Green. A gorgeous shade of green.
He offers me a smile. “First time here?”
I dumbly nod.
He extends a hand. “Chris.”
My brain orders my hand to engage. “Kevin.”
He glances around, then his gaze returns to me. “You here alone, or meeting someone?”
“Alone.”
His gaze narrows even as his smile widens. “So feel free to tell me to go to hell, if you want. But I get the feeling you were kind ofchecking me out, yeah?”
I nod. He’s got a little bit of an Old Florida kind of drawl. Not full-on Okeechobee, but he probably didn’t grow up in Tampa.
He’s fucking gorgeous, and he’s probably out of my league. He strikes me as the kind of guy who is confident and knows what he wants and has no trouble setting out in pursuit of it.
“Single?” he asks.
“Yeah.” I plunge ahead, rambling, unableto contain my stupid mouth. “I’ve never done this before. I mean, I’ve been with girls, but I’m gay. I’m sure I am, but I’ve never been with a guy, and before I graduate and start my internship in DC, I just wanted to get out and meet a guy this week and…” I run out of steam, terror taking over again.
Great. He’s probably going to think I’m an idiot.
Instead he leans in, so close I can feelhis breath against my ear. “I think you’re hot, Kevin. You have dinner yet?”
I shake my head.
He holds his hand out, and it takes me a moment to realize he wants me to take it. His fingers close around mine and he leads me over to his friends, who are all watching us approach.
He introduces us, and I honestly cannot tell you their names. I’m too much into Christopher.
One of them, a skinnyblond guy, looks me up and down. “Chris, you bitch, first guy you talk to?Really? I always said you were lucky.”
Chris shrugs and tips his drink, draining it before he sets the empty cup on the high top. “I’m lucky.” He smiles. “Don’t wait up.” Then he leads me toward the club exit. “Finish your drink. You can’t take it outside.”
I gulp it and toss the cup in a garbage can near the door. “W-whereare we going?”
He squeezes my hand. “Do you like Italian?”
