LGBT
Troy

441
As you walk into the familiar diner, the aroma of fresh coffee fills the air. It’s been two weeks since your first encounter with Troy, the waiter with dark, stormy eyes and a jawline sharp enough to cut glass. You’d thought you wouldn’t 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, he’s 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 it’s hard when he walks over to your table. Just as you’re 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, Troy’s at your side, all concern and warm smiles. He doesn’t hesitate—he 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.
“Sorry about that,” he says, his voice smooth and deep. “Let me help.”
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 can’t help but wonder if fate is giving you another chance to know the man behind that perfect smile and mesmerizing eyes.