on that.” Tristan’s smile was forced but polite. “Makes me glad I don’t have to wear this kind of thing every day.”

“Same.” Jace smiled, relaxing the slightest bit.

“Hi, I’m Quinn,” I said to give Tristan a break from the painfully awkward small talk happening.

“Jace.” He put out his hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“You too.” I shook his hand. His grip was loose, and his hands were damp with sweat. Was he nervous, or was this normal for him?

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