Page 46 of Devil's Kiss

A twinkle lit the guy’s eyes, and he grinned. “You think so, huh?”

Derek felt his pulse skip at the interest in that look and those words. Surfer guy was flirting with him.

“I do,” Derek said, and held his hand out. “I’m Derek Pearson.”

Surfer guy looked down and then slipped his hand into Derek’s large palm. After they greeted one another, Derek figured that would be that, but when the guy didn’t immediately release his hand and instead held Derek’s stare with a teasing one of his own, Derek felt a grin curve his mouth. He’d had such a shit week, and honestly, this guy’s flirtation was a welcome distraction.

“I’m Dylan Prescott. And you are seriously built. God.Do you live at a gym?”

Not expecting that at all, Derek couldn’t help the laugh that rumbled free. “Nah. But I work at one.”

“Well, shit. You’re a great promo for them.”

“You think so,huh?” Derek joked, throwing Dylan’s words back at him. If he thought for one second he would embarrass him, though, Derek had another thing coming. Because daring as you please, Dylan’s eyes lit as they tracked him again.

“I do.Damn…”

Oh shit, guy isn’t shy, that’s for sure.Derek wanted to say something quick-witted, but he kept getting so stuck on how beautiful Dylan’s face was that he found it difficult to string two coherent words together. In the end he settled for the obvious. “I kinda need my hand back.”

One side of Dylan’s mouth pulled up, and as that grin grew wider to extend into the same smile from earlier, two dimples appeared on either side of his cheeks, and Derek thought it was a miracle his knees didn’t buckle.

How was one guy so fucking blessed in the looks department?

“Yeah, okay. I guess I can give it back.” Dylan let go of Derek’s hand and gestured inside with a tilt of his head. “Come on. I’ll show you around.”

The tour was quick. The place would’ve fit into Jordan’s living room, but it was clean and didn’t smell funky, and when Dylan shoved open the door at the far end of the hall and said that would be Derek’s room, he felt the weight he’d been carrying around this week lift from his shoulders.

“So what do you think?”

Derek turned back to see Dylan standing with his arms crossed over his naked chest. “It’s perfect.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Exactly what I’m looking for.”

“Great. Then it’s yours.”

When Dylan left to walk back down to the small kitchen, Derek frowned and asked, “Do you want references? I can?—”

“Nope.”

No? What the…?Everyone wanted references. Derek didn’t really want to go to Jordan for one, but he would, and he could get one from his job, but— “What do you mean, no?”

Dylan leaned up against the sink and shrugged. “You seem chill. That’s what I’m looking for.”

“I seemchill? I have a purple face and you haven’t even seen the worst of it.”

“Hmm, yeah. That bothered me at first, but not so much now.”

Not understanding this guy in the slightest, Derek frowned and took his glasses off.

“Jesus, that looks painful.”

“Yeah,” Derek agreed. “And this is a week later.”

“Damn. And the other guy?”

The way Dylan asked, Derek figured this was an important answer, so he was brutal in his honesty. “He doesn’t have a fucking scratch on him.”