“We can be assholes together.” Hunter kissed me. “Seriously, what did you want to do today? You don’t have to get straight back, do you? I don’t have to be at work until Sunday, so stay. I mean, if you want to.”
“That depends.”
“On?”
“Are you going to drag me to some park or are we going upstairs?” I stopped eating when I realized Hunter hadn’t said anything. Everything was so bloody tentative. I was trying. Trying so hard not to close myself off. Not to run. I put a hand on Hunter’s forearm. “It’s not you I’m afraid of. It’s me. I really, really don’t want to mess this up.”
Hunter focused on his plate, scooping more egg onto his fork. He jammed some toast into his mouth and looked up at me. “Eat up,” he said around his mouthful. “You’re going to need it.”
Minutes later, we chased each other up the stairs. We kissed for a long time. Eventually Hunter stretched out on his bed, naked but for sunlight streaming across him. I could not get enough of him. After a thorough exploration, we faced each other to catch our breath.
“You’ve been working out.” My fingers spread across his pectorals, relishing the smooth muscle, brushing by the patch of chest hair at his breastbone.
“No.”
I cocked at eyebrow.
“Okay, yeah. A bit.”
“You look amazing.” I yawned, covering my mouth with a hand. “Sorry, you’ve worn me out, love.”
“Let’s nap.” Hunter nuzzled my neck, grazing my jaw. “I like the scruff. You should keep it.”
“It’s all patchy,” I protested, scratching at the whiskers.
“Don’t argue with me. I know what I’m talking about.”
“I can deny you nothing in this bed.”
“Good. Come here.” Hunter pulled me closer. “We can skip the park and the bridge, but Schreiber’s Deli is a must. We’ll go there after.”
“After what?”
“After sleep and after I make you come again.”
I fell asleep with a smile on my face.
«±»
Schreiber’s was packed full of customers, but Hunter chatted with the guy behind the counter as he served up cold cuts, sandwiches, and potato salad. I hung back, watching, listening, absorbing the atmosphere. I’d been to a couple ofdelicatessens in Philly, but this was New York, and I soaked in the different accents and dialects.
The sandwich maker jerked his chin at me. “New friend, Bruce?”
Hunter looked at me, smiled. “Old friend. New relationship. Oh, and can we get some corned beef too? Mom will disown me if I come home without it.”
“Sure, half pound?”
Nodding, Hunter shifted his hand behind him, his fingers beckoning. I threaded through the crowd to take it.
We moved through the line. I pulled out one of Theo’s hundreds to pay for the sandwiches. Once we were on the street, Hunter slung an arm over my shoulder. I flinched. He pulled back. “What’s wrong?”
“No, sorry. It’s just… it’s stupid really. Even after a year of knowing the freedoms you have, I’m cautious about being affectionate in public. In my time, simple gestures between men could be misrepresented as evil.”
“But you held my hand in the deli.”
I shrugged. “Not before I assessed everyone in there, and even then, it wasn’t overt. It was almost hidden. Did you not notice?”
“I noticed your hand in mine, and that’s what mattered to me.” We walked toward Marjorie’s house. “You assessed everyone in there? Man, you’re watching way too much TV. First theSopranosand now you’re Jason Bourne?”
