Page 21 of Loving You

MONTY

Monty both didand didn’t know what he was doing. Bronx was exactly his type—older, starting to grey at the temples with a nice, silvery sprinkle throughout the rest of his hair. He had delicious wrinkles by his eyes and a softer body than most of the men Monty’s age he met at the club. He had big hands and a rough, booming laugh.

He really was adorably awkward and shy and a little unsure of himself, but he had a feeling that would change in bed.

He was playing with fire because Bronx was most definitely the sort of man Monty could fall in love with, and he knew that was dangerous. He was surrounded by painful divorces and terrible custody battles all day. He had been since he’d started working as an intern while he was studying for the bar.

He’d seen it in his own house growing up—the hatred between parents, the vindictive exes, the children caught in the middle.

In spite of fearing he’d turn out like his dad, Monty hadalways wanted to love and be loved. He wanted the powerful kind that lifted him off the ground and carried him to the heavens.

But he was a realist, and he wasn’t sure that existed. He had faith that Dallas and Kylen were good for each other, but he was also cynical enough to know he wouldn’t be surprised if they crashed and burned in a few years.

Some people grew together, and some grew apart, and there was no rhyme or reason why it happened. It just did. And he wasn’t sure any of it was worth the risk.

Maybe that made him a coward. And maybe he’d end up dying a lonely old man because he chased hookup after hookup, running after a handful of weeks at best.

Maybe he’d be full of regret when his twilight years came and went.

But right now, he felt safe. And he felt good about his decision as he stared at Bronx, who had his eyes fixed on the road. There was a hint of color in his cheeks and a smile on his lips. Monty caught a glimpse of his expression as they passed under the lights of a strip mall. Then his smile turned shy.

“I can feel you staring.”

Monty grinned and looked away. “Sorry. You’re really good-looking, and I think I’m a little surprised you want this with me.”

Bronx made a startled noise. “An attractive lawyer with an amazing body and sexy accent?”

Monty flushed. “It’s not that sexy. It’s…muddled. I’ve lived in the States for a long time.”

“It’s sexy,” Bronx confirmed, lifting his chin without glancing over. “I could listen to it all night.”

“Maybe you’ll get the chance.” Monty hadn’t felt boldenough to flirt like this in a long while. He used to be good at it, but after several dating disasters that left him either paralyzed or unconscious, he’d lost his confidence.

It didn’t help that he’d attempted to woo Kylen and had been turned down after a single sentence—not that he blamed him. Kylen had already been in love with Dallas at that point. But it had shaken his confidence, so to have it come back like this was surprising.

It felt oddly serendipitous that he was in Bronx’s car—that the path to his latest lover had come from his two new best friends.

“You should know I was serious when I said I haven’t done this in a while,” Bronx said as they turned onto Monty’s street. “Like, alongwhile. My ex and I stopped sleeping together over a year ago, and I haven’t even tried to look elsewhere since the divorce.”

“Well, it’s just like riding a bike, no?” Monty asked. He made an up-and-down gesture with his hand, and Bronx burst into laughter.

“I can safely say I’ve never fucked someone that reminded me of riding a bike, but I’m willing to try.”

Monty grinned. He liked making Bronx laugh. He liked the feeling he got in his chest because he suspected Bronx didn’t have a lot to laugh about right now. But he had lines around his eyes and commas at the corners of his mouth that said he used to smile more.

If Monty could give him that—even for just a short while—he’d consider it a win.

“This is me,” he said, though the GPS had already indicated it.

He lived in an attached town house with a small yard. It was ranch-style because he was afraid of stairs, thanks to his fainting and cataplexy. He didn’t want to go out from abroken neck because his body decided to collapse while he was heading down to his kitchen.

“Nice place,” Bronx said as he pulled into the driveway. “I’m okay here, right?”

“You’re fine. I don’t have a car.” Monty could see Bronx frown, and he probably wanted to ask why. It was a strange thing not to drive in a town that had so little public transportation. But Bronx kept his mouth shut, and Monty appreciated it because it always got weird when they found out.

And it usually ended before he was satisfied.

He checked in with himself as he opened the door and stood up. He was feeling good—better than usual, in fact, and he prayed it would last through the night. He waited for Bronx to lock up, and then he led the way inside, flipping on the soft living room lights before gesturing around.

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