“Guess it got pretty lonely stuck in a marriage that wasn’t working,” Rory said.
I blinked. Well, he wasn’t wrong, but I was surprised he’d outright said it.
“Shit.” He raked his fingers through his hair. “Me and my big mouth. In case you haven’t been able to gauge, I’ve got no filter.”
“I think it’s refreshing.” Truly, it was. I’d spent so long trapped in a smothering blanket of just being okay that his directness hit like the first sip of water upon waking up.
“You say refreshing, the world says problem.” Even though Rory flashed a grin with his statement, this one didn’t reach his eyes.
“Bullshit,” I responded. My heart thumped a little harder at how strongly I felt it too. I’d just met him, but there was no way this guy was that much of a problem. As much as I had a tendency to stick with things even when they weren’t working, I had a gut impulse for people that was infallible. I knew from the start that Susie would be a good partner, and she had been—even if we hadn’t been in love.
Rory blinked at me, and his mouth opened, but before I could discover what he’d prepared to say, the server returned with our beers as well as the burgers. My mouth watered at the sight. I hadn’t been lying—the piercing had made me starving, even with the painful ache that persisted down there.
I took a sip of the beer, enjoying the slide down my throat, accepting anything as distraction from the ache in my crotch. When I placed the beer down, I caught Rory’s gaze zeroed in on me, the intensity snagging my attention. I wiped my hand over my mouth. “Do I have something here?”
“Nah,” he said, shaking his head. “So what else is on your wild-side exploration list?”
“Clubs in Philly,” I answered. “I’ve never actually been to a nightclub. A strip club a few times for bachelor parties, but not a genuinenightclub. So I’d take suggestions on which ones old guys like me hit up.”
“Mm’kay, so, several things,” he said, a twinkle in his eye. “You’re not as old as you keep saying you are. But secondly, if I’m reading you right, and correct me if I’m wrong, but while you’d be incredibly popular at my kind of clubs, I don’t think they’re the ones you’d be interested in.”
“What, like a goth club?” I asked, my brows drawing together. “I was a huge Depeche Mode fan back in the day.”
Rory’s bark of a laugh startled me. “Oh, baby, no,” he responded. “I’m at the gay clubs in Philly—though I wouldn’t turn down a good goth-industrial night.”
I blinked and blinked again. Rory’s teases—oh, had they been flirting? So, when he’d said I was hot, he wasn’t just saying it objectively. My cheeks heated, even as my heart thumped a little harder. Fuck, if I let the silence draw on too long, he might think I had an issue with him. “Well, that gives your compliments a bit more weight,” I said. “I thought they were the equivalent of a sad back pat.”
Rory’s eyes widened, and another laugh escaped him. “Damn, Wyatt. You’re hands down unexpected in every way.”
“Not your average PA client?” I joked.
“Not average anything,” he said, an impish grin on his lips. Understanding hit me at what he referred to as his gaze drifted south. Blood flowed in that direction at the compliment, but the shift made the throb of pain even stronger.
“Don’t know why you even bother giving the masturbation talk—how could anyone even want to touch their cock while it’s in this much agony?” I grumbled.
“Thought you were a big strong man who didn’t feel pain?” Rory teased. All the smooth charm from earlier clicked into place—he flirted effortlessly, which was a skill I lacked.
“There’s pain and then there’s pain to your dick,” I clarified. “Apparently they’re very different things.”
“Give me your phone,” Rory said, making a gesture.
I licked my lip before handing it over. “Why do I get the feeling that was a bad idea?”
His grin grew wicked, his eyes twinkling. “Don’t worry—I only leave dick pics with consent.”
I rolled my eyes, even though being flirted with like this felt damn good. And although I hadn’t ever dated a guy before, or even considered dating one, I could admit the attention made me spark to life in a way little had in a long time.
Rory handed back my phone. “You’ve got my number now. If you have any questions about the piercing’s healing or just want to chat, shoot me a text. And with me, you definitely have consent to send dick pics.”
“Even if mine gets all crusty from the heal-up?” I responded. “Because I’m pretty sure no one wants that in their inbox.” Right, I was the smoothest of smooth, talking about crusty dicks.
“Given I’m the one who gave you the piercing, then yes, send it to me, or come back in and I’ll check it in person,” he said, reverting to professional mode for a moment. However, it fast melted away as his brows arched with mischief again. “Though I’m happy to get pictures of the end result as well.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” I said, taking a sip of my beer. Was it hotter in here than usual or something?
“Shit, I really was hungry,” Rory said between bites of his burger. The moan he let out was pornographic, and I buriedmyself in eating as a distraction. My mind whirred with new thoughts, ones swirling around like snowflakes but not quite settling yet. I had a feeling that if I pondered on them for long, they’d have the potential to bring certain things to light. All too fast, the burger was gone, and I looked up again to see Rory licking juices off his fingertips.
Fuck.
