“I wouldn’t say that,” I answer, “but I won’t refuse to watch something just because it’s animated.”

“What classics have I missed because I assumed they were kids cartoons?” Kier’s blue eyes sparkle like he’s teasing me. Indulging me. It’s a playful side of him I didn’t expect but want more of.

“Spiderman Into the Spider Verse. And the sequel, Across the Spider Verse.”

Kier freezes with his drink halfway to his mouth. “You didn’t even have to pause to think about it.”

“Nothing to think about. The animated moves are better than the live action Spiderman movies, in my opinion.”

“Tell me.”

“Well—” I rub the back of my neck while I gather my thoughts “—the characters have more depth. They feel like real people. For example, the Spiderman character doesn’t just get bitten by a spider and become a superhero, he learns that he already possesses the qualities a hero needs, and now he’s capable of building on those qualities at a hero level. And the graphics aren’t overdone. They help tell the story, but they don’t overpower it, so you come away thinking about the story itself and not the images used to tell it.”

Kier’s mouth is parted in a way that usually means I’m speaking above someone’s head, and I mentally berate myself for nerding out on him. Until he blinks and says, “I don’t think I’ll ever look at an animated movie the same way again.”

“Is that good, or—"

“Good. Definitely good.” His smile is part intrigued and part…awed. Like I’ve taught him something he wasn’t expecting to learn, and while that might be my imagination talking, I can’t deny loving the factImay have opened his eyes.

Speaking of eyes, his indigo ones are locked on mine again, and for the second—or third or fourth—time this evening, I feel like they’re seeing more than just my face. Even weirder, I don’t feel exposed under his intense scrutiny. I feel sort of validated, like there’s something worth seeing.

Why Kier Caldwell would find me that interesting I have no idea, especially considering we’ve yet to talk about the one thing I know we have in common. The one thing he’d have reason to regard me appreciatively for, assuming he found my thoughts worthy.

It gives my battered heart a little spark of hope that I’m not destined to be the guy who’s always the friend, never the boyfriend. Not that Kier would ever see me as more than a friend—he’s too smart and accomplished and out of my league—but thatsomeonecould.

Just then Kier frowns, and my happy moment is ripped away. “What’s wrong?” I ask, heartbeat thundering in my ears as I wait for his reply.

“They just announced last call.”

Groaning internally, I briefly wish we were at a club instead of a neighborhood bar, which would give us several more hours together. Of course, that would mean we’d never have met, since I doubt either of us are the club type.

“I don’t want the night to end.” My face heats as the words I didn’t intend to say aloud reach my ears.

Kier Adam’s apple drops down his throat with such slowness it feels like we’re in the Matrix we talked about earlier, where time is relative. Then he brings his hooded gaze to mine and whispers throatily, “Me either.”

Is it possible? Could he see me as more than a friend for just this one night?

Summoning every ounce of adventure I possess, I whisper back. “Take me to your place?”

***

I barely have time to take in the dark-hued room that looks twice the size of my own before Kier has my back pressed against the wall, caged between his arms, body flush with mine.

“Tell me to stop,” he pleads even as he grinds his hips against me.

“No.”

He leans forward as if to steal a kiss, stopping mere inches from my lips. “I’m too old for you.”

“You don’t know how old I am.”

“Twenty-one?” His warm breath skims over my mouth.

“Twenty-two.” I lick my lips, knowing that will speak to his lust.

Kier’s eyes fall shut as he rocks forward, grazing his swollen shaft along mine with a curt shake of his head. “A decade younger than me. Too young.”

“Not by my math. Besides, I’m old enough to know what this is.”