Page 13 of American Love Story

“Yeah it’s a problem. Listen, I’ll call you back, okay? I’m about to get into the elevator.”

“Let me know how it goes. And don’t think I didn’t notice how you avoided my question about Easton. We’ll get back to that next time we talk.”

I rolled my eyes and muttered, “Awesome.”

Which just got me a wicked laugh from Camilo.

I ended the call just as the elevator doors opened and looked up to see Easton Archer looking fucking edible in jeans and a white t-shirt.

I didn’t know what I was doing with Easton, but I could not deny he was the most beautiful guy I’d ever been with. He wasjust a bit under six feet tall, so I had to slightly turn my head down to talk to him…to kiss him. I exhaled, trying to tamp down the memories of that lithe body under me last summer, and the way he moaned and moved when we’d been together.

Fuck, I was getting hard.

He extended his hand, and if he was aware of my hard on, he was not going to make a thing about it. He just smiled and beckoned me into the elevator.

I stepped in feeling a little suspicious. Was he going to show me the place himself?

He must’ve guessed what I’d been thinking because he lifted a shoulder and flashed me those perfect teeth.

“I told Freide I could show you the place since I’m already here.”

I was about to ask if he always did that but decided to let it go. So, I just nodded and stepped in.

He was looking at me like he was trying to read my mind. I kept a neutral expression on my face and tried to roll with it. Keep it casual. I was here to see an apartment. Not to flirt.

He didn’t say whatever he was thinking and instead looked down at my feet and smiled. “Nice, I like your Jordans, are those the new Flyknits? I hadn’t seen them yet.”

I snapped my head up to look at him with what I knew was disbelief on my face. I was wearing the bright red pair of Js I’d bought as a graduation/new job treat to myself. They were the most expensive shoes I’d ever bought by a few hundred dollars and I still checked the weather forecast before wearing them out. I fucking loved them, but of all the people I thought would appreciate how dope these were, Easton Archer, who dressed like a preppy poster boy—all the fucking time—was not one of them.

“Uh, thanks.”

He laughed, probably guessing what I’d been thinking. “What, you didn’t think I’d be able to appreciate your kicks?”

I was going to go with something PC but decided to say what I was really thinking. “Umm no, not really, since you’re usually wearing Gucci loafers.”

At this point, the elevator stopped in the fifth floor and Easton extended his hand to me so I could get out. He followed right behind.

We stood in front of the apartment for a moment as he talked. “My mentee, Tyren, is a Jordans fanatic.” The smile on his face was a new one; there was some protectiveness and clear affection there.

“Well, he’s technically not my mentee anymore, although we’re still close. I mentored him when he was a high school student and he’s at Ithaca College now.” His face shone with pride when he said that. “Anyway, Ty has like twenty pairs.” His face was indulgent when he talked about his mentee, and it really fucking warmed my heart.

This guy had me bugging, for real.

He tipped his head down, his eyes back on my feet, “Ty was talking about those.” He rolled his eyes and chuckled, his hands deep in his pants pockets. “He actually convinced me to get a pair a while ago. I have some pretty boring gray ones. Retros, of course.”

He looked a little self-conscious, like he was waiting for me to mock him or something, but I was still stuck on the fact that he had been mentoring a young man for years, and they were still close. That he clearly cared for this kid. That piece of information, more than anything I knew so far about Easton, broke something open in me.

I was humbled, because I’d made too many assumptions about this man. Nesto was right—I didn’t really know very muchat all about Easton Archer, other than the way we could make each other feel.

I tipped my head to the side and pointed at the closed door behind him. “I’d like to see you rocking your Jordans some time.” He beamed at me, as if he hadn’t expected that response.“Butfor now, can I see this place you’re supposed to be showing me?”

He really was a beautiful man and with that little bit of red on his cheeks, I was having a hard time not reaching out and touching.

We walked into the apartment and immediately, I knew I was going to take it.

Everything looked pristine. It was a loft, open floor plan with high ceilings. There was one bedroom in one corner of the floor and another one in a mezzanine up a spiral metal staircase. The kitchen was completely done in stainless steel, even the countertops, and the dark hardwood floors gleamed.

Easton pointed at the space upstairs. “The mezzanine is deceptively large and it has a bathroom en suite. The one down here is just a shower, but that one has a pretty nice tub.” There was that dirty smile again. “I don’t know if you remember, but I have the same one at my place.”