***
I arrive in front of his house twenty minutes early and send him a message telling him to take his time. His porch light turns on and the door cracks open before closing again. My eyes stay on the front of the house until my phone vibrates.
“Need more time?” I ask.
“I . . . I did laundry and forgot to mark all the tags. I’m not sure what I’m putting on, and I really don’t want to walk out there in my pajamas or rainbow yoga pants.”
My stomach rumbles from laughter. “I don’t know, those rainbow pants sound like they could be a fun time.”
He chuckles. “Yeah, I don’t think I’m ready for all that attention when I’m sure enough people stare at me with my cane as it is.”
“So how can I be of service? Need me to come in and pick something out with you?”
“If . . . if you don’t mind.”
“Not at all.”
“Thank you, and I’m sorry. I know dates don’t usually start this way.”
“It’s okay. I’ll be right in.”
“Okay.” The line goes quiet and I leave my phone behind as I step out of the car. My Honey calls to me from an open doorway as soon as I walk into the house and knock on the wall by the front door.
I’m not anywhere near prepared for what I see when I make my way to where he is. He’s standing in front of his open closet in nothing but a pair of black boxer briefs and two differentcolored knee-high socks. I take my time admiring every inch of him, and when he turns around, his hands fall in front of him. “Raf?”
“I’m right here.” I inch closer, fingers grazing the inside of one of his arms as soon as I’m standing right beside him. “I thought I was supposed to get you to take your clothes off for meafterI wine and dine you.”
He lets out a lighthearted laugh that makes my heart soar. “Yeah, and I think you’re supposed to hear me coming after that too, yet here we are.”
A laugh flies past my lips. “We’re just all kinds of out of order here, huh?”
“Yeah, and that’s perfectly okay with me,” he chirps.
“Me too.”
“What are you wearing?” He turns his face to me, sliding his fingers up my arm and to the center of my chest. My heart beats so fast I think it might escape my ribcage.
“A black sweater and dark blue jeans. Why? Should I take my clothes off too?” I waggle my brows—even though he can’t see me—and he slaps my shoulder playfully.
“No . . . I mean, we will come back to that later, but no. I wanted to make sure I didn’t over or underdress. I’ll wear a sweater and jeans too. My black jeans and green sweater.”
“Good choice.” His breaths stutter as I lock my fingers in his and lead them to one of the hangers in the closet. I help him find the jeans next, and when I’m about to give him privacy to put his clothes on, he grabs my wrist, shaking his head.
“Stay. I’d like to keep talking.”
“Yeah. Sure.” I park myself on the edge of the bed, grabbing his Kindle off the nightstand. He has one with the audiobook option and was last listening to some omegaverse romance. Whatever that is. Letting my curiosity get the better of me, I click on the screen and my eyes nearly bulge out when they graze overthe top paragraph. One man slips his fingers inside the other’s pants, and when he pulls it free after making him writhe against him, his fingers are covered in slick. He calls him his omega over and over, and the man practically melts each time, his hole growing wetter.
My jeans grow uncomfortably tight and I turn off the device, tossing it back on the nightstand.
“What do you think?” he asks, catching me off guard as he spins around, lifting his arms.
“You look great.” I jump to my feet, sauntering his way to sweep flyaway strands of hair behind his ear. “And now you’re perfect.”
His mouth opens and closes. I study each twitch of his lips and tensing muscle in his face.
“No one’s perfect.”
“I used to think that too, until now.”
