Chapter Two

 

Hey?

Weren’t all Irishmen, Finns more than most, blessed with the gift of gab? His brother had used his charm to talk his way into a secret wedding for fuck’s sake.

Hey.

Maybe Matthew could be forgiven, since up close, Oliver was the first man he’d ever been able to describe as truly beautiful. Not merely pretty or handsome, but looking-at-you-makes-me-tongue-tied gorgeous.

He tried to take in the details with a single greedy glance. Golden brown skin that glistened—fucking glistened—with sweat. Perfectly toned muscles that could only have been sculpted with a lifetime of focus. Not two weeks in a gym.

Stop staring and say something. He’s looking at you like you’re crazy.

“It’s Oliver, right?”

That sounded casual enough. Short, but unassuming. Friendly, even. So why had there been a momentary spark of wariness in those warm brown eyes?

Damp curls clung to Oliver’s temple as he pulled out his ear buds. Without responding, he looked around Matthew’s shoulder towards the only other people in the building.

“They’re staring, aren’t they?” You bastards.

“Hey there, guy whose name I don’t know. Yes. They are definitely staring. Wait.” He paused, pursing his lips. “They were staring. Now they’re pretending to look at something behind us. This is a fun game.”

Matthew put his hands behind his back and made a rude gesture only they would see. “Sorry about that. Nosy family members. Still getting used to them.”

Oliver’s perfectly arched eyebrows rose slowly as he spoke. “You must be the owner’s brother. I don’t see any freckles, and you aren’t as built, but that accent is hard to miss and he’s mentioned you before. Mark?”

Matthew couldn’t decide what to react to first. The melodic sound of Oliver’s voice, his no-nonsense way of speaking, or the unflattering description.

Mark? Ouch.

“My name is Matthew. Matthew Finn. And yes, apparently I’m William’s less-built younger brother.”

Oliver set his free weights down, not quite hiding the flush that tinged his cheeks. “That was rude, wasn’t it? I tend to lose track of things when I’m in the zone. The time, my manners, maybe a few brain cells...” He stuck out his hand. “Oliver Garcia.”

Matthew took it, trying not to appear too eager. He wasn’t sure if it was his palm or Oliver’s that was damp, but the man’s grip was as strong and steady as his gaze. A tingle spread up Matthew’s arm and he had to force himself to let go before things got awkward.

Way too late.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt your workout, Oliver.”

“Why did you?”

“What?”

“Why did you leave the nosy family you’re still getting used to just to introduce yourself to me?” He glanced around, as if just noticing the empty gym. “So far I’ve only seen a few guys around when I come here, other than the handsome suit at the front desk. He’s always around. Do you work here, too?”

Matthew’s smile slipped and he rocked back on his heels. He could have gone forever without hearing Oliver call Robert handsome.

“No, I’m just here for moral support. You managed to get in the door early so you might not know this, but the grand opening is coming up next week. The place should fill up fast if the guy at the front desk—a breast man, to hear him tell it—is any good at his job.”

Sorry, Nora. Every man for himself.

Oliver’s shoulders fell in a subtle slump. “Too bad. I kind of enjoyed having this place to myself. Not that I’m hoping your brother’s business fails or anything. Especially since it looks like he’s about to be a father at any minute.” He shook his head dolefully. “Now it sounds like I’m calling his wife fat, when she’s always been so nice to me. Have I mentioned I have no social skills?”

Apparently they had something in common.

“Don’t worry about it. Bronte is about as pregnant as someone who isn’t having triplets can be, and she blames my brother for it on a weekly basis. It hasn’t slowed her down any, though.”

Oliver’s lips quirked. “Thank you for the save. Now that I’ve managed to stick my foot in my mouth twice in the last two minutes, did you come over here for a reason? Other than introducing yourself and letting me know the man at the front desk is straight?”

Matthew’s smile returned at that. “I did manage to slip that in. You’re very blunt, aren’t you? I think I like it.”

It was refreshing and oddly charming.

“Nobody likes it.” Oliver’s beautiful brow furrowed in disbelief. “It comes off like nervous rambling and it’s incredibly off-putting.”

Was he doing it on purpose to keep people away, or had he really believed whoever told him that? “I’m sorry to burst that bubble, but it’s not putting me off at all.”

“You’re the first then.” Oliver bent down to grab his water bottle and his shirt rose up, revealing a strip of skin where his lower back met that award-winning ass.

Matthew nearly swallowed his tongue.

Did he think this would be easy? That talking to him would break the spell? If anything, he was more conflicted. He wanted to utterly defile the beautiful Legs he’d been lusting after for the last few days, and shelter and protect the adorable Oliver he’d only just met.

No, that was wrong. Even adorable Oliver was in danger of being bent in half and fucked into next Tuesday.

You are so screwed.

“Do you like coffee?”

Oliver lowered the bottle and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, surprise flickering in his eyes. “You’re asking me out?”

He hadn’t planned on it. Not yet, anyway. His mission was to say hello, nothing more. He had totally fucked the mission.

“I am. If you’re available.”

As in, not dating the owner of the monster car.

“Tonight?”

“Now, if you’d like.”

Jesus, where had his game gone? Cool and confident with a touch of apathy had worked like a charm since puberty. He sounded too eager. He was too eager.

Oliver lowered his gaze, hiding his reaction. “I have to be honest, Matthew. I wasn’t expecting that.”

Shite. You weren’t?  “No pressure, I promise. Just conversation and coffee on me.”

On top of me. Under me.

Stop.

“How about that place around the corner?” he tossed out desperately.

Oliver bit his lower lip and Matthew almost groaned aloud. He needed to quit while he was ahead.

No pressure, he reminded himself sternly. That means no flirting and no innuendo if he agrees. Just keep your erection hidden in your big-boy pants so he doesn’t think you’re some weird perv who’s been watching him all week and jerking off to visions of his delicious ass every chance you get.

He was completely twisted. Here was poor, innocent Oliver, minding his own business, lunging his sexy ass off… He should walk away while it was still an option. For both their sakes.

“I need to shower,” Oliver said abruptly, interrupting Matthew’s escape plan and sending a rush of elation through his bloodstream. “I know the place you’re talking about, but I’ll be at least a half an hour. I’ll meet you there when I’m done?”

Holy mother of merciful— “Yes. I mean, that’s grand. Fine. Just fine.”

Matthew watched as he grabbed his hand towel and water, and strolled slowly toward the locker room without looking back.

He’s going to take a shower. A long. Hot. Shower.

Since he’d helped William grout the tile, Matthew was intimately familiar with that room. It was easy enough to imagine Oliver tugging off his tank and sliding out of his miniscule shorts to step beneath the pounding spray.  If he followed him in there, offering to skip coffee in order to wash his back instead, how would Oliver respond?

He could practically feel that golden skin, slippery and wet under his hands. Taste the salt as he licked a thorough trail down to that round, edible—

“Did he break you, Matthew?” Rory teased from across the room. “Can you feel your arms and legs? Blink if you understand me.”

Realizing he wasn’t alone was as effective as a splash of cold water. Maybe Oliver had broken him. “I’m fine. Your first-aid skills won’t be required at this time.”

“Those skills,” Rory specified as Matthew rejoined them. “But you’ll need more help from us, if that little exercise was anything to go by.”

Robert was leaning on his elbows, grinning even as he shook his head. “You work fast, I’ll give you that. Even for a Finn.”

Matthew scowled. “You heard us?”

They’d be bringing up his number one pickup line forever.

Hey.

Rory pointed to the ceiling. “This place is an echo chamber. Which is a good thing, in my opinion. Why coffee?”

Matthew shrugged. “It slipped out. But it works, right? A drink would be too pushy, a meal might be too much of a commitment.”

A motel room and handcuffs could send Oliver screaming into the night.

“What’s wrong with coffee?” Robert asked Rory. “He’s being a gentleman.”

“Amateurs,” Rory mumbled, rubbing his temples. “Nothing is wrong, except for the fact that coffee dates are made for deep conversations. At a bar, the music and crowds can drown out anything that isn’t light banter. But coffee? He’ll be walking through a veritable minefield of potential verbal blunders, and he can barely talk to the boy as it is.”

Knots started reforming in his stomach. “I want to get to know him. Isn’t that why I introduced myself?”

But now Robert was looking thoughtful. “Barbie has a point.”

“Barbie?”

“It’s your new nickname until you stop calling me Nora.”

Matthew’s hands clenched at his sides. It was like herding cats with these two. “What point is that, Robert?”

“In my experience, the first half hour of a date can make or break you. Make, as in you might eventually get laid. Break, as in he walks out and tosses his membership and my commission in the trash because you stuck your big Irish foot in your mouth.”

Matthew rubbed his palm over his face and strove for calm. “You can both tease me about my flubs to your heart’s content. Another day. Right now, though, it appears I may need a little more help.”

“Is the advice window open?” Rory asked hopefully.

“Do I have a choice?”

“Afraid not. Barbie and I are in this now. Have a seat and we’ll see what we can do.” Robert laughed. “I can’t wait to tell your brother. He is going to—”

Matthew sent him a warning look.

“Never hear about this from me,” Robert finished glumly. “Fine. I’ll keep my mouth shut as long as someone brings me leftovers from the next Finn Again.”

“That could be arranged,” Rory said agreeably. “We did just flip another Finn over to the Gay Side. That deserves some kind of compensation.”

He wasn’t flipped, damn it. He was…

Fuck it all. He wasn’t sure what he was.

Excited? Confused? Horny as hell and wishing you were in the shower with Oliver?

Yes. To all of the above.

“Coffee,” Matthew corrected his cousin sternly. “For the moment, that’s all this is.”

“And if you don’t play your cards right, that’s all it’s ever going to be.”

“Ignore Nora,” Rory said, sliding an arm through Matthews and guiding him back to his seat. “We don’t have much time to Cinderfella your oral skills. And yes, you can take that any way you want.”

Matthew eyed the men warily, wondering again why he’d thought they would be the best people to help him with his prickly problem.

Pickle. As in, you are in one right now. A big one. And yes, you can take that any way you want.