Gambling On Maybe by Fae Sutherland (romantic love story reading txt) 📕

Trust me." Zach beamed and resisted the urge to kiss him. "You'll come by. Be hungry. I'll order something fabulous and pretend I cooked it." He laughed and tugged open the door, then strolled for the elevators on the opposite side.

He paused to grab his bag off the desk now occupied by a rotund, middle-aged man. "Thanks for watching it for me, gorgeous," he murmured with a wink. The man choked and his ears went red as Zach slid the bag over his arm and headed for the door with every eye in the room on him as he did.

Just the way he liked it.

It was around seven that night when he got a phone call from Officer Hotness—he didn't ask how Stevie had gotten his phone number since the man had major resources at his disposal—telling him he didn't get off until ten, and saying he understood if Zach wanted him to forget coming over.

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Gambling On Maybe

by Fae Sutherland

As if! With his propensity for long, late nights and sleeping until noon, ten P.M. was pretty much normal dinnertime anyway. Which Zach cheerfully told his officer. He had a feeling Stevie had been equal parts disappointed he hadn't gotten out of it, and just as deep down glad he could still come over.

Stevie was a strange sort of animal, kind of skittish, primed to bolt at the first rustle in the bushes. Zach was going to have to approach him differently than he did his usual types.

All the sparkle and confidence, less of the slutty and trashy, he thought.

So, new approach in mind, he discarded the whorehouse version of a kimono he'd considered wearing—sort of Big Trouble In Little China meets To Wong Foo— and instead settled on a pair of minty green workout shorts with "yum"

written across the butt in pink, and the matching hoodie, which was pink with minty green accents. He thought he looked like an adorable snow cone, and one could never go wrong with a descrip like that!

Bare feet and tousled brown hair looking vaguely like he'd just been actually working out and he was ready to knock Officer Hotness's uniform pants off. Or strip them off, whichever was easier in the end.

So when ten o'clock arrived with no knock at the door, Zach was a little disappointed, but told himself cops got busy and maybe there'd been an emergency. He waited, fretting as the delivery Italian he'd ordered started to get cold.

Eleven o'clockEstill no Stevie.

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Gambling On Maybe

by Fae Sutherland

Eleven-thirtyEZach shut off the oven and put the food in the fridge.

MidnightEhe wasn't coming.

Zach plucked at the fringed edge of one of his sofa throw cushions, the vibrant grape satin gleaming in the faint lamplight. This was unexpected. Zach had been prepared for lots of things, but Stevie just plain not showing up wasn't one of them.

He considered calling him, then realized he only had his number at the station, and he doubted Stevie was still there.

He'd probably gone home, deciding he'd had enough of the strange little queer boy.

Zach sighed, reaching over to switch off the end table lamp. His super comfy futon got pulled flat into his bed and he opened the compartment underneath to pull out his fluffy comforter and pillows. This called for the big pity party guns.

He was going to sulk for the rest of the night, watch the two episodes of Project Runway he had on his DVR and maybe make himself an appletini or two while he watched. Then in the morning he'd forget all about the closeted cop, who probably wasn't thinking about him at all.

Zach settled down on his futon, sprawled on his tummy, wrapped up in his electric blue comforter, with an appletini on the end table beside him. He'd just reached for the remote when he heard something outside. Footsteps orElike shuffling feet or something.

He eased off the futon, comforter still wrapped around him, and slinked toward the door, listening. Sure, he'd told Stevie last night this was a safe neighborhood, but that didn't 20

Gambling On Maybe

by Fae Sutherland

mean people still didn't try to break into people's houses. He glanced around, wondering what he could use for a weapon in case it was a burglar, then jumped with a squeak at the light knock on his door.

A burglar who knocked?

Zach tiptoed over to the door and stretched up to peek through the peephole.

Oh!

He spun, heart racing. He was so not prepared for this anymore. The comforter got tossed onto the futon, no help for it since he didn't have time to hide it all away. He raked his hands through his hair, mussing it and wishing for a mirror. The worst part was he'd already changed out of his super-cute outfit and into his pajamas, which consisted of blue patterned satin brocade pajama pants and a plain white t-shirt with "OMGWTF?" across the chest.

Not his best look.

WellEmaybe Stevie would think it was cute. Casual. Real.

Oh, God, he hoped so.

Turning back to the door, Zach faked a yawn as he opened it, giving his best surprised, oh-my-goodness-what-is-this?"

gaze, blinking up at a very sheepish, still oh-so-very-adorably-sexy Stevie.

"Hey," he murmured, leaning against the door with a little smile. "What are you doing here?" Another fake yawn. Why no, Mr. Officer Hotness, I did not stay up waiting for you, see? I totes went to bed, unconcerned about your no-show.

So there.

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Gambling On Maybe

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Stephen could tell right away Zach hadn't actually been asleep, or even close to it. He'd catalogued enough crime scenes to notice small details like the remote and the appletini on the end table, as well as the lack of sleepiness in Zach's eyes and not so much as a pillow crease on his cheeks.

Still, he felt bad and couldn't blame the guy for pretending he hadn't been awake when Stephen had almost stood him up. Did that make this a date? Oh, God, what was he