Page 13 of Infamous Heart

“I have the Millennium Falcon in a glass case in my office. I’ll deny it if you ever tell anybody, but I got it as a gift last Christmas from my Nonna and we spent the day putting it together. Can’t be more embarrassing than that.”

If I kissed this man right here, would anybody care? If he spent as much time on his grooming as he did his clothes, I could assume his beard would be soft against my face.

“Superheroes. Vanguard City has more superhero sightings than any other city in the United States.” I chugged the rest of my drink. “I’m a comic book geek.” It might have become more mainstream with the number of superheroes running around in their leather uniforms, but it still came with a stigma.

“Legos and comics. It sounds like we need to have a play date.”

His euphemism hung in the open, while I stared at the open top button of his shirt. The dark chest hair underneath teased a hairy torso, but not so much that it would hide the contour of his muscles. The table hid my erection as I imagined the buttons tearing off his shirt.

“We can save that for the second date.”

“Second?” Why did I keep acting like it was impossible for this hunk of a man to be into me? Come on, Griff, you can play his game.

“You bring the Legos, and we’ll have a slumber party.” Okay, not my best line, but I think it deserved an A for effort.

He scooted to the edge of his chair, crossing his arms on the table. His tone shifted from playful to serious. Could I have offended him? Did he not like to share his Legos?

“Since you asked me here to talk business, let’s finish that and then you can decide if you want a second date.”

Underneath the light banter and obvious sexual tension, Sebastian transitioned back into business. Was he worried that I only invited him out for his connection to Revelations? I had never experienced an office romance and feared I might have intermingled my personal interests too deeply into my professional life. The moment I thought about it, I fell down a rabbit hole of self-doubt.

“I like your work, but Mr. Vex is extremely hands on. I can give him a recommendation, but he’ll want to talk to you himself. I can get you an interview, but it’s up to you to get the job.”

Instinctively, I reached across the table, resting my hand on his arm. The moment I touched him, I froze at the realization of what I had done. “I want to be clear,” I eyed my hand, “Thishas nothing to do with a job.”

Instead of responding, he moved his arm. I had violated the man’s boundaries. It was dumb. This is what I get for channeling my inner Alejan—he rested his hand on mine, his thumb running circles over my knuckles.

“Good,” he said, “cause getting you a job has nothing to do with how much I want to see your comic collection.”

Swoon.

* * *

The night was young, and we were suitably tipsy. While there was a list of things I wanted to do to this man, I decided to keep my hormones in check, at least for the moment. Instead of running back to his city apartment, which I’m sure was far ritzier than my own, I wanted him to see the type of guy he was courting.

“Street food? Really?” We had sipped cocktails at a restaurant that offered bottles of wine that cost more than my paycheck. Now, I dragged him toward the theater district to my favorite post-pub-crawl street food.

“You’ll never eat a pizza this good. You need to trust me.” I tugged on his arm, standing in line. The small service window was like a fast-food drive through, but instead of cars, the line was filled with people heading to the clubs or business men who had to stay too late at work. There were suits next to crop tops and accessories, including brief cases and spiked collars.

Unlike the fancy place where we started the night, this was nothing more than a parking lot facing flat buildings. The only thing that broke up the walls of brick were alleys and the occasional rear entrance. Lando’s pizza remained a well-kept secret, but that didn’t seem to hurt the business.

“I can’t remember the last time I ate pizza,” he mused.

“Are you even human?” A single statement explained how different we were. There was no denying we came from different sides of the tracks. Knowing he came from a humble beginning meant there was common ground somewhere in there. “You didn’t have street food in Southland?”

“We had the street market, but my Nonna insisted on us eating at the dinner table.”

The line moved quickly and before he could back out, I ordered him a slice of the house special. He reached for his wallet, and I put an end to that. “On me. Besides, when it changes your life, I want all the credit.”

Once the paper plates slid into reach, I handed one to Sebastian and off we went to wander while devouring pizza. We had just cleared the parking lot, heading into the showier part of the district, lined with brilliant marquis when, I heard Sebastian swear.

“What’s wrong?”

“This pizza.” he had a mouthful, but didn’t let that stop him. “It’s amazing.”

I folded my plate in half and savored the smell as I stuffed my mouth. Whatever prim and proper manners Sebastian had, they vanished as he shoveled in another mouthful.

“It’s like sex on a plate.”

---