Page 106 of Studious
He kisses me, takes my hand, and walks over. Some of his normal confidence has returned, and I don’t think it’s bravado. I think knowing we’re together is giving him strength.
“Brian,” he says, and the guy startles.
“Danny.”
Danny lets go of my hand long enough to give him a bro hug but then clasps it again. “Hey. Good to see you. Um, this is my boyfriend, Alden Meyer.”
Brian gives me what looks like a genuine smile. “Nice to meet you.” He turns his attention to Danny. “Wow. You look great.”
“Thanks.” I can feel the tension washing out of Danny. Because this is him facing his personal bogeyman.
Except that Brian’s just a man. He’s normal. Seems like he’s happy enough.
They chat for a few minutes about what they’ve been doing in recent years, and then Brian digs in his pocket and produces a small box. “I know this is weird, but I found this in my things, and I thought I’d return it. I know I hurt you. But I think things turned out for the best. Don’t you?”
Danny takes the box and chuckles, turning it over in his hand. “Yeah,” he says. He smiles at me. “Things really did turn out for the best.”
* * *
We stay for dinner and dessert, but after a few dances, Danny turns to me and mutters in my ear, “Let’s get out of here.”
I grin. “One?”
“One,” he confirms.
When we get there, both wearing tuxedos and looking sharp, every eye turns to take us in. I feel like, yeah, my boyfriend is hot. You wish you had him.
He gets me a soda, and we dance, laughing and smiling and having a great time. When it’s time for a break and we’re waiting at the bar for another drink, some guy comes up and taps Danny’s shoulder. “Hey, you busy later?”
Old me would be so jealous.
No, old me would be hiding in the corner. Old me would’ve never come here. Old me wouldn’t know I even liked to dance.
But it’s a new Danny, too. He slings an arm around my shoulders and kisses my cheek. “Yep, I’m busy with the love of my life.” He gives a “What can you do?” sort of shrug, and the guy slinks away.
I lean into Danny, trying not to be smug. I don’t want to be smug. I mean, not everyone can find true love the way we have.
Okay, yes. I’m smug. “I’m so happy I have you all to myself,” I say into his ear.
He pulls me into his arms and kisses me.
Then the kiss turns deeper.
Then it turns dirty. Tongues sliding against each other and hands caressing bodies until I whisper, “Time to go somewhere more private.”
“Your place or mine?” he asks.
“Wherever you are is good enough for me.”
We tumble out into the night. It’s a warm Los Angeles evening, and people are standing around outside vaping and smoking. We’re too engrossed in each other to pay much attention to anything else.
When we get to the Lyft, I have to hold myself back from sitting in Danny’s lap. We kiss and kiss and kiss, then barely say goodbye to the driver before spilling into his house. “This really should be your house, too,” he says.
“Okay,” I agree, and he grins against my mouth.
Since I spend more time here than at my own house anyway, and my mom’s feeling so much better, it’s the logical choice.
Only logic has nothing to do with it. It’s all for love.
