9 - Dan James
9
Dan James
So Andy didn’t want to talk about what had happened at the stall? He was fine with pretending it hadn’t happened at all?
It was all fine by me. More than fine.
Excellent.
It would be that much easier to keep going with my life and pretend that Andy Jacobs, the cockiest guy I’d ever met in my life and shameless player, the guy I’d hated on sight and the one that still pushed my buttons on the daily, hadn’t given me the best orgasm of my life and that I’d enjoyed every minute of his mouth on my cock.
I could pretend I hadn’t been stupid enough to kiss him.
Stupid enough to watch in awe as he went to his knees.
And definitely not stupid enough to be upset that I would be never getting his cock in my mouth.
I mean, it was just stupid .
I glared at the computer in my office– Andy’s office –at the gym, not being able to see or process any numbers because I was too busy giving myself an internal pep talk–or rather, chastising myself.
I shouldn’t care that Andy wanted to go on with his life. It was just who he was. He was a player for fuck’s sake, I’d always known this, he didn’t do repeats, he didn’t do relationships, and he sure as fuck didn’t linger for days on a stupid hookup.
I mean, why would he, right?
It was just me, Dan James, the guy he liked to pick on, the one he couldn’t stand. Stuck-up to his carefree, grumpy to his usual asshole sunshine, a twenty-four-year-old that usually behaved like he was in his forties instead of his twenties.
Why would his world have been turned upside down by a simple blow job?
My teeth ground against each other.
I stared outside the window that let me see the interior of the gym, where Andy was doing his rounds as per usual. He looked all tall, blond, strong, biceps in full display with his sleeveless t-shirt, the gaping wholes giving me a peek of his pecs, ready to kick ass and show the wannabe athletes here how things were done by an expert. He was wearing his hair up in a bun the way he used to back in college, and I couldn’t help but let my eyes linger on that image for longer than I wanted them to.
As if magnetized, Andy’s eyes shifted their attention to fall to mine for a long, ruinous second, before I looked away and tried to re-focus on my work.
Just forget about it .
I was going to.
And I was going to move on this Friday night, since I was pretty sure we’d be going out again. It was part of our wordless pact that we would stick to the ‘lessons’ and the plan like nothing weird had happened.
I’d try and hook up with someone else and things would be fine. I’d finally move on and forget.
So why, when the time came on that actual Friday, couldn’t I look away from him?
We both came into the bar after a whole week of tension as if we were going on a mission, and we both went to the dance floor, him first, straight for someone who was only too happy to see his interest.
My jaw could have cut glass with how tightly I had it clenched.
Andy was dancing with a woman, just like I was right now, because I had definitely not felt brave enough to try it out with a man. Not that I even wanted to. Because the truth was, much to my demise, that the only person I would rather be with was him , and it was dark enough and moody enough here for me to admit it to myself without having a crisis over it.
Moving under the dimmer lights in this area, bodies shifting in time with the music, Andy looked undeniably good. His hair was now down again, swishing as he moved, and although the woman I was with didn’t seem to mind that I was more than a little distracted, I couldn’t deny I was annoyed.
I shouldn’t be paying attention to Andy.
I should be paying attention to anyone or anything else.
He obviously liked the variety his hookups provided, never being with the same person twice. He probably preferred to sleep with people who were bolder than me, more forward, people that were used to this sort of game and were masters at it. People who liked to have fun and didn’t overthink one single encounter to death.
Right?
Andy’s eyes met mine and it was like a bolt of lightning went up my spine.
We’d been stealing glances all night, but now it felt different.
Andy’s gaze was dark in my direction, serious. The charming smile he’d plastered on earlier for his friends and his conquest was long gone, lips pressed thin against each other, as he watched the little space that separated me and my dance partner.
My dance partner who definitely knew nothing would be happening tonight, because I certainly didn’t feel ready to put out right now. I wouldn’t give her a shitty experience, something she didn’t deserve, I’d had enough failing in my relationship. I could already tell I wouldn’t manage to get laid tonight even if I sure needed the distraction.
Andy kept staring at me.
And I kept staring back.
Suddenly, I got an idea. An impulse.
A shot of adrenaline went through my veins, so my heart was pumping when I whispered to the woman I was dancing with that I was going to go to the restroom and I’d be done for the night.
She said something back that I didn’t remember before stepping away from me, probably going back to her friends, and I kept staring at Andy all the while, even when he was still supposed to be dancing along with his ‘date’.
Something shifted in his expression when he saw I was now alone.
Still looking at him, I started walking to the bathroom.
Not the one for public use, but the secret one Andy had shown me.
The one where our mistake was hidden.
I didn’t look back.
And yet I felt a pair of eyes glued to me.
I went into the bathroom and closed the door behind me.
Several seconds passed. My heartbeat was loud in my ears.
Then I heard movement right outside.
The door opened.
Andy’s eyes met mine again.
And in less than a blink, our hands were on each other, the door closing behind him.