“What?” He drew back suddenly, catching my drift. “Because you’re gay? No way, Mav. Did you really think that?”
“No.” I shrugged. “I don’t know. You just seemed to hate me so fast…”
“Ah, Mav, I never hated you.” He cupped my face and leaned in. “I wanted you. I just didn’t know it yet.”
Our lips met in a soft kiss. My heart fluttered at the sweetness of it. There was nothing sexual about it. Damon was showing me how he felt about me, and there wasn’t an ounce of hate in it.
He drew back before the kiss could deepen into something sexier. “I’m sorry it took me so long.”
“I’m sorry…the food is burning.”
Damon whirled toward the grill. “Shit!” He turned off the heat and grabbed the tongs to move the smoking chicken onto a plate. “Damn it. I guess the fajitas will be served with charred chicken tonight.”
I joined him by the grill. The chickenwascharred, but not so much it wouldn’t still be delicious. “Sounds good to me.”
We carried the food inside, and I discovered that Damon had laid out a whole spread of toppings on his breakfast bar. He placed the chicken next to a bowl of guacamole. Shredded cheese, pico de gallo, sour cream, salsa, and flour tortillas all waited for us to dig in. I set down the grilled peppers and onions.
Two Fiestaware plates were stacked off to the side, along with silverware.
“This looks amazing.” I frowned. “I really should have cooked for you, though. You’ve been so busy with your dad. I feel a little selfish.”
Damon took a seat at the bar and patted the stool beside him. “You’re not selfish. You made a whole lasagna for my parents. Sit down and enjoy, Mav. I wanted to do something nice for you.”
I perched on the stool next to him, and he slid a plate in front of me. Following his lead, I began to build a chicken fajita.
“You planned the last date,” I said as I spooned salsa onto my fajita filling. “Shouldn’t it be my turn?”
“Eh, I figure I owe you a couple after all my shit.” Damon smiled sheepishly. “I know I wasn’t the easiest neighbor to have. And after what you said out there…” He shook his head. “I really hate that I ever made you think I might have some kind of problem with you being gay.”
“I haven’t thought that for a long time,” I said. “Just in the beginning.”
“Still, I was an asshole to make you doubt it for a second. I’m sorry, Maverick.”
I knew what to do with snarky Damon or playful Damon. Even flirty Damon. But this sincere, sweet Damon? He unbalanced me.
“You can make it up to me later,” I said.
He slid his hand down my back, sending a shiver through my body. “Oh, I will. Anything you want.”
“Bold statement for a baby bi guy to be making,” I teased.
He leaned in, breath tickling my neck as he murmured, “I’m a big boy, Mav. You don’t have to worry about me freaking out.”
I turned my head a fraction. “No?”
He held my gaze. “Not even a little. I want this.”
Damn, his confidence was sexy. With a nervous chuckle, I took a bite of my fajita. Bright, fresh flavors burst on my tongue. I chewed and swallowed, then sighed happily.
“I never expected us to be here. I’m a little…”
“I know.” His knee nudged mine. “Me too.”
We worked our way through the delicious meal. The chicken had a mesquite flavor thanks to the charring, but it really worked with all the other ingredients.
While we ate, we kept the conversation light.
Even though I’d known Damon for a long time, I was getting to know a new side of him. It was a little nerve-racking, trying to figure out how we fit.
