Page 17 of Chasing After You (Twisted Desires #3)

He stared at our hands, then pulled his back, placing it firmly in his lap. “Let’s talk about something else.”

I tilted my head. “Okay.”

He blinked, thrown by the ease of my agreement. “Just like that?”

I smiled. “Of course.”

His brow furrowed, unsure whether to believe me, but he sat a little straighter. “So… what do you do all day, if you don’t have a job?”

“I read,” I said. “I go to museums, I collect expensive things, sometimes I travel. Other times I just… watch people. I’m good at watching.”

Josh made a face. “That sounds both relaxing and wildly creepy.”

“You liked it when I watched you.”

He let out a strangled noise and buried his face in his hands again. “Dorian, please. ”

I laughed. “Okay, okay. Sorry.”

A beat passed, and Josh peeked through his fingers, sighing softly. “Do you want another drink?” I was tempted to tell him yes, if only to get him to drink another. He was surprisingly lightweight, already acting a little tipsy after just one measly glass. But no, I would be good.

“I’m fine,” I said. “But I’ll walk with you back to your apartment, if you’ll let me.”

Josh looked torn. His lips parted, then closed, then parted again. He gnawed on the inside of his cheek for a long moment before nodding. “Okay. But only if you promise to be normal.”

“Define normal,” I teased.

“Nevermind,” he muttered.

I smiled. “I’ll do my best.”

Josh gave me a very skeptical look, but grabbed his wallet, tossed some bills on the table, and stood.

I rose to my feet too, adjusting my jacket, savoring the closeness as we walked down the stairs together and out into the warm night air.

He kept a small but not impassable distance between us.

That was fine.

For now.

We passed a small, late-night arcade bar on the walk back to Josh’s apartment building. I couldn’t help but notice the interest in his eyes as he looked inside at the bright neon lights and rows of games.

I nudged his side with my elbow, getting his attention. “Do you want to go in? Could be fun.”

He looked at me almost nervously, like he was trying to gauge whether I was teasing him or not. “Do you want to?”

“Yeah, it’ll be fun. Seems like something we missed out on doing together as kids,” I said, giving him a soft smile.

He studied my eyes for a few seconds longer before beaming. “Yeah, let’s do it.”

God, he was so fucking cute.

We entered through the open doorway, taking in the bright atmosphere. I snuck a peek at Josh as he stood beside me. He was practically shaking in excitement.

I walked a few steps forward until I was standing at the host station. The young woman manning it was seated on a tall stool, focused intently on her phone. To her credit, she quickly noticed our presence, lowering her phone and greeting us with enthusiasm.

“Hey, guys! Welcome in. Have you been here before?”

“No,” I answered, smiling at the bubblegum pink hair framing her face.

“Cool, so as you can see, we’re an arcade bar.

We’re open earlier in the day for teens, but go strictly twenty-one-plus after 9 p.m. There’s a cover fee of $30 per person, which grants access to all games for two hours.

You can get drinks and some snacks at the bar, but those cost extra, of course.

If you want to extend your time, you’ll just come back here and let me know.

It’s only $10 per hour after the original two hours,” the girl explained.

Josh reached for the wallet in his pocket, stilling when I lightly touched his arm. Handing over my card to the worker, I paid for both of us.

“You didn’t need to do that,” he whispered as we walked further in. “But, thank you.”

I smiled, slipping my wallet back into my jacket as we entered the glowing heartbeat of the arcade. “I wanted to. Besides, you already paid for drinks earlier. I’m just returning the favor.”

Josh gave me a shy, grateful look, but he didn’t argue again. That was a small victory. I’d keep tally.

The place was a chaotic collage of flashing screens, pixelated music, and bursts of laughter from other patrons.

The crowd was happy with half-finished drinks and the vague buzz of nostalgia clinging to them.

We stood shoulder to shoulder, surveying the floor.

Josh’s face was lit with childlike excitement.

I hadn’t seen him like this in… well, ever. Not even back then.

“So,” I said, bumping his hip lightly with mine, “what’s your poison? Shooting games? Racing? Air hockey?”

“I want to try everything , ” he declared proudly, already moving towards the basketball hoop game.

I laughed as I followed him. “Your wish is my command. Can’t say I have great aim, though.”

Josh was already picking up one of the small basketballs at the front of the machine, grinning, his face lax and carefree. “Try to keep up.”

My heart skipped in my chest at the happiness he exuded.

After we both had a turn at the machine, it was clear that Josh held an advantage over me in any of the sport-related games.

“Hey, if there was a game for that horse thing, you’d totally beat me,” he teased, elbowing me playfully.

A laugh punched out of me. “What horse thing are you talking about?”

“You know, where you ride the horses and use a stick to hit balls!”

I tilted my head at him, smirking. “Do you mean polo?”

“If that’s the horse sport you used to do, then yes,” he snorted.

I shook my head in amusement. “Alright, well, since they don’t have a polo simulator, what would you like to try next?”

He smiled and wandered off toward a retro-style skeeball alley. “Come redeem yourself over here.”

We spent the next hour like that—racing neon-colored motorcycles, failing at air hockey, and getting aggressively competitive over who could shoot more animated zombies.

At one point, Josh insisted we try a cooperative cooking simulator, and we devolved into chaos within five minutes.

He kept bumping into my character, yelling, “ Dorian, we need more onions! ” while laughing so hard he had to lean on the machine.

I didn’t even care about the score. I just watched him laugh.

Fuck, his laugh. His smile.

Halfway through our second hour, we took a break near the back bar. He leaned against the counter, cheeks still red from our last game. I slid a soda across to him.

“No alcohol?” he asked, raising a brow.

“Nah, I don’t want to get you drunk. For such a big guy, you really can’t handle your liquor.”

He shrugged and just sipped the drink, lazily looking at me under the pink-tinted lights.

“This was… actually really fun,” he admitted quietly.

“I wanted it to be.” I mirrored his posture, arms on the counter, close but not too close. “You deserve to have fun.”

His smile faltered, just slightly. “You didn’t really get to, did you? Back then.”

“No. But I am now.” I let the words hang between us. “Because I’m with you.”

Josh stared at me, and for a second—just a breath—he didn’t look away.

Then he laughed, nervously, draining the rest of his soda. “Alright. Enough of that. You wanna lose again at skeeball, or what?”

I followed him back onto the floor, my eyes lingering on the curve of his shoulders, the warmth in his voice, the way he trusted me just enough to keep smiling.

At the end of our two hours, Josh asked me if I’d like to stay longer or end the night there.

“It’s already late, and you need your rest,” I told him, feeling a spike of pleasure rush up my spine as he happily nodded at me like I held the answers to all of his questions.

His apartment was only two blocks down from the arcade bar, so the walk over was relatively short.

“You’ve never been there before? It’s so close to you.”

“I didn’t even know it was there, honestly,” he replied as we walked the last block to his place. “I don’t really get out much.”

“Hm,” I hummed. “Well, maybe we can find something new next time, too.”

“Really?”

“Of course, angel. Whatever you want,” I said.

We soon stopped at the entrance of his apartment building.

“Thanks for this,” he said, smiling fondly at me.

“No, thank you. Now, get some rest. I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

He was silent for a count, then asked, “Will you be watching again tonight?”

My breath caught. “Maybe. Maybe not.”

He surprised me with a quick hug. So quick that I didn’t have enough time to register what was happening before he was scurrying into his building.

I stood there for a few long seconds, staring at the spot where he’d disappeared behind the glass doors. My arms still felt the ghost of his hug—brief, hurried, awkward, and warm in the most painfully innocent way.

He hugged me.

He hugged me.

I pressed my knuckles gently to my lips as I turned to walk away, trying to smother the triumphant smile threatening to split my face in two.

The streets were quiet, and the evening chill was settling into my bones, but I barely noticed.

I was too wired, too full of something—delight, maybe, or obsession shaped to look like joy.

It had gone far better than I’d imagined. He had laughed with me, touched me, opened that cautious heart just a sliver. There had been so much progress.

And that look— that look—he gave me when I told him he deserved fun, when I said I was happy just being near him…

it was more than gratitude. It was longing, even if he didn’t realize it yet.

His eyes softened when they met mine, and he let them stay, just for a moment.

That wasn’t nothing. That wasn’t brotherly.

I replayed the whole night in my head as I walked through the lonely streets. The way his voice cracked slightly when he was flustered. The way he bit his lip when he was concentrating. The way he kept glancing at me when he thought I wouldn’t notice.

God, it was intoxicating. I felt high, and it wasn’t even the physical contact that did it.

It was the connection. The conversation.

The ease. We moved around each other like puzzle pieces finally slotted into place—bickering, joking, playing.

Like something natural was finally being allowed to unfold.

He didn’t know it yet, but I was making memories for both of us, sealing these moments in amber.

Proof that we could be this —that we already were.

All I had to do was keep feeding him reasons to want me in his life.

And then in his space. And then, eventually, in his bed. In that tight fucking ass of his.

I passed a row of dim storefronts and slowed my pace. For once, I didn’t want the walk to end.

I didn’t go home right away.

Instead, I stopped across from his building, just far enough to remain unseen, and leaned back against the brick wall of a closed boutique. The lights from his apartment glowed faintly through the curtains above: third floor, second window from the left.

It was a comfort to know he was there, that I’d put him to bed happy. That I could keep doing it.

He asked if I’d be watching again tonight.

He didn’t sound afraid when he asked.

No, he sounded curious.

Maybe even hopeful…

My fingers twitched in my coat pocket. I didn’t need to climb up, didn’t need to sneak through the shadows like I had before. That was desperation. This… this was savoring. Letting the ache swell and stretch until I couldn’t hold it in anymore.

The city hummed around me, but I was tuned only to him.

And when the light in his room darkened, I closed my eyes and imagined him curled up in bed, blankets bunched at his waist, skin still flushed from laughter. I imagined the smile he’d worn lingering on his lips, even in sleep.

I took a deep breath in and adjusted my now hardened cock in my pants. I’d luxuriate in a long and indulgent jerk-off session once I got home.

I deserved it.