Page 38 of Tameron

“No need to apologize.” His fingers brushed over mine. “But we should probably talk about what this means.”

“You’re not angry with me?”

Something flashed over his face too quickly for me to make out. “No, not at all. We’re good, I promise.”

“You knew that guy.”

“Marcus? Yeah, we dated. Years ago. And we run into each other from time to time.”

A completely irrational flash of anger burned through me at the thought that they’d been together. “He’s your type?”

“No, but he scratched an itch. We weren’t good together, but we weren’t bad either. Just…good enough, I suppose.”

“What’s your type? In men, I mean.”

He shook his head. “This is not about me. This is about you and your type, what you want to do with your newfound attraction to men.”

Well, my type was Brendan Fraser. And Dayton. But hell if I was telling him that. I’d already shown way too much of my hand tonight. I needed to keep at least some dignity. “I have no idea what my type is…other than Brendan Fraser.”

He laughed. “He’s everyone’s type, straight, gay, bi, pan, and anything else. If you don’t like him, there’s something wrong with you.”

“I guess I’m not special, then, but I don’t know anything else.”

“You didn’t like Marcus? He’s considered attractive, objectively speaking.”

I could barely repress a shudder. “He’s too…glib. He’s a player.”

“That he is. He’s arrogant, for sure. But most guys don’t mind if they’re just looking for a quick fuck.”

I had cockblocked him. It only now registered with me that I’d failed as his wingman. Instead, I’d forced him to return home…without having scored. “I’m sorry I ruined your chances tonight. For scoring.”

He shrugged. “I wasn’t really feeling it anyway.”

That was strangely comforting to hear. “I’m sorry anyway.”

“I got to kiss you.”

My cheeks heated at the memory. That had been an amazing kiss. One of the best I’d ever received, if not the best. Or was that because he was the first man I’d kissed and it was still so new? “Yeah. That was…”

I vaguely gestured, not having a clue how to put that into sign. Hell, I didn’t even have actual words.

“It was a great kiss.”

I perked up. “Yeah?”

“You didn’t think so?”

“It was fantastic. Ten out of ten. Five-star rating.”

One of the things I missed most when not wearing my hearing aids was the sound of laughter. Dayton had a great laugh. Very rich, melodious. I was glad I could hear it.

His laughter died down, but his eyes remained bright with mirth. “I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

“I did.” I hesitated, then added, “I wouldn’t mind doing it again.”

His expression shifted, growing more serious. His hands hesitated as emotions flashed over his face. Fuck, I’d crossed a line. I shouldn’t have asked. Offered. He’d made clear he wanted to be my friend, not some kind of experiment for me to explore my newfound bisexuality with. “Is that a no?”

“No. But we need to talk about this some more. Make sure we set clear expectations, that we’re on the same page. What do you want from this? From me?”

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