Read Darwin's Natural Selection for Free Online

I’m fine.” His words were brusquer than Darwin deserved but Tom couldn’t help it. It’d been six months and he still couldn’t get through two minutes of a normal date. How fucked up was he?
    Hands touched his shoulders and Tom spun around. “Just leave it, okay?”
    The startled face of the maître d’ looked back at him. “Your coat, sir?” he asked tentatively.
    Blood rushed into Tom’s face again.
    “Sorry,” he muttered, shrugging out of his coat and handing it over. The maître d’ took it tentatively, as if Tom might snatch it back at any second. Darwin handed his coat over and raised an eyebrow at Tom, looking amused.
    For some reason, the humor in Darwin’s expression took the sting out of Tom’s embarrassment. “He thinks I’m crazy,” he muttered to Darwin, who grinned.
    “Probably just thinks you really like your coat.”
    Tom laughed. He couldn’t help it.
    Although he stopped abruptly when Darwin’s finger brushed his cheek.
    “Sorry,” Darwin apologized, dropping his hand. “It’s just that you have dimples.”
    Tom eyed him warily, not sure what to say.
    With a shrug, Darwin explained, “I hadn’t seen them before. I like them.”
    “Oh.” Tom, desperate for a way out of a moment that had gone awkward with unexpected heat, couldn’t think of anything else to say. When the maître d’ reappeared to lead them to the table where Tom’s sister was holding court, he wanted to kiss the man in gratitude.
    He darted a quick glance back at Darwin.
    He’d actually rather kiss that man though.
    The thought sent a fresh surge of panic through him and Tom sighed.
    He really was a huge amount of fucked-up.
     
    Tom’s sister looked like a feminine version of him, with the same dark-brown hair and doe eyes, the same full bottom lip and dimples. Because of the resemblance, Darwin was predisposed to like her even before she opened her mouth.
    “Well, fuck me,” she breathed, staring at Darwin.
    “Excuse me?” the man next to her said, the corners of his mouth twitching with a suppressed grin.
    “Oh! Sorry, honey.” She gave him a distracted pat on the arm. “I was just so sure Tom’s date would be, you know, imaginary or a hooker or something.” Her gaze narrowed. “You’re not a hooker, are you?”
    “Anne!” Tom yelped.
    Darwin shook his head, amused. “Framer —as in houses, not paintings. And you?”
    She laughed. “Yeah, I’m not a hooker either. I’m Anne, this is Quinn, and you must be Darwin. Wow.”
    “Okay, quit drooling,” Quinn teased her, holding out his hand for Darwin to shake.
    “Have a seat. I have to warn you, though—if you sit next to Anne, be prepared for the third degree.”
    Darwin glanced around the table. The only two unoccupied chairs were to Anne’s left. The rest of the spots were filled by guests who were watching with interest.
    Tom sat in the chair directly next to Anne.
    “I’ll try to be the buffer,” he muttered as Darwin sat down next to him.
    “I’m Macy,” the redhead to his left said.
    “Darwin.” He shook her hand.
    “So you’re Tom’s…?” Her question trailed off unfinished.
    Darwin’s mouth twitched. “Yeah,” he answered. “I’m Tom’s.”
    Tom must have overheard the exchange because he made a small sound under his breath, somewhere between a sigh and a groan. Darwin held back a grin.
    “Well, he didn’t ease back into the dating pool, did he?” Macy commented, eyeing as much of Darwin as she could see in his seated position. “He jumped in with both feet instead.”
    Darwin cocked an eyebrow.
    “Not that there’s anything wrong with jumping in,” Macy said hastily. “Now, diving without checking the depth—that’s a good way to end up paralyzed.”
    He blinked. “What?”
    “Macy, sweetie,” Anne leaned forward, “I think you’ve gotten lost in your metaphor. She’s right though.”
    “About not diving before checking the depth? Yeah, that’s good advice,” Darwin said, catching Tom’s