“Hey,” I murmured against his lips. “I kept thinking about you today.”
“Oh? All good things I hope.” His lips were soft, and I tasted cherry lip balm on them.
“Always. I was thinking about what we could do tomorrow while we have the house to ourselves. Steve has a match, and Connor’s workshop is from ten until four.”
A little shiver ran through Simon, then he smiled. “Hmmm, maybe you could do some laundry?” He chuckled. “Or hoover the living room. It’s your turn this week.”
“Ugh, that sounds fucking awful!” I heard the click of Connor’s heels on the floor, so I gave Simon a quick last kiss and stepped away, checking my pockets to make sure I had everything.
“Ready to go?” Connor asked, sticking his head around the door. I nodded and pulled out my phone to order an Uber, praying I could get through tonight without giving myself away.
Ruby’s was amazing.
We got there a little early, and Connor ordered us three cocktails at the bar that were much, much stronger than I’d anticipated. I hadn’t realised how potent the cocktail was until I’d drunk half of it. By the time we got to our table, I was definitely not sober, but I didn’t actually care.
We ordered some food, and Connor asked for another round of drinks as we all sat chatting. I sipped my drink and watched Simon and Connor arguing playfully about the lead actor in Final Cause. I’d always thought someone like that—tall, muscular and handsome with a slightly dominating attitude—would be Connor’s type. But he’d dated men like that in the past and it had never ended well. Simon, on the other hand, was all for it.
“But he’s so… so…” Simon said, carefully searching for a word as he waved his spoon around. Tipsy Simon was adorable. “Powerful.”
Connor giggled, and I wondered again what was in these cocktails. I made a mental note not to let Connor order any more of them, or we’d all be hungover as hell in the morning, and I wasn’t babysitting either of them. “Do you like powerful men then, Simon?”
Simon flushed deep pink and spluttered. “M-maybe?”
“That’s so cute!” Connor said, draining the last of his drink. “You should date Taylor. He’s bossy as fuck! And he’s got cuffs in the little sex toy box he keeps in the back of his wardrobe.”
Simon’s face turned from magenta to scarlet so fast I thought he might actually explode. “I-I’m, um, I’m going to go… I’ll be back in a second.” He hopped out of his seat and scuttled off towards the toilets at top speed. Connor watched him go and then rounded on me as soon as Simon was out of earshot.
“Are you two fucking?”
“What? No!” It was my turn to be flustered now. I wondered if I could also take Simon’s approach and run away. Fucking hell.
“Really? Really?” Connor asked, stretching out the syllables and looking at me with raised eyebrows. “Are you two seriously not fucking?”
“No, why would you think that?” I shoved food into my mouth and wished I could think of a way to change the subject. Connor hummed suspiciously.
“Because Simon obviously thinks you’re hot. And you can’t stop staring at him. You’re about as subtle as a brick to the back of the head. I think the whole restaurant saw you checking out Simon’s ass at the bar. I mean, it’s a cute ass, but seriously you keep staring at it like it’s a literal peach,” Connor said. “If you two aren’t smooshing booties then I want to know why the fuck not.”
“Smooshing booties?” I said with a snort.
“Do you want me to draw you a diagram?” he asked sweetly. “Has it been that long?”
“You’re such a dick.”
“And you still haven’t answered my question.”
“How’s Patrick?” I asked, suddenly thinking of a way to change the subject. Patrick was a pastry chef Connor had been dreamily pining over for years. They’d met when Connor had started doing some part-time waiting shifts at the restaurant where Patrick worked. He’d been a goner ever since.
“Don’t change the subject.” There was a definite flush to his cheeks that wasn’t from his blusher, and I grinned.
“I’m not. But I could ask you the same question. Why aren’t you and Patrick doing dirty things to each other every night? I know you like him.”
“That’s different,” Connor said. His face dropped, a sad smile on his lips. “I don’t think Patrick feels like that about me.”
“Oh, sweetie, I’m sorry,” I said, reaching my hand across the table and squeezing his. Connor nodded and squeezed back.
“What are you sorry about?” Simon asked, dropping into his seat.
“Connor’s crush doesn’t know he exists.” It wasn’t quite the truth, but it was close enough, and it meant Connor wouldn’t have to talk about it.
“That sucks. I’m sorry.” Simon nodded in commiseration. Then he smiled brightly. “Did you know Taylor’s favourite film is Mr. Smith Will See You Now? He made me watch it with him last week. And he rewound it so he could show me the guy’s dick!”
Connor’s happy grin returned as he looked at me, and I suddenly felt like I was a gazelle being sized up by a tiny lion. I was going to kill Simon.
Three hours later, we all stumbled home, full of food, and collapsed into bed. Simon in his room and Connor tucked in alongside me.
It was strange sleeping with another man in my bed. It had only been a week, but I was used to curling up with Simon, putting my arm around him and tucking him into me. I didn’t think Connor would mind if I ended up spooning him in my sleep, but I’d probably die of embarrassment if I woke up with a hard-on.
Connor fell asleep quickly, his tiny kitten snores filling my room. I snorted, tempted to record them so he could hear himself in the morning. I rolled over in bed, sighing and trying to force myself to relax. I knew
