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Page 44 of Sunsets & Other Dangerous Things

My penis touched his leg earlier.

I blink. “Yeah,” I manage, not even barking. “Do whatever you want.”

I remember the way his body felt, holding me up. Not nearly as strong as Reggie, but different. Better.

Suddenly, the stranger at the end of the corridor feels very, very far away.

Maybe I’ve been alone too long. Nat warned me so many times, made me schedule sessions with Reggie once a week, so at least I’d leave the house and see someone who wasn’t her.

I’ve buried myself so deep in my own shitty feelings I don’t know how to relate to another person.

Maybe I never did. Outcast suits me.

Damian and I stare at each other. The crooked smile on his face pulls me from my stormy thoughts, and I surprise both of us, letting out a short, rough laugh under my breath, caught by the absurdity of it all.

He laughs in response, a light, musical sound. He’s about to open his mouth and launch into another monologue, but he stops himself.

“Just holler if you need me,” he says brightly, and disappears back behind the door.

I stand in the doorway to my room. The dogs are curled up together on Goldie’s bed, and out the window, the morning sun shines down on the garden. The house is suddenly quiet again, just the way I like it, but hollowness fills my chest. Maybe it’s always there, but I feel it differently now, like the weight sagging down my shoulders.

Nevertheless, as I throw aside the towel and crawl my naked body into bed, I realize I’m smiling.

Smiling like Damian is still looking at me and smiling back.

CHAPTERSIX

DAMIAN

After a few daysof hemming and hawing, I decide to make a big, indulgent meal to share with Enzo. I’ve already stocked his fridge with fresh food, and the fancy kitchen is begging to get used.

The man apparently lives off delivery. Twice now, he’s ordered me something, too, left sitting on the counter. Once it was noodles and veggies from a Thai restaurant, the next time a calzone, each with a little note.

Yours.

Best I can tell, Enzo’s saying thanks for saving him in the shower. He can’t seem to help acting like a snarling werewolf, so he tacks some extras to his delivery order to show his appreciation.

It tickles me.

I absolutely love cooking, especially trying out new recipes. And a meal is always better shared.

Not that I need to justify standing here and chopping eggplant. Mama isn’t much of a cook, but Mom had me in the kitchen with her since I can remember. Boiling lentils and selecting cheeses and slicing tomatoes—it comes naturally.

So naturally my mind is free to wander to the place it’s been wandering all the time lately.

Naked Enzo in the shower.

Wet, black beard, thick thighs, and hard, brown nipples. Enzo was curled into himself, his muscles straining, his jaw set hard.

And I really tried not to look, but his cock was right there. Thick and heavy against his bush and his fat sack. My eyes only lingered for a split second before I regained conscious control of them, but Enzo’s large sledgehammer nearly rang my bell.

I add peppers and spices to the onions sweating in the pan, reminding myself the man is not at all my type. For one, he’s almost definitely straight. That alone ends the budding fascination. I’m generally drawn to people of my age, and jocks and bad boys andboxershave never been my thing. Give me a chorus dancer! A cute florist! Much hotter, in my opinion.

All that said, however, as I thicken my tomato sauce, I can’t stop thinking about Enzo naked in the shower, just like I’ve been thinking about him all week.

He’s hot, from his crooked nose to his big feet. Every inch of him is distractingly, undeniably attractive. What does a man like him get up to in bed? How would it feel to thrust my cock between the thick, muscly globes of his ass, penetrate him? Feel his strength unravel in our heat?

At least the fascination provides me with a good excuse as to how, exactly, I’ve spent over a week here without planning my life trajectory. I’ve paced around the second floor of the old mansion, brainstorming and sketching and keeping lists. I took a few online career aptitude tests, lost myself in a million job listing websites, and meditated on it in the garden.


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