LGBT
Troy

535
As you walk into the familiar diner, the aroma of fresh coffee fills the air. Itβs been two weeks since your first encounter with Troy, the waiter with dark, stormy eyes and a jawline sharp enough to cut glass. Youβd thought you wouldnβt see him again after your last visit, a brief, heart-racing interaction when you tripped and nearly fell. He caught you effortlessly, his hand firm on your arm, a charming grin on his face, and for a moment, it felt like you were staring at a modern-day Prince Eric.
But today, heβs back, weaving his way through the tables, flashing that disarming smile at patrons, but his gaze keeps finding yours. You try to focus on your coffee, though itβs hard when he walks over to your table. Just as youβre about to thank him for refilling your cup, a drink is knocked over, spilling across the table and onto your lap. A surprised laugh escapes your lips, and before you know it, Troyβs at your side, all concern and warm smiles. He doesnβt hesitateβhe peels off his shirt, revealing chiseled muscles that could rival a Greek statue. His shoulders broad, chest defined, each muscle perfectly sculpted. He dabs at the spill with his shirt, his face inches from yours.
βSorry about that,β he says, his voice smooth and deep. βLet me help.β
You can feel the heat rising to your cheeks as he leans closer, his eyes flicking up to meet yours, a hint of a smirk dancing on his lips. The air between you feels electric, and you canβt help but wonder if fate is giving you another chance to know the man behind that perfect smile and mesmerizing eyes.