ASHTON
I’d taken extra time and care getting myself ready to meet Robbie.
Gav’s teasing words that I was “dolling myself up for my hot date” did nothing to settle my jitters as I changed my shirt and tossed it on the bed, joining the other four.
Finally, I settled on a baseball jersey that hugged my lean muscles like a second skin.
After styling my hair and splashing on some cologne, I gave myself a last look-over.
It wasn’t perfect, but it would have to do.
I was already risking being late, and I still had to ride the subway to Waterloo Station.
When Robbie’s BFF replied to my message instead of him, I felt pissed, hurt, and more than a little disappointed.
But Evan had explained that Robbie had been struggling to come to terms with his attraction to me and was second-guessing himself.
This thing with his dad had to be blowing his mind, and I could relate to that.
Meeting up just made sense. In a way, it was closure for both of us, and who knows, it might launch a new beginning.
Waterloo Station was still crazy busy in the late afternoon with tourists and day-trippers alike.
A moment’s doubt set in; I worried Robbie wasn’t here, or that I’d not noticed him and would walk on by.
Recognising Robbie was easy; his gentle smile and his striking, sky-blue eyes immediately mesmerised me.
He was standing under the central clock, looking uneasy as he scanned the crowd.
As opening lines go, it wasn’t the best, but it wasn’t the worst either.
I realised that for all of my past ‘hook-up experience’, none of those first meets ever felt so charged as this, or this crucial, or this right.
Butterflies danced about in my belly, while my dick perked up.
When he stepped closer, the urge to touch him was almost overwhelming.
“Yeah. I thought...maybe we should meet. Talk.”
His nervousness, his honesty, his complete lack of ‘game’ was refreshing and cute as hell.
I couldn’t help but smirk while gazing at his handsome face.
What I’d learned from his father only sparked my interest before.
Now it was a compulsion. I didn’t just want to know more; I needed to know more about him.
And suggesting we talk more over coffee was the perfect excuse.
The smell of bitter coffee and sweet, greasy donuts filled the air as we talked for hours.
He had a strong yet vulnerable vibe that drew me in.
He was exactly as Rick had described, but somehow, even more so.
I’d often wondered why Rick had shared such intimate details of his son’s life with me.
Had he somehow seen that we’d be a perfect match?
Was this his subtle nudge to fate? The thought brought a small, knowing smile to my lips.
Robbie, talking about his dad made me think of the man I chatted to, shared images with, and had grown to consider a friend.
Reconciling the man I knew with Robbie’s memories of him was weird.
I could see the effect recanting memories was having on him, and I gave in to my need to touch him.
Threading my fingers through his and claiming his hand.
An afternoon with him wasn’t long enough, so when he mentioned that he’d never been to a gay bar, I leaped at the chance to take him. Even if it was only for a few hours.