Chapter 1
CHAPTER ONE
Louis
My mouth drops in shock as I watch Sterling, dressed in a hot-as-fuck suit, walk out of the main bank building downtown. The same Sterling who had rocked my world four weeks ago and has occupied my every waking thought ever since.
On autopilot, I begin to snap my fingers. Once, twice, three times.
My heart races behind my breastbone as an onslaught of emotions attacks my nervous system.
He scans the crowd, and I find myself moving in the opposite direction, almost hiding, until I can find my bearings.
I didn’t know he worked here. In fact, I don’t know much about him at all, except his drink of choice is American Pale Ale, and that he’s covered in tattoos under that tight- fitting suit.
He also fucks like a God.
I don’t know who he’s looking for, but my pulse flutters at the idea of being in his orbit again. Even for just one more night.
A month ago, I was at my lowest, life pulling me in every direction, and the search for anything remotely fulfilling took up all my time. Until one Friday night when my best friend had to leave dinner early because of a babysitting emergency, and I was left wallowing at a bar all alone.
I’ve been wallowing a lot lately, my fortieth birthday a catalyst and the perfect reminder of the life I’d planned for myself and how very different it is to the life I’m living.
By nature, I’m a rigid man who lives for routine.
I don’t often deviate from it, unless I’ve obviously made plans to do so.
And yet when my eyes landed on Sterling all those weeks ago, I’d become a man I didn’t recognize. I’d been unfamiliar to myself, every feeling coursing through me uncharted territory. But for several hours, I was someone I very much wanted to become reacquainted with again; I just don’t know how.
Glancing down at my phone, I open up my Heart2Heart app, and click on the envelope in the top right-hand corner.
I open up the message from username @youcancallmesir, and look for any indication that the person I’m meeting right now could be Sterling.
My chest squeezes in disappointment when all the texts we’ve exchanged are so bland and businesslike, the complete opposite of the night Sterling and I shared together.
Refusing to get my hopes up, I send a text and let @youcancallmesir know that I’ve arrived at our agreed meeting place.
I’m not usually one to use an app to meet up with strangers, but when tickets to my favorite band sold out, I uncharacteristically agreed to be someone’s date to ensure I didn’t miss out.
We’re supposed to be meeting for a cup of coffee, just to break the ice before the big night. But with the reminder of Sterling at the forefront of my mind, I’m not sure as to whether or not I’ll be able to give this man my complete attention.
“Louis.”
Goose bumps cover my skin at the sound of my name from his lips. It’s a sound that, even if I’ve only heard it a few times, I would know anywhere.
Inhaling deeply, I count to five, trying to seem cool and collected before turning around and facing the man of my dreams.
“Sterling?” I say his name like a question, trying to appear surprised yet nonchalant, as if I didn’t already know it was him and that I hadn’t already seen him.
His gaze hungrily peruses the length of my body. “What brings you downtown?”
I rub a hand across the back of my neck and raise my cell. “I’m just meeting someone for a coffee. You?”
His brows bunch together. “Me too.”
A response gets lodged in my throat as I allow myself to take in the sight in front of me.
He’s as delectable in a suit as he was in skin-tight black jeans, an oversized black t-shirt and a pair of Doc Martens.
He’s like night and day, sinner and saint.
He’s not my type, and yet he’s everything I want.
“Louis,” he says firmly, and my eyes dart to his immediately. “Am I meeting you for coffee?”
I feel my cheeks heat as I ask, “Is your handle @youcancallmesir?”
The corner of his mouth tips up in a knowing smirk, and the reminder of our night together paired with his username, make me want to kick myself for not putting the pieces together sooner.
Surprising me, he extends his arm out to me, and I waste no time taking his hand. I don’t question or overanalyze it. I just do. He leads the way, which is totally on brand for him, and I dutifully follow.
We pass a few crowded coffee shops, until he stops outside this small hole in the wall that looks completely out of place amongst all these corporate, high-rise buildings, and gestures for me to walk in first.
When inside, he guides us to a table in the corner, and I fight the urge to sit beside him in the booth and not opposite him.
Everything about being in his presence turns me inside out. Turns me on. It feels like my libido has increased tenfold just by staring at him.
Without a conscious thought, I begin to snap my fingers. Once, twice, thre— I clench my fists together, interrupting my flow, forcing myself to stop the compulsive motion.
“Don’t,” Sterling demands, placing his hands over mine.
It was his way of introduction that night at the bar. The word had come out a little softer, more like a suggestion and less like a command, but I’d listened to him anyway. And this time is no different.
I bask in the feel of his skin on mine for a few more seconds before sliding my hands out from underneath his and then snapping my fingers once, twice, three times. An instant wave of calm settles over me.
The stim has been a part of my routine as well as my existence and my personality for as long as I can remember.
Accompanying me through every emotion I’ve ever felt.
As a forty-year-old man, I’ve spent many a year being stared at, questioned, mocked, and ridiculed for something I have very little control over.
People aren’t built to just accept, they’re built to poke and prod and ask questions I have no answers to. But not Sterling.
Even if it had been just one night, Sterling let me be. It had been everything I didn’t know I needed; the smallest, most inconsequential gesture that had turned my world upside down.
Even with my pulse thrumming beneath my skin, I manage to relax my hands on the table, my anxiety evening out, and raise my gaze to meet his.
His eyes are as dark as midnight, and I feel hot all over as he focuses all his attention on me.
“Hey,” he says, a smile forming on his face, his voice gentle and soothing, now that I’m obviously calmer. “Are you ready for coffee?”