Jasper’s smile warmed. “You look like you planned this down to the minute.”
“I did.”
“I know.”
They were seated quickly. Wine was offered. Bennett declined automatically, then reconsidered.
“One glass,” he said.
Jasper lifted his eyebrows. “Bold.”
“Don’t comment,” Bennett replied.
Jasper smiled into his menu.
Conversation came easily, which unsettled Bennett more than tension would have. They talked about work, yes, but also about things that had nothing to do with deliverables. Books. Travel. The places Jasper loved and the ones Bennett had never considered visiting because they did not fit neatly into a schedule.
“You don’t do spontaneity,” Jasper said.
“I do it,” Bennett replied. “I just resent it.”
Jasper laughed. “That tracks.”
There were moments when Bennett caught other people looking at them. Not staring. Just noticing. Two men at dinner, leaning in, engaged.
It should not have mattered.
It did.
Bennett felt the awareness like a low hum under his skin. He did not pull away. He did not correct anything.
Jasper noticed. Of course he did.
“You are doing okay,” Jasper said quietly, when their plates were cleared.
“Yes,” Bennett replied. “I’m aware of what you are asking.”
“I didn’t ask anything,” Jasper said.
“You asked by existing,” Bennett said. “Openly.”
Jasper considered that. “Is that a problem?”
Bennett thought about it honestly. The flickers of anxiety. The weight of being seen.
Then he thought about the alternative.
“No,” he said. “It’s just new.”
Jasper’s gaze softened. “We can go at your pace.”
“I know,” Bennett replied. “But I don’t want to pretend this doesn’t exist when we step outside.”
Jasper stilled. “Bennett.”
Bennett’s chest tightened. “I am not ready to announce anything. But I am not going to hide you.”
Jasper searched his face, careful and intent. “That matters.”
