Page 16 of Finley

As Daniel’s short response lingered between them, Brantley placed the cup full of ice down.

“You look…different,” he said, and then he cursed his own damn tongue. He hadn’t wanted to saythat. He’d wanted to tell Daniel something along the lines of how good he looked, that he was thrilled he was back, but nothing was coming out.

When Daniel slid off the stool and walked his way, Brantley’s eyes flicked out to the crowd gathered on the balcony before coming back to the man closing in on him. The man he’d fallen asleep inside of so many times that he’d lost count.

“A lot’s changed,” Daniel told him before stopping to rest his hip against the counter, effectively blocking Brantley’s way out of the kitchen. “I’vechanged. But I’m pleased as hell to see that you haven’t.”

“Oh God,” Brantley whispered, unable to fathom that Daniel was standing right there in front of him—within touching distance. “Finn?—”

“You wanted me here,” Daniel interrupted, pulling a piece of paper out of his pocket.

Brantley’s gaze shifted to the envelope he’d sent several weeks ago as Daniel ran his finger along the edge of the rectangle. His erection pounded behind the zipper of his shorts as if though those fingers were stroking him, and when the side of Daniel’s mouth pulled into a cocky grin, Brantley cleared his throat.

The tension in the air was thick, and this new arrogance Daniel was throwing off was both sexy and, as Jordan had pointed out, intimidating.

“You wanted me here,” Daniel said again. “Well, I’m here. Now what?”

If that wasn’t the understatement of the century, Brantley wasn’t sure what was. Daniel was definitely there in all of his six-foot-two glory.

Trying for casual, he decided to stick with the truth. That way, he wouldn’t get in trouble. “You’re looking good, Finn.” There—that was the truth. Just slightly understated.

The roguish smile that curved Daniel’s mouth had Brantley taking a step back until his ass hit the counter.

“Just good?” Daniel asked, casual as you please.

Brantley couldn’t help the way his lips twitched at Daniel’s attitude. As a young man, he had been cocky in an understated way. At thirty, he was extremely aware of his appeal—and rightly so.

It was exciting.

It was arousing.

And it was having the exact effect Daniel was intending. Brantley was hard as a fucking rock and Daniel hadn’t even touched him.

“Better than good. But I think you already know that.” His gaze darted to the door again and then back to Daniel, who’d taken another step forward.God,he was so close now.

“It doesn’t matter what I think. I want to know whatyouthink.”

“I think you’re?—”

Daniel placed a hand on the sink behind him, bringing them close enough that should Brantley move a fraction of an inch, he could kiss the guy.

“Making you nervous?”

Brantley turned his head, and when their eyes met, a shiver raced down his spine at the desire swirling in the golden ones holding him in place. “No, Finn. You don’t make me nervous.”

One of Daniel’s eyebrows arched, and Brantley was surprised by how much he wanted to smooth his finger over it.

“No?”

“No.”

“Then what is it? Why do you keep looking at the doors?”

He glanced over to them again, but when they remained suspiciously closed, he looked back to Daniel. “Did you lock them?”

“Yes. I didn’t want our little reunion to be interrupted. I didn’t think you would either. Now, stop avoiding my question.”

“I’m not avoiding it. I answered you.”