I smirked, imagining Miller furiously whispering with Lee as I waited for his response.
Miller♥: How about this Saturday before the game? It’s my next day off.
Miller♥: And Lee can take me home afterward.
I didn’t begrudge him his escape route.
Me: Sounds good to me. It’ll take few hours.
I estimated how long it would take and added some time for a lunch break.
Me: Meet me at my place around 10?
Miller♥: Okay. I’ll see you then.
Me: See you then.
Me: Oh, and by the way, wear something old you won’t mind getting paint on. Things always get a little messy.
Miller♥: Thanks, will do.
“Yes!” If I did a little dance in my chair, no one was there to witness it.
Maybe I hadn’t fucked everything up after all.
I wiped my sweaty palms on my pants as I watched the clock.
“Why am I so nervous?” I asked aloud, already knowing the answer.
Every little I’d dated before, I knew the score. I’d always gone into things knowing they were interested in me as a Daddy Dom and wanted to play. Being so visible in the scene, I’d never had to worry about is he and isn’t he. With Miller, questions and uncertainly were all I had.
Needing something to do as I waited, I walked over to the coffee table and ran a critical eye over the painting station I’d set up for us. Seeing Snowball lying on his side, I picked him up and propped him up in the corner in Miller’s spot.
I smoothed down his red bow, wanting our date to be perfect.
I froze, catching my slip. “This isn’t a date,” I reminded myself even as the butterflies in my stomach started fluttering. “Ugh.”
It was feeling more and more like a date with every second. Correction, it was feeling more like a play date.
“No,” I said, resuming my pacing. “This isn’t a play date. This isn’t a real date. We’re just two friends getting together to paint minis. That’s all, folks. End of story.”
Yeah, right, I thought as need and pleasure swirled in my gut at the thought of seeing Miller again.
A timely knock at the door interrupted my feverish thoughts.
Miller had arrived.
Taking a calming breath, I opened the door. Miller’s eyes were large as he stared up at me. His hands clutched the strap of the bag hanging over his shoulder. He was wearing a pair of old, red track pants with a colorful stripe down each leg and a small hole by his right knee. He had on a baggy, navy blue t-shirt that had seen better days and had never looked more beautiful.
“Hi,” he said, a blush already staining his cheeks.
“Come in,” I replied, stepping back and waving him inside. “I set up everything for us on the coffee table.”
I walked toward the impromptu painting station as Miller placed his bag on the kitchen counter. Looking back to see if he was following, I smirked. His gaze was on me, but a lot lower than was decent. I wondered if he liked seeing me in my paint-stained, gray sweats and white t-shirt as much as I liked seeing him in his old clothes.
Smiling, I rounded the couch and lowered myself onto one of the cushions I’d placed on the floor for us. As soon as he joined me, I launched into a brief explanation of everything on the table.
“Here are all the minis you can choose from,” I said, gesturing toward a small selection of human/wizard figures that I had. “And this is your practice one,” I said, placing a random sorcerer in front of him. “I find it helps for beginners to get used to the paint before starting your final one.”
Miller picked up the figure and held it up. “But what if I ruin it?”
“That’s the point,” I said, laughing. “Miniatures like these aren’t very expensive. I think I paid two dollars for it. It’s when you get up to the big ones, like dragons, that they can get up there in price. I find that the main barrier for entry into the hobby is all the tools and paint, but I’ve got plenty of that stuff to share.”
Miller nodded as he placed the mini back on the table.
“I already primed them with black and white paint,” I said, pointing out the shadows I’d created. “So we can get right to it.”
Grabbing two wooden handles and some double-sided tape, I showed Miller how to fix the mini to the top of the block so he wouldn’t have to