They shared the two dishes, neither of which Blake had ever tasted before.
“It’s delicious,” he said, surprised by how much he liked the taste, and Jeremy laughed.
“See? It’s good to try new things.”
The rest of the dinner was spent with Jeremy asking him what Blake called pedigree questions—school, family—and his hopes plummeted that this would turn out to be nothing more than a date that ended with a perfunctory kiss on the cheek and an “I’ll call you soon,” which meant never.
They agreed to split the check, and when they walked out the door into the cold night, Jeremy placed a hand on the small of Blake’s back, sending his frazzled nerves spiraling.
“Want to come back to mine for a nightcap? You liked my Irish coffee, right?”
I won’t have sex with this man. I won’t have sex.If Blake repeated it often enough, maybe he’d believe himself.
Chapter Three
Damn, he wantedto have sex with Blake. There was something so intriguing about the man, aside from his adorable scruffy cheeks, big blue eyes, and soft lips. Nothing he could put his finger on, but Jeremy sensed a restlessness inside him, and hell if that didn’t make him want to explore what made Blake Myers tick.
“I did, yeah. I normally don’t drink whiskey. I make hot chocolate and put some Baileys in it.” He huffed out an embarrassed laugh. “That’s the extent of my crazy.”
“Are you sure?”
The widening of Blake’s eyes and flare of his nostrils sent a surge of triumph through Jeremy. He was right. Blake was a study in contrasts, and Jeremy was willing to go back to school for a lesson.
“Come on. I’ll be good. I promise.”
Blake shot him a swift look. “Okay, sure.”
They trudged through the slush, Jeremy using the excuse of the icy patches on the street to hold Blake’s hand, and when he didn’t get resistance, he tucked both his and Blake’s hands into his jacket pocket.
“For warmth,” he said with a smile and gave Blake’s hand a squeeze.
“I am wearing gloves, in case you didn’t realize.” But Blake returned the pressure and didn’t withdraw his hand.
The biting wind nipped at his exposed ears, and Jeremy picked up his pace, wanting to make the light at the corner. He held tightly to Blake, and they ran across the street, their breaths puffing out, frosty clouds in the night.
“I can’t wait to get inside. My ears are freezing.”
With his free hand, Blake tapped his covered head. “My mother always said, ‘Don’t leave home without it.’”
Jeremy unlocked the door to his building and pulled Blake inside, but kept him within the circle of his arms. “Did you always do what your mother said?”
“I tried.”
Unable to resist any longer, Jeremy brushed his lips across that tempting mouth, hearing the hitch of Blake’s breath. “I did the opposite.”
Blake smiled against his cheek. “A rebel. I might’ve guessed.”
Not really. A call for attention, maybe. Whatever it was, it had been a long time since Jeremy needed the approval of his mother as to how he lived his life. Not that she much cared when all her time and energy were still directed toward Noah and getting him back into modeling, despite his success as a psychologist.Oh, so not going there tonight.
“I think that’s enough talk about mothers for one evening.” They took the elevator up and soon were inside his warm apartment. “Take off your boots and jacket and make yourself comfortable. I’ll put the coffee on.”
It took him only minutes to set the machine, but for some reason he didn’t go back inside to join Blake and instead busied himself with nonsensical chores in the kitchen. Maybe the talk of his mother and not wanting to please her hit him harder than he thought. Maybe he was lying to himself.
The coffeepot beeped, and he shut down his mind to anything but the pleasure of having a cute guy waiting for him on his sofa. Jeremy poured the coffee and came back to the living room, then went to the hutch against the far wall that held his liquor and brought over both the whiskey and a bottle of Baileys.
“Your pick.”
Blake caught his lower lip between his teeth, the simple action making Jeremy’s dick ache.
