Page 2 of Erotic Temptations 2

Okay. Maybe I was staring a little.

If this were a romcom, I’d be racing across the street and confessing my undying love. In real life, I considered hidingbehind the curtain and pretending I hadn’t seen him at all. That was more my style.

But then Ryan looked up and spotted me. Shit!

He grinned, wide and open, and waved. A dorky mittened wave, like we were still kids.

I wiggled my fingers back, a feeble hello, and wondered how weird I probably looked.Old habits die hard.

After a minute, curiosity or self-destructive tendencies—or both, let’s be honest—got the better of me. I pulled on a hoodie and boots, then tramped downstairs, nearly getting impaled by a garland-wrapped banister. Mom intercepted me at the door.

“Where are you going? Dinner’s soon!”

“Just going to say hi to Ryan. He’s across the street. Shoveling.”

Mom’s expression softened. “Oh, good. You haven’t seen him in years. Tell him hello from us!” She patted my arm like I was five and about to cross the street by myself.

Outside, the cold bit through my hoodie like a personal insult. Snow crunched under my boots. At least it covered up the fact that I still walked like I’d spent my life indoors. Spoiler. I had. As I crossed the street, Ryan straightened and rested the shovel against his shoulder.

“Hey, stranger!” His voice was much deeper now but still warm. He brushed snow from his sleeve and graced me with a breathtaking grin.

“Hey yourself.” I tried for casual, but my teeth were chattering. “Either you enjoy pain or you lost a bet with your dad.”

Ryan laughed. “Neither. My parents are in Florida, so it’s just me battling the elements. Gotta keep up the neighborhood standards.” He gestured at the snow, which had already half-filled the part he’d just cleared. “Or, you know, try.”

I glanced over his handiwork, then back at his face. “You missed a spot.”

He shot me a look. “I did not.”

“You kinda did.” I pointed at a stubborn patch by the mailbox.

“Blame the plow guy,” he said conspiratorially. “He’s got it in for me.”

That smile was dangerous. If I hadn’t been so cold, I’d probably have melted right there on the sidewalk.

“So, how’s life?” Ryan propped the shovel against the porch rail. “You’re still living in Chicago, right?”

“For my sins. Yeah.” I crossed my arms, mostly for warmth. “Working, not dating, you know, the whole tragic gay urbanite thing.”

His eyes crinkled. “That makes one of us. I’m still here, living the local dream. Lawnmower, house, and a fridge full of questionable leftovers.”

At least one of us had a fridge. I mostly had takeout boxes and LaCroix. “Sounds glamorous.”

He shrugged. “You know me. Always living on the edge.”

Awkward silence threatened to settle, but Ryan just leaned against his porch rail and watched me with a steady gaze. “You look good, Alan.”

I nearly swallowed my tongue. “You need to get your eyes checked,” I said, because witty deflection was my only move.

“Nah. I can see perfectly.” He grinned, and for a second, I felt sixteen again, convinced he was flirting. But he’d never flirted with me before. Not even when I all but drooled on him at Homecoming.

Distracted myself by looking around. “You’ve kept your parents’ house in one piece. Impressive.”

“They’d kill me if it looked bad on Zillow. I keep the lights on, shovel the walk for nice neighbors, keep the plants from dying.”

I glanced up at his “nice neighbors” comment, but he just grinned wider. “And what about you? Work good?”

“Work is…work.” I shrugged, looking anywhere but his eyes. “I’m in HR now. I’m the fun police.”