Chapter Five
After telling himself that whatever his opinion of Danny Harper, he’d never have to see him again anyway, Eliot was surprised to have been contacted by the other man. He’d thanked him for the gentle treatment in the article, and sent him a box of seriously nice chocolates.
Eliot was actually starting to feel as though he was being courted, which couldn’t be right. This was a man who could have had basically anyone he wanted. He didn’t want an obscure little journalist who happened to be nice to him once.
When Danny had invited him back to his house to talk about a mysterioussomethingthat he couldn’t discuss over text or email, Eliot had almost refused.
Almost. His curiosity—and his tiny crush—had gotten the better of him.
Curiosity was what had gotten him into journalism in the first place.
As he stood on the doorstep of what could only be described as the small mansion Danny lived in, Eliot understood the sense of loneliness he’d gotten from the other man the first time around. He had everything—fame, money, success—but he didn’t have anyone to share it with.
Up until now, he hadn’t been in a positiontohave anyone to share it with.
Despite Eliot’s prejudices about guys who were into sport, he had a much easier time being sympathetic toward Danny than he imagined he would have. The more he thought about it, the more he realized he’d never trade what Danny had for what he had, even if it meant getting to live in an apartment that didn’t have a roach problem.
Danny opened the door in a pair of sweats and another too-small t-shirt, this one hitched up a little, showing an inch-wide strip of skin over his hip. Eliot stared at it for a half-second before averting his eyes, looking up instead.
“Hi.” Danny stepped back from the door. “Come on in.”
Eliot stepped into the hall and waited for Danny to close the door behind him before following the other man into the kitchen again.
He took the time to get a look at the place this time, noting the tasteful but impersonal decor. No photos of Danny, his team, or his family. Nothing that really looked like he’d picked it out himself.
Danny suddenly looked very small in his very large home. Too big for one person.
He could have lived in a slick apartment closer to the city center if he’d wanted to. That he’d chosen a place like this told Eliot he wanted a family.
Despite himself, Eliot hoped he found it. He hated to see anyone alone.
Not that he was any less alone, but he couldn’t have fit a goldfish in the shoebox apartment he lived in, and his landlord would probably have kicked him out if he tried to.
“Coffee’s fresh. Still black?” Danny asked as he got two cups out, mirroring the last time they’d talked like this.
Eliot nodded, settling on the same bar stool he had the first time. This time, though, he wasn’t nearly as nervous.
At least any flirting he did would be deliberate this way. Not that he was here for that.
Even if he kind of hoped this was actually a weird attempt at seducing him. The more Eliot thought about it, the more firmly he’d decided that Danny really only had to ask. Curiosity, again, was getting the better of Eliot.
“I hate to rush you, but you wanna tell me what I’m here for?”
Danny pushed one of the cups over to Eliot and kept the other for himself. “Well, firstly, I wanted to thank you for not making me look bitter in that article. You could have, and I appreciate that you didn’t.”
“I assumed that was why you sent me my own body weight in chocolate,” Eliot said. He was never going to have to buy chocolate again.
He still hadn’t heard the end of it from Meg. As far as everyone in the office was concerned, he had a not-so-secret admirer.
That had been fun for all of thirty seconds, and then Eliot had wanted to crawl under a rock and never speak of it again. All the same, he appreciated the gesture for what it was. No one ever sent him anything.
“Yeah, it was,” Danny said. “My manager wanted to give you game tickets, which didn’t really seem like your thing.”
Eliot smiled wryly. “What gave me away?”
Danny chuckled. “Call it a hunch. Something I picked up right around the time you said you knew nothing about hockey.”
“I knew you were smarter than you looked,” Eliot teased. “So… you could have sent me a text saying that. You told me we had to talk in person.”
