Road To Romance_A First Time Gay Enemies To Lovers Romance by Peter Styles

Author:Peter Styles [Styles, Peter]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Equal Love Publishing
Published: 2018-09-23T23:00:00+00:00

10

Luke

It was settling in on me that the degree to which I had misjudged Max Stephens was approaching the truly astronomical. I wasn’t sure how to come back from this.

The restaurant was some overpriced place with dim lighting and reviews on the back of the menu. We were sitting side by side in a corner booth, our knees knocking. He was sitting next to me, frowning at a menu, and all I could think was: Holy shit, I was wrong. We could have been doing this years ago.

The confession, if you could call it that, weighed on me heavily. I had known Max since we were both eighteen—this accident must’ve been a year before. And I’d had no idea.

Knowing it now, knowing how it had affected him—everything I knew about Max made more sense. As if things had shifted over a spot, and now everything was lined up in place.

I’d thought that Max was careless, carefree. When I was feeling generous, I thought it was an act. I never considered that it was a response to caring too much. That it could be genuine and honest, but not from a place of naïvety.

I could practically taste the guilt on my tongue. I grabbed a glass of water from the table and drank half of it in one go.

“I want to order everything on the menu,” Max said decidedly, setting his menu down. He turned, his elbow on the table, and propped his chin on the hand. Wrinkling his nose, he watched me. “For the love of God, tell me you’re not going to order another salad.”

“I eat more than salad.”

“You eat a lot of salad.”

“Salad…” I sat my menu down and mirrored his position. His smile widened when my chin hit my hand. “Is good for you.”

“It’s not enough,” Max disagreed.

“For what?”

He grinned wide. “For the energy you need tonight.”

My mouth fell open and I felt my face burn. “Shut up.”

He laughed. I swatted at his elbow until his hand fell. “Just, seriously,” he said. “Order something good.”

I ignored him, but when the waiter came and Max ordered a steak, I ordered one too.

The food was good, and the beer that Max had suggested was pretty good. The restaurant was nice, but Max’s moan every time he had a good bite, and his foot rubbing up against my ankle every few minutes, was much nicer—and much more distracting.

When the waiter asked if we wanted dessert, I asked for the check. Max’s eyebrows rose; I ignored him.

He signed the credit card receipt while I thanked and tipped the waiter.

As soon as we were outside, Max threw me against the wall. He lips crashed on mine and he kissed me hard. “You’re a tease.”

“You’re the tease!” I argued.

Max narrowed his eyes. My body tingled with anticipation.

We made it back to the hotel room nearly in one piece. Max’s hands were everywhere, tugging at my shirt, my hands, my pants. He stripped me in quick flashes between hard, biting kisses and unimaginably delicious swipes of his hands across my bare skin.

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