“Then no comment,” Danny said. He appreciated Eliot giving him a heads up and a chance to save himself.
“So, is there anyone special in your life?”
“You asking for yourself, or the magazine?” Danny teased, grinning over at Eliot. He was a lot more comfortable than he’d expected to be. He’d been dreading stupid questions likewhen did you know you were gay?
Or worse,how do you know you’re gay?
He’d been imagining responses to that second one. He wasn’t sure he would have had the balls to say it on the spot, but he’d told himself that he was going to say that all the sex with other men had been a clue.
The look on the hypothetical reporter’s face would have been worth the embarrassment of bringing up his sex life. Especially as there wasn’t a whole lot going on in that department right now.
“The magazine. You’re not my type,” Eliot said, though a smile flickered across his features.
He was probably just smiling at the joke.
Besides, it’d be a terrible idea to screw a journalist who was supposed to be telling your coming out story. Even if he did have the world’s most bitable lower lip.
So much for Eliot not being his type.
Danny really needed to get laid sometime soon. Once the season was over, he’d have plenty of time. And, hopefully, plenty of offers.
Which would mean no more uncomfortable, inexplicable lusting over cute journalists.
“No, no one special,” he said, reaching up into the cupboard above him to get two coffee cups. “Single and looking.”
“I’ll put that in the article.” Eliot smirked. “Might help you get a date.”
“Hey, I don’t have any trouble getting dates,” Danny defended. He could tell Eliot was teasing him, but that just made him all the more interesting.
Eliot wasn’t impressed by him. Not by his career, his accomplishments, his ridiculous house, his looks… not by anything. He was pleasant, and friendly enough, but disinterested.
That was kind of hot. Danny had always liked a challenge.
Of course, he was probably never going to see this guy again, and he got the feeling it’d take more than one afternoon to bring him around.
“Okay, Mr. Single-and-looking.” Eliot jotted down a note on his pad. “Whatever you say.”
“Are you this rude to all your interviewees?”
“Oh, you’re my first.” Eliot glanced up, looking at Danny from under his eyelashes.
He was definitely flirting, but it didn’t feel serious. Not quite like he was making fun of Danny either. Just like this was maybe how he was.
Whatever it was, it was… kind of nice. If this was what being out was going to be like, Danny was looking forward to it.
“I’ll be gentle,” Danny promised.
“Oh, don’t hold back on my account.” Eliot grinned at him, the corner of his lower lip caught between his teeth.
Danny’s mouth went dry.
It had been too long since he’d gotten laid, and he’d been sent the one reporter who, if he’d wanted to, could have reduced him to a quivering, needy wreck.
Great. Cool. Fine. He could handle this like an adult.
He poured two cups of coffee and slid one over to Eliot. “Cream? Sugar?”
Eliot shook his head. “Dilutes the caffeine,” he said, pulling the coffee cup closer and putting his arm in front of it, like a dragon guarding its hoard.
