“You didn’t want me to see any other clients, even if I was no longer seeing you.”

Heat rushed to Thorne’s face. He wasn’t going to deny it. “Yes, that too.”

Dash’s expression softened. “I didn’t want to see any more clients. The job had been fun, but it wasn’t anymore unless I was with you.”

“Could we start over? Try dating? I can go slow.”

Dash closed his eyes. And Thorne measured off the seconds by tapping his fingers against the cup he’d yet to take a sip from. Neither of them had touched their doughnuts.

“I want to say yes, but I’m…”

“Scared? Because I am too. But I’m just as scared not to try, because I can’t stop thinking about you. You changed me. I eat breakfast now, and I never work on Saturday afternoons, and—”

Dash laughed. “I think about you all the time too. I watch a movie and think whether you’d like it. I see paintings and wonder if you’d enjoy them.”

“Just have lunch with me, like we agreed. No pressure, just talking, friendship.”

Dash frowned. “Is that all you want?”

“No. It’s far from all I want. Because what I want is…everything. But it’s a beginning.”

Dash chewed his lower lip. Thorne’s cock responded to the sight of Dash’s tongue. Could he go slow? Yes, he had to. Anticipation was sweet, right?

Dash raised his coffee cup. “To beginnings.” They tapped their cups together, laughing. It felt good to laugh with Dash again.

“Now try your doughnut,” Dash encouraged.

Thorne picked up the pastry, but Dash shook his head. “Not like that. You’ve got to dunk it in the coffee. They were made for each other.”

Thorne looked around in case his mother or the manners police were watching. He’d already made a fool of himself in front of Dash’s neighbors. Why was he worried about a little doughnut dunking?

“Mmm,” he said as he bit into the now coffee-flavored pastry. “You have great taste.”

Dash looked him up and down, seeming to relax for the first time since they’d sat down. “Yeah, maybe I do.”

The quirk of his lips—God, how Thorne had always loved that smug little smile—made Thorne’s pulse accelerate and warmth spread through his chest. He wanted Dash, needed him. Please let me say the right things this time.

They finished their doughnuts and coffee and walked back to Dash’s apartment. Halfway there, Dash reached for Thorne’s hand and intertwined their fingers. It was the first time Thorne had ever walked down the street holding hands with a man. He glanced around, wondering if they’d be noticed.

“It’s fine here. Trust me.”

Thorne nodded.