Love Him Desperate (On the Market #5) - E.M. Lindsey Page 0,63

then his body tensed. “Can I…”

Raphael waited a few beats. “You can ask me.”

Rian swallowed. “Can we sit together?”

The tables on the deck were nothing more than small, cushioned loveseats around the little fire pit table. There was room for two, but Raphael’s heart thrashed against his chest because while he’d allowed himself to enjoy the date, that was taking a step he wasn’t sure he was ready for. He looked at Rian, and then he decided to take a leap, because what was the point of holding back.

“Yes.”

Rian hesitated, but only for a second. He crept around the table, then eased onto the cushion next to Raphael and let their thighs settle together. Raphael knew his body wasn’t made for cuddling. At least, it wasn’t ever going to be yielding and soft. He liked that men had harder edges most of the time, but his were razor sharp and stiff. Rian didn’t seem to mind much though. He slung his arm along the back of the settee and looked at Raphael out of the corner of his eye.

“I thought about faking a yawn, but this date has been ridiculous enough as it is.”

Raphael shifted so he could look at him properly. “Has it?”

“Not in a bad way,” Rian said quickly. “But we started with awkward ex talk…”

“Not entirely,” Raphael interrupted, and Rian’s mouth closed. “You told me about yours, but you didn’t ask about mine.”

“I didn’t want to be rude,” he said quietly. “I wanted to put myself out there, but it’s been a long time since I’ve had a first date.”

Raphael shrugged. “Aller Anfang ist schwer.”

With a smile, Rian shook his head. “I actually know that one. I had to take two semesters of German and French to pass the language portion of my graduate degree. It kind of stuck with me.”

“Well, it’s not a lie. Beginnings are hard,” Raphael told him. His hand twitched, and in spite of the fact that it felt wrong, he reached over and pressed their palms together. Rian didn’t move, not much, but his hand was warm and laid easy and relaxed against his. “To be honest, I don’t know if I’m ready for this.”

“How long ago was your breakup?” Rian asked.

Raphael smiled and shook his head. “No, not because of that. I’ve only dated two people long term, and both were over years ago.”

“But it’s someone.” Rian squeezed his hand a little and refused to let go of his gaze. “Trust me, I know that look.”

Bowing his head, Raphael let out a sigh. “It was someone, but there was never anything between us. The relationship is wrong for a lot of reasons, but it’s taken me some time to feel ready to let go.”

“Well,” Rian said, then let out a long, breathy sigh, “can I say that I’m glad you’re taking a chance with me?”

Raphael couldn’t deny that he was surprised—though he wasn’t sure if it was good or bad. “I don’t know if I’m worth the patience this might take.”

“I think you are. Even if it doesn’t work out,” Rian told him. He stroked his thumb along the outside of Raphael’s, and he stared down at their joined hands. “If anything, we can be friends. Right?”

Raphael couldn’t promise that. He wanted to make room in his heart for more, but the people of Cherry Creek had filled up so many spaces he didn’t know he had. He didn’t want to hurt this man, but he wasn’t sure he could get away with saying yes now, when the inevitable no was just on the horizon.

“Did you want to ask me about my exes?” he said instead.

Rian smiled and leaned back, not letting him go. “Maybe we can save that for awkward date number two?”

Raphael could at least give him that. He was willing to try, for a little while longer. He owed it to himself, to his heart, and to the people who cared about him. “I think that can be arranged.”

Rian let out a soft, sweet sound, settled back, and turned his gaze out toward the lake.

Chapter Twelve

“Why do you need me for this?” Dmitri asked, following Lorenzo to his car. He hadn’t expected to be unceremoniously dragged from his apartment by anyone, let alone Lorenzo, who had a determined smile plastered on his face.

“A little birdie told someone who told someone who told Wilder who told me that you needed to be dragged away from your books.”

“That sounds like the world’s worst game of telephone,” Dmitri grumbled, but he