Total pages in book: 37
Estimated words: 35498 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 177(@200wpm)___ 142(@250wpm)___ 118(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 35498 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 177(@200wpm)___ 142(@250wpm)___ 118(@300wpm)
Way too eager.
“I wasn’t expecting that.” Oliver lowered his gaze.
Shite. “I know it’s last minute, but no pressure. Just coffee and conversation.”
“Conversation.” Oliver repeated skeptically, and Matthew couldn’t blame him. This guy had been minding his own business, lunging his sexy ass off, when the owner’s brother started hitting on him. He was honest, sure, but he might be too polite to tell Matthew to get lost.
He should walk away and forget this ever happened. Rory and Robert never would, and those two were both as gossipy as old women at a bingo parlor, but he’d asked for it when he’d asked for their advice in the first place.
“Look, Oliver, don’t worry abou—”
“I need to shower first,” he said abruptly. “There’s a coffee place around the corner that I like, but I’ll be at least a half an hour. Do you know it? I can meet you there when I’m done.”
He was saying yes? Holy mother of merciful— “Yes. I mean, that’s grand. Fine. Just fine.”
Oliver hesitated. “For clarification purposes, this conversation you want to have isn’t about an issue with my gym membership or based on a bet of any kind?”
Matthew felt like he’d been slapped in the face. “What? No. No. Neither of those things. Why would you think that?”
When he just shrugged, Matthew ran his fingers through his hair. “Well, I must be doing this completely wrong then, yeah?”
Oliver lips twitched. “That’s usually my line. Is it bad that I like not being the one to say it?”
“Glad my inadequacies amuse you.” Matthew grinned weakly. “My turn to be blunt. I find you attractive and I would like to spend some time with you when you’re not otherwise occupied and my family isn’t trying to listen in. That’s the gist of it. Clear enough?”
He stared hard at Matthew for long moments before nodding. “Okay then.”
“Okay?”
“I’ll see you in thirty minutes.”
Oliver grabbed his towel and empty water bottle, strolling slowly toward the locker room without looking back.
A date. He’d said yes.
But first he’s going to take a shower. A long. Hot. Shower.
Matthew had helped William grout the tile in the locker rooms, so he was intimately familiar with that shower. Which meant it was easy enough to visualize Oliver walking over to the row of lockers before tugging off his tank and dropping his pornographic shorts to step beneath the pounding spray.
It took more willpower than it should have for Matthew not to follow after him, offering to skip the coffee and wash his back instead. He could practically feel that golden skin, slippery and wet under his hands. Taste the salt as he licked a thorough trail down to that round, edible ass.
Have some self-respect and let the man shower in peace, for God’s sake.
“Did he break you, Matthew?” Rory teased from across the room. “Can you feel your arms and legs? Blink if you can understand me.”
Maybe Oliver had broken him. He’d completely forgotten he wasn’t alone. “I’m fine. Your first-aid skills won’t be required at this time.”
“Those skills might not be,” Rory specified as Matthew rejoined them. “But if that little exercise was anything to go by, you’ll need more help from us.”
Robert was leaning on his elbows, grinning even as he shook his head. “You work fast, I’ll give you that. Even for a Finn.”
Matthew scowled. “You heard us?”
“We heard you from, ‘Hey.’” Rory pointed to the ceiling. “This place is an echo chamber. Which is a good thing, in my opinion. Why coffee?”
“It slipped out. But I thought that would be harmless enough. A drink would be too pushy, a meal might be too much of a commitment.”
A motel room and handcuffs could send Oliver screaming into the night.
“What’s wrong with coffee?” Robert asked Rory. “I’ve got nothing but respect for that. He’s being a gentleman and giving the man a brightly lit public venue with an easy escape route.”
Matthew made a face. “Wasn’t planning on attacking him, Nora.”
Robert shrugged apologetically. “Sorry about that. Three sisters and a brother on the force. Dates always came with scheduled call-ins and safety drills. Men can be assholes.”
“Can’t argue with that,” Rory mumbled, rubbing his temples. “And yes, coffee dates are respectful. They’re also perfect for deep conversations. At a bar, the music and crowds can drown out anything that isn’t light banter. But coffee means Matthew will be walking through a veritable minefield of potential verbal blunders, and you heard it for yourself. He can barely talk to Oliver as it is.”
Knots started reforming in his stomach. “I want to get to know him. Isn’t that why I introduced myself?”
“Barbie has a point.”
Rory turned to glare at Robert. “Barbie?”
“If you don’t like it stop calling me Nora.”
It was like herding bantering cats with these two. “What point is that, Robert?”
“Speaking from experience, the first half hour of a date can make or break you. Make, as in you might eventually get another date and the potential for some action. Break as in he walks out and tosses his membership and my commission in the trash for good measure, all because you stuck your big Irish foot in your mouth.”