Hmmm. “Fine.” I ended the call, determined once I got home I’d do some social-network stalking. How many guys living in Sydney called Hennessy could there possibly be?

Chapter Four

Hennessy

He knew who Daniel Keyes was. He knew the author and title of one of my favourite books in the world. Nobody knew who Daniel Keyes was. Well, not guys I’d dated anyway. Some were lucky to know which end of a book to hold. I had nothing against guys who didn’t read, per se, but most of them couldn’t even pretend to act interested when I told them about books I loved.

But I only had to mention the title and Jordan knew who the author was. And his eyes when I admitted it wasn’t music I was listening to… well, his grey-coloured eyes melted like silver, warm amber with hints of blue and green. And he smelt really good, and his nervous rambling was kinda cute.

At the meeting the night before, I thought he’d looked familiar and I wondered where I’d seen him before. And I’d wondered where the hell he’d seen me. What did he call me the other night? He called me Headphones Guy, so it was either to or from work, or maybe the gym. And then I recognised him on the bus. Of course I’d seen him get on the bus before, always at the same stop on Crown Street, but I didn’t reconcile him with the guy at the meeting the other night. But now it kind of clicked.

I had to admit, I was intrigued.

I’d been intrigued after the meeting, when he’d broken down the defensive walls he’d put up around his acceptance of being somewhere on the asexual spectrum. He talked a mile a minute, and it was kind of hard to follow at first, but he was clearly very smart and articulate, and he was funny as hell. But he was also vulnerable, and he was there for help on understanding and coming to terms with who he was. Being intrigued by him in a romantic way wasn’t on the cards at all. I couldn’t and wouldn’t abuse his trust in me as a support group leader.

But then he had to go and know who Daniel Keyes was, and he just had to look at me in a way that made my heart squeeze. Eye contact was such a big thing for me, and there was no way he could even know that.

So there I was at work the next day, distracted enough for Michael to notice. “You want to talk about what’s got your mind a million miles from home?”