Love is Always Write Anthology Volume 5

spots. He snuck a look around the room. It was busy but there were a few tables and chairs empty so why did this guy…
    "It's okay, man. I'll go somewhere else."
    "No!" Shit, that came out wrong. "I mean… you can sit here if you want."
    A dimpled smile met his eyes. "I want. Thanks."
    The next few minutes were spent in silence while the night's entertainment continued to set up. Scott's stomach was cluttered with the nasty little butterflies that refused to flutter the hell away and he couldn't quite figure out why he was so nervous. It was only two guys enjoying some music and sharing a table, there was nothing more to it. Just because the guy was hotter than holy hell and seemed to stare longingly into his eyes didn't mean Scott had to act like it was a date.
    "Name's Devon."
    Scott shook the extended hand, noticing the contrast between soft skin and callouses on Devon's hand. "Oh sorry. I'm Scott."
    Devon smiled, all plump sexy lips, straight white teeth, and oh yeah, dimples. "Come here often, Scott?"
    The pick-up line made Scott chuckle. "Yeah. You?"
    Devon shook his head, draining the rest of his beer and picking at the label. "First time. I like it. It's quiet and kind of mysterious."
    Scott snorted then covered his mouth with his hand. "Quiet, yes, but mysterious? Not so much."
    "You seem a little mysterious."
    "That is so far from the truth." Scott's face warmed from the neck up while he silently thanked the owners of The Shoppe for the very dim lighting.
    Devon's smile faded a little, eyes still twinkling with mischief as he touched Scott's hand. "Another round?"
    Scott shook his head. "You don't have to buy me a drink."
    Devon shrugged and smirked. "What if I want to?"
    They had another round then a couple more after that. Scott was grateful when the music started and he didn't have to try and keep his composure with Devon any longer. He couldn't help sneaking a few looks at his tablemate though. Damn he was fine and so not Scott's type. Well, not exactly not his type, but not the type Scott had ever considered he'd ever be able to call his type.
    He noticed Devon watching him a few times as well, but chalked it up to mere curiosity at Scott's out-of-date hairstyle or his non-descript shirt and pants. There was nothing boring about Devon. He wore a tight black t-shirt, black jeans and a black leather jacket that he'd draped over the back of his chair. Most men would look dull, too trendy, or like they were trying too hard when they dressed all in black, but Devon wore it like a cloak of mystery. Yet he'd said Scott was the mysterious one?
    The tattoos decorating both Devon's arms were enough to take dull entirely out of the equation, and if Scott had more time and been less wary of being caught, he would have stared at them all night. He'd never been with a tattooed man, never even had one as a friend, and the whole designing your body with permanent ink thing was cool, but foreign to him.
    Devon's face was five o'clock shadow to the tenth degree, not exactly a beard but not trimmed neat and tidy like most of the men in the club. Something told Scott that Devon didn't often conform to what others thought or said. It was refreshing.
    "You have incredible eyes." The remark came just after the musician had taken a fifteen-minute break, Devon's eyes wrinkling at the corners when he said it. Scott was more than a little shell-shocked.
    "I'm sorry." Devon squinted at Scott. "Maybe I got the wrong impression of you?"
    "Impression?"
    "I thought you might be interested in me."
    Scott nearly had a coronary. People… men did not just come out and say things like that to him. Fuck, did they actually say that to anyone? He was vaguely aware he was sitting there with his mouth hanging open and quickly brought his glass to his lips, taking a large gulp and proceeding to ungracefully choke on his wine.
    Devon reached over and patted him on the back, the palm of his hand burning a hole through Scott's shirt right to the skin. "Goddamn. I've never had that reaction before," he joked. "You okay?"
    Scott gave one last cough, nodding his head as he sorted his thoughts. "Yeah. Sorry. I'm obviously not the most elegant date."
    "Date?"
    "Oh fuck. I didn't mean…"
    "Does that mean you're interested?"
    Scott reached into the depths of his dusty bravery, finally looking up into Devon's eyes. "Of course. Who wouldn't be?"
    Devon laughed and it was almost musical. Scott relaxed back into his chair, the burning in his throat