That explained why it was only Jack in the office today. “Bit cold for that, isn’t it?”
“That’s what I thought. It was almost as if he were waiting for someone. Anyway, not great news on that front.”
“Did he tell you to fuck off?”
“Among other things. He’s got a foul mouth for such a pretty boy.”
“The foul part is right.”
“Yeah, well.” Hunter scrubbed the back of his head and casually locked his fingers together. “He’s not ready to talk. It’s more than the arm and fear that’s hurting him, I think. Can’t push that.”
Mitch set our drinks down and scouted the booth for seats, but nothing was free.
Hunter slapped his lap. “You can sit here if you like.”
Mitch grinned and made the corners of his eyes crinkle. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
I picked up my drink and sipped. Sweet and smoky.
Hunter snagged Mitch’s fingers and drew him forward one step. “Yeah, and I’d like it even more if it came with an answer.”
Mitch’s Adam’s apple bobbed. “What answer?”
“Why didn’t you show up the other week?”
Mitch and I stared at his and Hunter’s entwined fingers. Such a simple touch, yet it made their faces glow like the New York City skyline.
“I’m sorry. I”—he glanced uncomfortably at everyone around the table—“I’m really sorry.”
Hunter played with Mitch’s fingers, looking into his eyes. “Look, you can talk to me okay? I know things aren’t ideal. I expect there to be issues. Just let me know what they are, okay?”
“Okay.”
“Lean in, I have something else to tell you.”
With a curious frown, Mitch leaned in. Hunter cupped a hand behind his neck and drew him closer still, as if to whisper in his ear. His lips brushed against Mitch’s jaw, then swiftly to his mouth. Their kiss wasn’t delicate in the least. Hunter locked him into a tongue party that had Mitch moaning and crumpling toward his lap.
With a murmured laugh, Hunter slapped Mitch’s ass and pulled back. “More of that on Saturday, after a date. What do you say?”
Mitch gulped and nodded, touching his ass in wonder. “I mean, no, I can’t.”
Hunter stilled his hands on the arm of his chair and a strange desire to pat him came over me, but I reined it in.
“Wait, this is coming out wrong,” Mitch said. “I’m leaving for home at the end of the week. My sister is getting married, and since Thanksgiving is next week, I’m taking the whole week off.” He bit his bottom lip as he continued, but I got the feeling therewasn’t much enthusiasm behind his next words. “Will you maybe come to the opening party of the 32ndfloor of the Cathedral of Learning? With me? As a date?”
Hunter needled a finger into one of the netted holes of Mitch’s T-shirt and drew him in again. “You betcha,” he said with one last nip at his lips.
Mitch floated back to his position behind the bar, and Hunter drank his lemonade with the most enthusiasm I’d seen yet. I snuck a sip to make sure it hadn’t been spiked. Nope, unless plain ol’ good mood counted.
When we twisted and turned and rolled our way out of the bar, he asked about my work and the article I was intending to write for the chief.
“Sounds okay,” he said, unlocking the van.
“Just okay?”
“I mean, I’ve read your work. You’ll make it awesome.”
Once we were settled and strapped into the van, Hunter rested his arms on the steering wheel and looked over at me. “I just—”
