Page 4 of Dog Days

FOUR

Gideon

Now that my heart rate had come down from the ceiling and the adrenaline dump had cleared from my blood stream, I felt like a tool for leaving the way I did. I was normally a pretty chill guy, but dogs remained a sticking point. The first thing I did when I got home was look up Alfie’s profile again and, sure enough, I’d missed it.

Right there, under family therapist, it said he was a volunteer at Little Ones Rescue. He didn’t just have a dog, which would have been hard enough, but he rescued and utilized them in his practice.

Looking over his texts again, I appreciated that he hadn’t tried to make an excuse or say it was my fault that he’d laughed. He even apologized, which was nice. In my experience, guys didn’t apologize for jack shit.

I was still in my head about things when my doorbell went off a few minutes later. Taking a deep breath, I opened the front door and found Alfie standing on my front porch, holding my order, looking… sigh . Contrite and sweet.

“Are you okay?” he asked, a worried line between his brows.

“Yes, Alfie. I’m okay now. Come in.”

I gestured for him to follow me to the library-slash-sitting room. This was my favorite room in the house, and where I did most of my writing. With the tall ceilings and dark librarian vibe, it was also intimidating.

With color shading his cheeks, Alfie set the drinks on the coffee table, then gestured to the room. “I love the old Victorian houses in this neighborhood, and the flooring and trim in here are gorgeous. And wow, you did a good job mixing the modern art with the original touches. Not a lot of people have that kind of an eye. They often just defer to the old décor or obliterate it entirely. But not you,” he babbled nervously, his body facing away from me. “You really put a lot of effort in, I can tell.”

“Thanks. Restored most of this with my brother.”

He turned to me, opening his mouth as if to let more words spill, but then just as quickly he shut it. His warm brown eyes, which flared amber in the dying light, were practically pleading with me.

“I am so sorry, Gideon. I promise, I just thought Judi caught you off guard,” he explained, the distress in his voice genuine. “It took me far too long to identify that this was a triggering event. I swear I’m turning in my therapist card first thing tomorrow.”

I laughed in spite of myself. “No need to do that. Though I do appreciate the apology.”

His focus shifted to his shoes. “I really, really liked our back-and-forth and, maybe it’s silly, but I hope it’s not too much to ask for a do-over.”

He glanced up at me, even as his chin stayed on his chest. I crossed my arms and scowled at half-power. His eyes went wide, and he took a shivering breath but stood his ground, which I admired. God, he was perfect.

I bit back a smile and waited half a beat, then stuck out my hand. “Hi. I’m Gideon Northman.”

The gesture startled him a little, but then that damn smile spread across his face like a sunrise. Eyes twinkling, he uncrossed his arms and took my hand. “Hi, Gideon. My name is Alfie Fellows.”

Sproinging one of his curls, I teased, “Fuck, you even look like your dog.”

His mouth dropped open in protest. “Hey! I keep my tongue in my mouth and have never once looked at opposite walls at the same time.”

See? Perfect.

I threw my head back, laughing. “You fucking dork. Come here,” I said, pulling him into a hug. Alfie let out a small cry of surprise, which was muffled when his face hit my chest.

He inhaled deeply and let out a chuckle. “God, you smell so good. And I really am sorry.”

“No more apologies,” I said, tightening the hug, a weird sort of relief filling my chest.

I’d spent a lot of time trying to figure out what my person would look like, who they would be. Maybe it was the roller coaster of emotions, the last remnants of adrenaline in my bloodstream, but that tiny voice in my head—the one that had saved my life on so many occasions—said this one. This is your person.

I ignored the pop and fizz of this revelation because I was an adult human being with a decent IQ, and there was no such thing as love at first sight. Sure, these apps, even the good ones, tried to promote the idea of instant connection, fireworks, and boners on command. Pretty far-fetched if you asked me.

Don’t ask me right now, though. Despite how our initial meeting went, I might give you a soliloquy on how Alfie felt like home with his springy curls and earnest smile.

Literally, stop being so ridiculous, Gid.

Also, I’d gone quiet for an awkward amount of time. While still holding Alfie in my arms because the thought of letting him go felt impossible.

“Well,” he said, with his forehead on my chest. “You know what I do. What do you do?”

I chuckled. A question I could answer.

“I write young adult fantasy and science fiction.”

He pulled back and craned his neck look at me. “You write young adult fiction?”

I smiled, pride filling my chest. “Yes, I do.”

“Would I know any of your work?”

I shrugged, then stepped out of the hug and put my arm around his waist, walking him over to the wall of books, complete with rolling ladder. I pointed to the shelves that held my backlist catalog.

“That’s me.”

Recognition lifted his brow, but he shook his head, stepping closer to read the spines.

“ Bullshit . There is no way you’re Everett Goodnight. Prove it.”

I shrugged, inordinately glad for the teasing. “Okay.”

I pulled out my phone and opened my publishing account. Navigating to the books, I showed him my sales for the day.

“Shit,” he said, resting his head on my shoulder and his hand on my belly. “Someone should tell Everett Goodnight that you’ve hacked his account.”

I laughed because that’s what he made me do, apparently.

“We wait in midnight lines, my niece and I, for your books. I had no idea you lived in the area.”

“Nobody does.”

“It must be nice to maintain your anonymity.”

I nodded. “I often get overwhelmed with people. So, I usually stick to the square here in G-town, H-E-B, and the boxing gym.”

Alfie whistled under his breath. “Well, that explains the muscles,” he said, squeezing my arm.

I inhaled sharply, and his molten brown eyes caught my gaze. I’d been off-balance this entire evening, but this was the first moment I’d felt grounded. Steady.

He darted a look to my lips, then back to my eyes.

I’d definitely kissed on a first date. Definitely rounded some bases on a first date. Hell, I’d fucked on a first date, and that’s not counting the one-night stands.

I hesitated because the feeling in my chest wasn’t like anything I’d ever experienced. Maybe I hesitated a little too long because he dropped his chin again, probably thinking I didn’t want him.

I touched his jaw, drawing it up until his eyes were on me.

“Gideon, you have no idea how sorry I am that?—”

I cut him off with a kiss. My knees weakened when he whimpered, then opened his mouth, kissing me back like he couldn’t imagine doing anything else. Suddenly, I was visualizing a split in the timeline of my life, a distinct before and after.

A warm knowing filled my body, and suddenly the whole humiliating dog incident felt like a blip on a fading horizon

I was in trouble.

So much goddamn trouble.

I deepened the kiss, invading his mouth with my tongue, the small moan at the back of his throat sending chills down my neck and spine.

I found an unoccupied bit of wall and pushed him up against it. We kept kissing until, desperate for air, I finally pulled away. He looked as drunk as I felt.

“Fuck,” I swore under my breath.

He blinked several times like he was trying to refocus. “Yeah.”

He adjusted his hips, bumping his steely shaft against mine. After kissing for just a few seconds, we were both fully hard.

I went in for another kiss, and soon enough, we were making out like proper teenagers, pulling at each other, grabbing whatever could be grabbed, humping against each other.

“God, I want to fuck you,” I said, then grimaced at my audacity.

Alfie nodded with his entire body. “Yes,” he said, grabbing my shirt. “Why do you feel like oxygen?”

I shook my head. “I don’t know, but you feel the same.”

We stood there, entranced, gazes locked. Alfie eventually blinked and looked down, his hands still gripping my shirt. “Oh my God. Did you add a Star Trek communicator to a red shirt?”

I buried my nose into his hair, inhaling and laughing as I nodded.

“I thought it was funny,” I said, in awe of how necessary he felt.

Something like gratitude shone in his eyes, and I wished I could capture the way he looked at me like I was something special. “It’s perfect, Gideon.”

“You don’t mind being fucked by a red shirt?”

“Oh, please. You’re clearly undercover. If I were to look in your closet, I’d see a full set of mustard-colored security uniforms. Don’t try to trick me with your vulnerable hates-all-dogs act, sir. I see you.”

I pulled away, holding up my hands. “I don’t hate dogs. That’s not what that was.”

Alfie’s eyes went wide, and impressive move considering how big already were. “Sorry, sorry, sorry. As a therapist, I actually know that.” He then pointed to the hard-on pressing against his zipper. “As a horny, stupid man, all of the blood for processing speech is currently in my dick.”

Fuck, I knew we’d have to do something about this dog thing, but his worried expression made me want to kiss it away and drag him into my arms. So, I did.

“I know I’m sensitive about it, and we’ll get into it, but…fuck I need you naked.”

Relief colored his expression. “Me too. We’ll figure it out.”

“Good. Now take your fucking clothes off.”