Pining for Perfect by Ki Brightly

Author:Ki Brightly [Brightly, Ki]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: gay romance
ISBN: 978-1-64080-351-0
Publisher: Dreamspinner Press
Published: 2017-12-09T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter 8

Stokely Zajmi

I SWAY nervously from side to side but force myself to stop. I don’t want to look antsy. Cheerful noise spills out of the bar every time someone passes me to go inside, the door a bright smear of light in the otherwise unlit big old building behind me. I smooth down my dress jacket and fight off the urge to check my tie. I know I overdid it for a night at a bar, but I couldn’t bring myself to leave the apartment in anything less. I want to look good for him, look good with him. Maybe I’ll never send him a glitterbomb card, but I can give him my best efforts. I nervously blow into my hand to check my breath, but it’s still minty, the same as it was five minutes ago.

About ten minutes and two breath checks later, he pulls his car into the Brewerie parking lot. When he springs out, I’m happy I dressed up. He’s wearing a pair of jeans that might as well have been painted on. They cling to his thighs and draw the eye up to the bulge nestled there. His jacket is open over a nice Christmas-red button-down, and those angel curls of his are glossy and perfect. I want to mess them up bad.

It takes him a second to notice me, but when he does, he stops still for a second before he grins a bright smile and jogs my way. “Hey!”

I nod, not trusting myself to say much.

He stops near me, and for a few heated seconds, our eyes meet. Smiling, eyes glimmering green in the overhead light, he holds out a hand to me, and after a second or two, I take it. I rub my thumb over the back of his hand, loving how he sort of pushes up against the caress like he never wants me to stop. His eyes close for a heartbeat. I want to hug him close and take him somewhere private. When he opens his eyes, I’m hopeful we’re on the same wavelength, but he smiles and tugs me toward the door. We walk in to the dimly lit bar with my arm slung around his waist and his warmth snug against my side, filling me with a jittery pleasure.

It’s an old place that used to be part of the train station, with high ceilings, dark wooden trim, and booths fitted around the main bar area. All the wall spaces in between are painted white, obviously trying to brighten things up, but it doesn’t work very well. Too much space, not enough light. It’s oppressing in a strange way, but with Asher beside me, shining bright, it doesn’t matter.

He greets the girl who works with him, Alicia. A shocking green sequined dress skims along her curves. Iman would probably like it—and her, for that matter. She gives me a wicked little smile along with her enthusiastic wave. Floundering, I wave back.

Rapid-fire, Asher introduces me to several people from

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