“Sure.”
“Bye.” Nate gave a small wave and watched Luka walk alongside Pops to the stairs.
And now I’m alone. Again.
Nate pushed the door shut and stood for a moment. A date. He was going on a date. Why was the reality of his situation only hitting him now? And why did he feel as if he was back in high school, his first date, all fumbling and unsure of himself?
“It’ll be fine,” he said on a long, exhaled breath. He pulled out his cell. There were no notifications. Everything was going as planned, right?
He sent a quick message to confirm he and Jared were still meeting at the station and heading to the restaurant together.
Yep. All good my end. See you in an hour, Jared wrote back.
An hour.
Their date was in an hour.
I need to get ready.
Chapter Thirteen
Something was different tonight. Jared had expected a quiet dinner where he’d get to know Nate better, maybe talk about the bar—and when they’d met at the station he’d seemed nervous, and Jared had to think that he just wasn’t ready to date again.
So in the space of the ten minutes they were on the train heading for dinner, Jared had worked it all through from Nate being a future lover to friend, and even though he had to fight the instinct to get another kiss, he was mostly happy with that. Nate had seen a lot, he was a responsible dad, he had bills to pay and a bar to run, and Jared could be a very good friend—people just had to ask Ethan.
But, by the time they’d reached the restaurant it was as if Nate was having some kind of similar internal conversation, only his upshot was that he’d given himself permission to relax and have fun. Over spaghetti, he opened up and told a hundred interwoven stories that revolved around Luka and the bar, and sometimes the stories overlapped. Jared could’ve watched him talk all night, note the way his eyes lit up when he was close to the end of a joke, or the pride that made him smile when he spoke about Luka.
Nate had a really beautiful smile, and there was no way Jared could handle being just friends. Friends didn’t want to back their friend into a wall and kiss them forever.
Waxing poetic now.
“Do I have something…?” Nate pressed the napkin to his face and went cross-eyed trying to check himself out.
“No.”
“It’s just you were staring, is all, and…”
Jared took Nate’s hand, lacing their fingers behind the jar on the table containing the mix of pasta that formed a display of sorts. No one would see them holding hands, not that it worried Jared, but Nate might not have wanted to even hold hands, let alone in a public place.
Only Nate didn’t pull his hand back, instead he squeezed Jared’s fingers and then carried on talking about the time that Gregg and Luka made a cocktail that was orange juice mixed with lightly smashed oranges, with a twist of orange.
“He was only six, and he brought it into the office for me, so proud that he’d made his first cocktail then he ran back out and fetched a napkin as he’d seen Gregg and me do.”
“Was it a nice cocktail?”
“It was very orangey, with a hint of citrusy orange.”
“Was it missing anything?” Jared encouraged Nate to continue with the joke, just so he could see Nate grin and then laugh.
“Orange?” Nate smirked as the waitress came over and removed their plates, leaving menus for dessert.
“Do you want anything?” Jared asked as he flipped to the dessert page with one hand, definitely not letting go of Nate. Well, not until they had to pay and leave, and then maybe there would be a chance to link hands again as they walked.
“I’ve never been here before, but Abi said they do this tiramisu cheesecake that’s really worth the calories.” He glanced at Jared. “Not that you have to worry about that,” he murmured, and then dipped his gaze, focusing on the menu.
“Nor do you,” Jared responded.
There was a moment when Nate worried the spoon in his hand as if he was making some monumental decision, but Jared didn’t get to hear it because the waitress was back. He opened his mouth to order dessert, but Nate beat him to it.
“Is it just me who wants to go home and…”
Did he mean go home and end the night or go home and whatever. When Nate squeezed his hand again Jared considered it was the whatever that was winning for them both.
“I want to.”
Decision made; Nate took charge for a moment. “We’d just like the check.”
The waitress nodded and was clearly trying hard to hide a knowing smile. “Any coffees?” she asked.
“We can get coffee at mine,” Nate turned to say that to Jared, and Jared’s libido perked up at the heat in Nate’s eyes. “If you like,” he added after a moment.
“Just the check, then,” Jared agreed, and thank god she appeared to understand where this was going because she fetched the check and brought the card machine with her. A few taps later and they were out on the sidewalk, bundled into coats and staring at each other in the light of the streetlamp.
“So you really want to come back for coffee, and by that I mean, kissing?” Nate asked hopefully. There was a boyish innocence to the man that captivated Jared, and then there was the heat in his eyes and the way he reached for Jared’s hand and gripped tight.
“Yes.”
“Just like that?”
“Uh huh.”
Nate tugged Jared to a waiting cab. “I’m not wasting time on a train,” he announced.
Jared climbed in after him, buckling up as Nate gave his address. “I like your thinking.”
They laced hands again in the backseat, sitting in a silence that Jared didn’t want to break because he didn’t want to spook Nate. They made it from the taxi to the front door
