“So how do you want to do this exactly?” Micah asked when it seemed like Damon was finished inspecting his décor. He plopped down on one side of the couch, leaving the other half available for the man. “Did you make, like, flash cards or something? You know, for all the things I need to know before this dinner?”

Damon raised his eyebrows. “I was hoping to go about this more… organically, I suppose?”

“No flashcards then, okay.” Micah bit his lip, thinking. He had an idea, but Damon would probably think it juvenile. Still, it was worth a shot. “Want to play twenty questions?”

Damon frowned. “What’s twenty questions?”

It wasn’t a “no”.

Perking up, Micah patted the seat next to him. Damon obediently sat, and Micah turned to face the man, folding his legs pretzel-style and ignoring how one of his knees pressed up against Damon’s thigh. “It’s pretty much what it sounds like. We take turns asking each other questions, and the other person answers.”

Damon’s frown didn’t ease. “What if you ask a question that I don’t want to answer?”

“Well, it’s not like I can make you,” Micah pointed out reasonably, “but I thought the whole point of this rendezvous was for us to get to know each other.”

When Damon still didn’t agree, Micah sighed. “How about we’re both allowed to pass on any questions we don’t like, but if we do, we have to answer the next question we’re asked – provided it’s not just a reworded version of the original question.”

“Okay,” Damon agreed reluctantly after taking a minute to contemplate the ground rules Micah had laid out.

Micah smiled – and though it had no right, it was the first one in days that actually fit his face – it didn’t feel forced or strained or fake. It felt real. “Okay, since it was my idea, I get to ask the first question.”

Damon’s dubious expression made it clear what he thought of that, but he didn’t protest, so Micah took a moment to think about what he wanted to ask. He supposed he should probably ease Damon into the game, so nothing that would make him use a pass right away. Still, it ought to be something he actually wanted to know the answer to.

Micah grinned. He had just the question.

“Do you think I look pretty in a skirt?”

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER TEN

Over the next handful of hours, Micah learned a plethora of information about Damon.

Apparently the man was a Yankees fan, his favorite cuisine was Italian, he identified as bisexual, and he had a tattoo. When Micah had immediately used his next question to demand what the tattoo was of and where it was located, he’d been treated to the erotic sight of Damon stripping off his suit jacket and unbuttoning his shirt.