“I’m meeting Finn for dinner.”
Her brown eyes, the same deep cocoa shade as mine, went wide. She squealed at top volume, then did a funky little dance. I rolled my eyes and folded my arms.
“Yes! I knew it. I knew you liked him! I could tell by how you talked about him. I insist on meeting him soon!” She gave me a fast hug, passed over her bottle of red polish, and started flinging clothes about the room. “Nope, no, oh God, this has stains. Nope, ugly, super old.” Shirts and pants were tossed over her shoulder with wild abandon.
“I’ll just wear a suit,” I said, and got a dark glower over her shoulder.
“No, a suit is too stiff. I think we can use some dress slacks and dress them down.” She started shoving clothes into my chest. Dark gray slacks, a light blue dress shirt, and a smoky ash sweater. “Do them. Oh, and a watch. Do you have boots?”
“Uhm, maybe? Like hiking boots?” I shuffled the clothes in my arms.
“Well, yeah, if nothing else. Are they black? Let me see.” She dove into my closet, emerging a few minutes later with black suede shoes I’d forgotten I owned, a sleek belt, and a coat that would keep me warm for about five seconds. “This is what you wear. The coat is for looks only, so don’t plan to be outside for too long. Dress socks. Donotpull on some ugly old tube socks that you’ve jerked off into. Right. Get dressed. I’m going to call the girls from the gym and tell them I’m running late to get to the club. I love that you’re dating!”
She gave me a quick hug and then ran off, leaving me standing in a pair of fleece joggers with an armful of date attire, chuckling.
Five minutes later, I was dressed. I had to admit my sister knew how to clothe a man for a night out with his art teacher slash hopeful steady dating guy. Man, that was a long title.
“Take it one step at a time, Walker,” I whispered to myself before heading out to meet the man I had pulled on too-tight boots for.
Chrysanthos’Café was packed. I was really glad I had reserved a table because the tiny club was wall-to-wall diners. Stepping out of the cold, I waited as instructed by a sign telling me the hostess would seat me. I removed my coat and hung it up on the coat rack to my left.
My nerves were on edge. Glancing into the dining area, I saw that most of the tables were occupied by couples. This was a really nice place to go on a date—small but trendy—with a three-piece band of older men seated on a triangular stage in the far corner, playing a lyra, a bouzouki, and a small drum, performing soft Greek tavern songs. The lights were low, the music mellow, and the aromas of veal stew, the special tonight, filled the warm air. A blast of cold air blew in behind me. I turned to see Finn hustling inside, his hair coated with soft flakes, his cheeks bright pink.
“Hey,” I said as he skidded to a halt just inside the door.
“Wow,” he replied, his eyes moving over me from head to toe. “You look incredible.”
He shrugged out of his coat with my help. I gave him a quick head-to-toe. “I clean up okay. So do you. Look incredible,I mean. Really sexy,” I replied and found a hanger for his winter coat. His outfit was much like mine. Slacks, a sweater over a shirt, and a dark green scarf that made his hazel eyes pop. I wanted to tell him I thought he was pretty, but that seemed a private thing. “My sister picked out my clothes.”
Thankfully, the hostess, a lovely young woman with long black hair and olive skin, appeared with two menus and a gracious smile. A true savior, she was, because Finn must have thought I was an untrained ape who couldn’t match pants with tops. That was kind of true, but still, I didn’t need to broadcast my lack of style. She led us to a round table beside a window that looked out onto a snowy veranda. Little blue fairy lights outside turned the snow a soft sapphire. I hurried to pull out a seat for Finn, who blushed prettily before taking his seat.
“The waiter will be over shortly. Kali oreksi,” she said before moving off.
“I hope you enjoy Greek food,” I said as a waiter appeared with drink menus and a lighter to spark the wick in a slim candle in the middle of the table.
“I love it,” Finn replied. We both ordered a non-alcoholic orange spritzer, then stared at each other over menus. “I really like the ambiance of this place. Also, I called my brother to ask which shirt to wear with this sweater. I was nervous.”
Hearing that lessened my embarrassment. “I was nervous too. I wanted to show you that I’m not just some violent jerk.”
“I know that.” He reached out to touch the back of my hand. “I wouldn’t have come if I didn’t think you were a good man.”
I may have puffed up a bit hearing that. “Thanks. I’m trying. So, how was school today?”
The warm smile he had been wearing faded. “It was a little stressful,” he confessed and shook his head. “But that’s not a conversation for a date. Do you want to do some appetizers? I see they have mini dolmas stuffed with lamb.” I couldn’t stopwatching his mouth as he spoke. His lips. They weresopink,sosoft. I knew what they felt like under mine, and I longed to feel those pliant—“Walker?”
“Oh, sorry, yeah, sure. Love that.” He could have ordered pickled leg of brontosaurus for all I cared. “Get whatever you want. I love Greek food.” He gave me a tilted little smile. Which, for some reason, engaged my damn mouth. “When we were kids, we had this old neighbor couple from Greece, Mr. and Mrs. Doukas. They lived right next door, and sometimes when things got intense, they would stand on their side porch and sing old Greek songs to let us know they were home. Harper and I would slip over when Dad was sleeping off the rage, and they would patch me up, feed us lots of moussaka and lamb meatballs, and baklava that would melt in your mouth.”
He reached over the table to touch the back of my hand. I felt that gentle caress all the way to my marrow. “I’m so glad you had the Doukases to comfort you in trying times.”
I nodded, uncomfortable. “That was not date talk. Sorry. I, uhm… ” I looked around the busy dining area for our waiter but couldn’t find him. Finn squeezed my hand before returning his attention to the menu. Relief washed through me. That was one thing I really liked about Finn. He knew I had a tractor-trailer load of bad shit in my past, but he never judged or pushed me to talk about it. He was just there, patient, kind, understanding, and willing to let me say what I wanted when I wanted. And that was why he had gotten the best teacher statuette.
“Well, I would love to try the lamb meatballs for starters. Someday, I would love to visit Greece. Have you ever been?”
“No. I’ve been to cold countries. The Vipers played an exhibition game in Finland last year. That was pretty cool. Got to see the Northern Lights and eat lots of fish. Like, lots of fish.” That made him chuckle. “Maybe someday we can visit Greece.”
And as soon as that fell out of my gob hole, I wished I could suck it back in. Sadly, there was no way I could. The comment floated by on a wave of warm air scented with the delicate aroma of braised pork a server was carrying past our table. “I mean, like on a tour or something. As friends who date.” He blinked. I blew out a breath. “Okay, no, not as friends who date. As men who date. Dating men. Who kiss. And like each other. Together. To Greece. In the summer when I’m not playing and school is out. That kind of thing. But if that’s too pushy, and it probably is, because I have no class when it comes to being a decent person.”
“Walker, I think a trip to Greece as men who are dating sounds wonderful. If we are still dating come summer, of course.”
