of the bar counter to steady myself. Because if he was smiling, if he wanted to see me, then what the hell had he been saying at the center that day? Why had he been avoiding me?
What was this thing between us?
He turned to his friends and said something before getting up and making his way through the dancers toward me. My mouth was dry but my drink was the last thing I wanted. In my chest, my heart was beating a staccato rhythm. My gaze slid to the door. I could go. Wave a small but noncommittal wave and duck and dodge until I was out of the club and running for the hills. Or, at the least, the safety of my house. Right next door to his.
Fuck. It was time to man up.
And then the opportunity to run was over, anyway. Gordo was close now, beelining for me, his stare never wavering. I leaned against the bar for support.
“Our paths keep crossing, Neighbor,” Gordo said with a slight slur. I only noticed it because years of dealing with my own speech impediment had honed my ear for anyone who sounded different even if it wasn’t different in the same way I sounded different.
Gordo, it seemed, was at least tipsy and possibly on his way to drunk.
“I d-d-didn’t expect to see you in here,” I said, not knowing what reply I was hoping for in response.
Gordo smirked, loose and easy, and I fought back the sudden, overwhelming temptation to kiss the smirk off of him. “Likewise. It is a very nice surprise.”
My cock twitched in my pants. If he looked down, there’d be no hiding how attracted to him I was. “Thanks,” I said, the sting of blush plucking at my neck and cheeks. “Out with friends?”
“Hmm.” His eyes squeezed shut, and he seemed to sway. I almost grabbed him, but pulled back at the last minute when he opened his eyes to stare at me again. “My best friend and my brother.”
Best friend and brother. The kind of guys I’d bring if I needed wingmen. If I was jonesing for a hookup. And he’d crossed the room to talk to me.
“Look,” Gordo said, suddenly frowning as he struggled to look serious. He swayed again, and I was beginning to suspect he’d had a lot to drink. “I want to apologize. I didn’t mean for you to think I didn’t want to work with you at the center. It’s just that it’s my first design job on my own, and I was nervous. Seeing you there didn’t help.”
I tried to casually shrug, though it had never even occurred to me that I had made him—someone so handsome and professional—nervous.
“It’s okay.” I breathed in, fighting the urge to clam up. “I know the s...s-s-s-...I know how I speak can be hard to work with.”
My hands strained at my side. I wanted to sign. I wanted to be able to avoid digging this hole any deeper. Gordo was apologizing, and I could just accept it and we’d be, well, neighbors still. Friendly neighbors, and nothing more than that, but okay.
My fucking mouth, though, felt thick and like it had a mind of its own. And Gordo was definitely drunk, standing close enough that I could feel the sear of his heat through my clothes and smell the beer on his breath. It made my head swim, like secondary intoxication. And I wanted more.
“Javi,” Gordo replied, leaning in close enough that I inhaled sharply. “I don’t care about the stutter. The truth is, I don’t know if I can work with you because you’re so fucking sexy.”
His words were like a slap in the face, leaving me reeling and scrambling to understand what had just happened. Did Gordo just come on to me? My cock grew hard in my jeans, responding to his declaration and his closeness and the fact that it had been weeks since I’d been laid.
Someone bumped into Gordo as they tried to get the bartender’s attention. He wobbled then began to fall. Without thinking, my hands flashed out, and I grabbed his hips to steady him, digging my fingers into the flesh of his hip. A surge of molten desire shot through me. Touching him was like touching a star—it would burn me to ash but goddamn, it was worth it.
When he regained his balance, he was closer than ever. And not moving away from my touch.
I licked my lips, for once unsure of the next course of