Or maybe that’s stupid old me reading way more into it than I should. I get the sense the guy’s older than me but he’s in damn good shape, making it difficult for me to guess his true age. Mid-thirties, maybe?
I nod.
He closes his menu and orders for us—in French—and the server takes our menus and leaves.
Leo leans in close. “You’re in for the experience of a lifetime over these next few months. Hope you’re ready for it.”
“I don’t really have a choice but to be ready.” I hope my hand’s not shaking too badly as I reach for my glass and take a sip.
“Good attitude to have. And we can get you a ticket to the balls for your girlfriend, too.”
I’m already shaking my head before the thought hits me that maybe he’s fishing.
Or, maybe he’s not. Probably not. Not with my luck.
“No girlfriend. I’m single.”
“Ah.”
“And gay.”
I don’t know why I threw that in there.
Wait, that’s not right.
Itotallydo.
Iwantthis man, as stupid as that sounds. I want him to want me, too. Except I don’t know why he’d wantme, even if I am lucky enough that he might be singleandgay.
There go his eyes, narrowing again as he smiles. “Good.”
And there goes my cock, once again achingly hard in my slacks.
Yikes.
* * * *
I spend lunch with my mind mired in a weird mix of lusting after Leo and paying rapt attention to his every word as he humors me and answers all my questions.
Including questions about him, although he seems to have a deft way of steering me away from some topics without me even realizing he’s doing it until later. By then, we’ve already moved on to another subject.
I’m shocked to learn he’s eighteen years older than me, but he damn sure doesn’t look like he’s forty.
I haven’t had the balls to outright ask him if he’s gay and single. He’s skillfully dancing around the topic, and the way he’s doing it leads me to think maybe he is gay, and maybe he is single.
Except I’m not…sure? And maybe that’s totally inappropriate to talk about, anyway.
But he damn sure is great to talk to. I haven’t had this much fun in a long time.
Lunch… I mean, I take pictures of everything, so I won’t forget. Leo orders several dishes that we share, from appetizers to salad, a beef main dish that’s to die for, and side dishes.
Guilt hits me when I get a glimpse of the bill at the end of our meal and Leo hands his credit card over to the server.
Well over $100.
I start to dig out my wallet, because I’m no mooch, but Leo reaches across the table and stays me with a gentle touch to my arm.
“Don’t you dare,” he lightly says. “This was my treat. I don’t often get to enjoy a relaxing lunch with a wonderful companion. The frequency will go down once she takes office. It was my pleasure.”
