“Huh.”
I snort at the single-sound answer. “Well, I’m glad I relayed that story.”
“I enjoyed it, if that helps?”
“Immensely.”
Orson turns those gorgeous hazel eyes back toward the picture, and I watch as his tongue slides slowly over his bottom lip. My cock takes notice, hyper-interested in that man and his mouth and how all that rough hair would feel on my balls, but I force the interest back down again.
He could be a new friend. Probably shouldn’t make this creepy.
But he still isn’t leaving.
I lean over to pick up my jacket and get a waft of something floral. “Returned this fast.”
“Don’t worry, I washed it.”
“I wasn’t worried about that at all.” I gesture to the grease stains all over my jeans. “Hazards of the job.”
“Thanks. Again. For letting me borrow it. I got kind of busy, and it wouldn’t have been fun to serve customers with my back to the wall all day.”
“I could imagine.”
“Hey, I know,” he says, like he’s just had an epiphany, but there’s something too tense about his tone for me to believe that. “Why don’t I take you out for dinner? As thanks.”
“You asking me on a date?”
He laughs and pushes off my desk. “Straight, remember? Though feeling pretty flattered by how desperately you want to take me out.”
“Take you out.” I grin evilly. “Somethinglike that.”
“I want to say thanks. Don’t make this weird.”
“I think you’ve done that plenty for the both of us.”
He flips me off. “Friday?”
“That’s my hookup night.”
“Meet at eight at Killer Brew.”
My smile is getting bigger by the second. “You gonna bring me flowers?”
“If you play your cards right, I’ll even pay.”
“Will you put out?”
“Not a chance.”
I laugh. “Friday it is.”
“See you then.”
“Bye … sweetheart.”
He shakes his head on the way out the door. “Not a date,” he calls.
Which is a damn shame, but I can roll with that. I like having friends, and I’m not going to say no to a free meal. After just two conversations with him, I can already tell I’m going to like hanging out with the man, and the idea that I’m going to see him again is … exciting. I don’t get excited about dates anymore—they’re usually the lead-up to something transactional—but knowing we’re going to go out with no expectations of ending the night in bed together means I need to turn up my personality.