"Oh my God! You are so fucking tall!"
I stepped back. "Are you okay? Is that okay?"
God, I hoped I hadn't scared him already.
He stood, laughing. "Why wouldn't it be? Hell, for some guys, it's an entire personality."
I grinned and shook my head. "Nah, I grew up in foster homes, so I have an amazing personality."
He cracked up. "It's weird because you're saying something tragic and funny, and yet...you really do look like you could murder me."
"Actually, blood makes me woozy."
"Worst serial killer ever."
"Truly a career that ended before it began," I said, chuckling.
Stitching his brows together, Alfie ran his hand up my arm. "How did you handle so many tattoos if you can't stand the sight of blood?"
I grimaced. "Mostly, I keep my eyes closed and meditate. Also, I only let my brother tattoo me, so it's okay if I faint."
"Wait, your brother did all of these?"
Grinning proudly, I nodded. "Yep. Reuben specializes in surrealism, both with paint and tattoos."
"I bet your tattoos are all over his lookbooks."
"As a matter of fact, they are."
Alfie grinned at me, then looked down, shuffling his feet.
"What's this expression?" I asked. "Are you already trying to figure out how to let me down easy?"
Shit, I really liked this guy.
He shook his head. "Not at all. It's just...you're all growly-looking and tattooed, and I really want to give you a hug."
I bit back a moan, imagining his body against mine. "God, I haven't had a good hug or snuggle in a long time. That sounds amazing."
“Well?” he asked, raising his brows.
I opened my arms, and he stepped right up to me, no hesitation at all, and wrapped his arms around me. I hugged him tight and probably held him for a little longer than was appropriate for a first interaction.
He didn’t pull away, though. Instead, he stuck his face into my neck, and I shivered.
"What the fuck are you wearing?" he asked, directing his bright smile at me. His brown eyes sparkled as the wind shuffled through his curly black hair. "I want to bathe in this cologne."
I scrubbed the back of my neck, dipping my head. "Le Labo."
"Fancy."
He chewed his thumbnail, awkwardly stepping away. I could tell it was just nerves, though, and resisted the urge to pull him back against me.
"I'm a simple guy,” I said, feeling the need to explain myself, “but...I have a few small splurges."
"I like it," he assured me, grinning as his fingers traced the abstract skull-and-rose tattoo on the back of my hand.
I couldn’t tell what I liked better—Alfie’s beautiful smile, or the way it made his eyes crinkle around the edges. He was the kind of guy who lit up a space, and his whole body smiled with him. I bet he'd be so responsive under my?—
