Chapter 3
CHAPTER 3
MORGAN
By the time Morgan’s brain caught up, Dmitri had turned a corner and disappeared from view. What the fuck?
Morgan raised his fingers to his lips. They were still tingling, and he could feel every inch of Dmitri’s long and lean body as if it were still pressed against his own.
But, seriously, what the fuck?
Replaying the evening, Morgan tried to think if he’d done anything that would have sent Dmitri running away with a hurried “I know where to find you.” And what was with that? And fuck it all, they hadn’t exchanged contact info so how was that going to happen? Or was this just a blow-off?
As Morgan’s temper cooled, he realized that the date had been set up by Delia and her best friend. There was a way to track Dmitri down. If he wanted to. At the moment, Morgan wasn’t sure he did, but then his lips tingled again and warmth spread through his body. Even his cock had something to say as it filled slightly at the memory of how Dmitri had taken control of the kiss, how his tongue had felt as it stroked against Morgan’s, at the scent of the man.
Fuck.
Morgan shook his head as he pulled his phone out to order up a Lyft so he could get his ass home. As the screen came to life, he saw a notification for a text that he hadn’t opened yet. Clicking over to his messages, he saw a request from an unknown number that had come in nearly two hours earlier. Morgan remembered that Dmitri had texted something just as their gazes connected. He remembered the vibration of his phone, but checking his texts hadn’t been a priority because Dmitri had been crossing the room, long legs eating up the space between them as he approached until he was standing in front of Morgan and nothing else had mattered after that.
Now, Morgan poked at his screen to reveal the message.
I’m here.
Morgan wasn’t sure why those words made him angry all over again, but at least he knew now why Dmitri hadn’t asked for his number. He didn’t have to since he apparently already had it.
Yes, you certainly were, and now you’re not , Morgan typed back. It was petty, but there was a certain amount of satisfaction in his response.
His phone buzzed in his hand and a single word appeared in the text thread. Asshole .
I’m the asshole? Morgan restrained himself from responding, then blocked the number and requested his Lyft. As he waited, he texted Joe and thanked him for a memorable date.
Hey! Delia wants to know all the deets. Let’s grab coffee tomorrow so you can tell me about it.
Clearly, his brother hadn’t caught the irritation and sarcasm in his words. Morgan was about to clarify, but his car pulled up. As he settled into the back seat, he figured it would be far more satisfying to rip Joe a new one in person than through text. At least that way, Joe might get off Morgan’s back about finding someone.
Morgan met his brother at b. patisserie in Presidio Heights the next day at ten. He was showing a house in the neighborhood at eleven and figured that would give him enough time to say what he needed to, but not enough time for Joe to launch into excuses for his date’s behavior. The upscale bakery was one of his favorites, and Morgan ordered a chocolate Kouign Amann and a cortado for himself—Joe could make his own choice when he arrived because Morgan sure as shit wasn’t paying for him—then found a seat in the crowded dining space amidst the baby strollers and rolled-up yoga mats. Since Joe was chronically late, Morgan set up his laptop intending to answer some emails and look over the new listings to see if there was anything suitable for a couple of his clients.
“So, what the fuck happened last night?”
Joe slid into the seat across from Morgan before his computer had time to boot up. His arrival was so unexpected, Morgan startled and nearly spilled coffee all over his keyboard.
“What do you mean?”
“What do I mean? Delia got an earful from Sophie this morning. Why’d you stand Gareth up?”
“Gareth? Who the fuck is Gareth?” Morgan cast an apologetic glance at a young mother at the next table who’d covered her baby’s ears and was glaring at him. He wanted to roll his eyes because seriously? Like his swearing was going to be anything but sounds to the tiny human.
“Gareth? The guy you were supposed to meet at the bar? He was wearing a 49ers jacket so you wouldn’t miss him.”
“The bar?” Morgan’s mind was reeling. “I was in the restaurant.”
“Why would I tell you to be in the restaurant? That place is ridiculously expensive.”
“Tell me about it. There weren’t even any prices on the menu. But wait…” Morgan stared at his brother, sudden realization dawning on him. “There was a guy at the bar in a 49ers jacket.”
Joe clapped his hands together and sat back in his seat. “ That was Gareth. He works for the franchise. That’s why I thought you guys would hit it off.” He was staring at Morgan as if Morgan was clinically thick.
“My number. You said he had my number.”
“Yeah. Forty-nine.” Joe nodded at him like he was waiting for Morgan to figure out how clever he’d been.
“But…if that was supposed to be my date, who the hell did I have dinner with last night?”
Morgan got a fair amount of satisfaction at the stunned expression on his brother’s face, but his mind was too busy replaying everything that had happened on his date to fully enjoy the moment. “He said his name was Dmitri. He paid for everything. And then we…” Morgan felt the heat rise in his face along with the conflicting tingle of arousal at the memory of their hot AF kiss.
“Tell me you did not sleep with him,” Joe asked, leaning in so he could avoid the glares of the moms at the table next to theirs.
“No. I…we…no, it didn’t get that far. We kissed, but then he took off. And then I saw the text…” Morgan put his elbows on the table and let his head fall into his hands. He rubbed at his forehead. “I owe Gareth an apology,” he said and chanced a glance at his brother.
“Yup.” Joe nodded. “Sophie was pretty pissed at you. Gareth had a pretty rough breakup a couple of months ago, this was to help him get back on the horse. Same as you. Another reason why I thought you guys should go out.”
“Yeah. As much as I appreciate that,” which he didn’t, “that still doesn’t answer my question about the guy I kissed.”
“So, I can set you up with Gareth again?”
Morgan glared at his brother. “Forget about Gareth for a moment, dude. Sure, yeah. I’ll give it another try with him. But this time, give me his number, and I’ll contact him. None of this clandestine wearing a carnation on his lapel shit.” Another apologetic glance at the mom with the baby. “But this other guy…”
“Hot?” Joe asked.
With a shake of his head, Morgan looked up at the ceiling. “Gorgeous. And sophisticated. He was…” Sighing, Morgan turned his attention back to his brother. “He was perfect.” Not to mention that kiss which made butterflies launch themselves into crazy patterns in his stomach all over again. And then he shrugged. “But I don’t know who he is. He took off after saying he knew how to find me.”
“Yeah, don’t know what to tell you there, dude.” Joe looked around the café. “Let me grab something and maybe we can figure it out.”
While his brother went to place his order, Morgan pulled his phone out and stared at it trying to will Dmitri into contacting him. His phone remained resolutely silent as he’d expected. With a sigh, he placed it face down on the tabletop and picked at a corner of the Kouign Amann sending a scatter of flaky golden pastry across the plate. The situation seemed hopeless. It would be just his luck to meet the perfect guy only to have no way to see him again.
Morgan hadn’t had the best luck with guys. In fact, if he were honest, his luck had been pretty much awful since he’d first realized he was attracted to dick. And dick was what he’d gotten. Dicks who cheated on him, dicks who were already married, dicks who strung him along because they were still hung up on their exes. If there was a way for a guy to behave like a dick, Morgan had experienced it. Though his last relationship seemed to have broken his near-perfect streak, after a year, his then-current boyfriend told Morgan he was bored.
“You’re too…vanilla, too predictable,” he’d said as he stood in the living room of the home they shared with his suitcases and boxes already packed. “I want someone who will whisk me up to wine country on a moment’s notice, fly off to Hawaii for a weekend, fuck me senseless in the kitchen because he’s so overcome with desire.” That someone had apparently been the six-foot-five guy who’d arrived to collect the boyfriend and his belongings, and left Morgan wondering what the fuck had just happened.
It had taken less than ten minutes for him to be left alone in his home, but the sense of having been knocked off balance still persisted more than six months later. Hence finally giving in to Joe and Delia’s repeated offers to set him up. Morgan had to admit, it was the thought of being at their wedding without a date that had finally broken him down. The idea of standing next to his brother as he said “I do” to the love of his life, of sitting next to him on the dais, of raising his glass in a congratulatory toast to the happy couple without having someone who was there just for him had been too much.
So, enter Gareth. Or, as had actually happened, Dmitri. Only Dmitri wasn’t likely to be the person Morgan took to the wedding because Dmitri was supposed to have been Gareth, and…Morgan closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead.
“I have an idea.”
Morgan opened his eyes as Joe slid back into the seat across from him.
“Okay.”
“He paid, right?”
Morgan nodded.
“Then call the restaurant. They’ll have his name on the credit card.” Joe looked ridiculously pleased with himself.
“They’re not just going to give me his name. I’m not the police investigating a crime.” Joe raised an eyebrow at him, and Morgan shook his head. “I am NOT impersonating a police officer. I think I could go to jail for that.”
“Okay. So it’s not a perfect plan.” Morgan snorted, and Joe grinned. “But, I’m sure you can think of something to tell them that will make them give you his name.” Joe snapped his fingers. “We’ll head over there tonight to talk to your waiter, convince them it’s a case of star-crossed lovers…or, I don’t know…he’s a perfect donor match for your dying younger brother. Or…or maybe, you only realized he’s your long-lost uncle after you walked away from a really bad date, and now you know why the date was so bad, but you really need to get in touch with him because he’s your long-lost uncle.” Joe sat back with a huge grin on his face.
“You’re ridiculous,” Morgan said, but he was also starting to laugh at Joe’s suggestions.
“But you’re going to do it, aren’t you? You’re going to give it a try.”
Morgan sighed and looked up at the ceiling. “Yes. I’m going to try it.” He shrugged. “I don’t have anything to lose, do I?”
“Nothing,” Joe said, then pointed a finger at Morgan. “But I’m still setting you up with Gareth.”
“Of course you are,” Morgan said, but he had to admit, he wasn’t as annoyed at Joe as he usually was.