Troy picks up the menu. Scans it. "What's good?"
"The nachos."
"Nachos aren't really dinner."
"They're what I get."
Troy shrugs, the kind of shrug that says he's already decided Nicholas is a little weird but he's hot enough to compensate. "I'll get a burger. And a Bud Light."
"We don't have Bud Light," Jason says from behind the bar. His voice is perfectly neutral. "I can get you a local lager."
"Whatever's cheapest."
Jason pours it. Brings it over with the professional detachment of someone who is absolutely going to have opinions about this later. Troy doesn't tip on the single beer. Doesn't say thank you. Jason's jaw tightens a fraction and he retreats behind the bar.
I should stop watching. This is none of my business. Nicholas is a grown man who can date whoever he wants, including a guy who didn't tip and hasn't asked him a real question yet.
I'm not minding my own business.
Troy is talking about himself. I can hear every word — shifter hearing doesn't come with an off switch — and it's a monologue. His job in construction, his truck, a gym he just joined, a buddy who has a lake house. Nicholas listens with professional patience. Nods at the right moments. Asks a follow-up question that Troy steamrolls past to get to his next point.
Nicholas sips his IPA. Watches Troy the way he watches everything — quiet, assessing. He's not having a bad time, exactly. He's having no time at all. He's absent from this date in a way that Troy is too busy talking about himself to notice.
"So what do you do?" Troy asks, about twelve minutes in. First question he's aimed at Nicholas.
"Property acquisitions. I travel a lot for work."
"Cool, cool. Like flipping houses?"
"Not exactly."
"My buddy flips houses. Makes a killing. I keep telling him I should get in on it but you need capital, you know?"
"You do."
"So you're just in town for work? How long?"
"Not sure yet."
Troy grins. Leans forward. "Well, I'm glad you're here. When I saw your profile I was like, damn, finally someone worth driving out here for."
Nicholas's expression doesn't change. "Thanks."
"That Miami pic? Dude." Troy shakes his head appreciatively. "I almost didn't believe it was real."
"It's real."
"I can tell." Troy's eyes drop, not subtle about it, the full slow once-over. "You look even better in person."
I'm going to break this laptop.
My hands are too tight on the keys. I make myself relax them, one finger at a time. This is none of my business. This is absolutely none of my business. Nicholas is a grown man who can date whoever he wants, including a guy who didn't tip and hasn't asked him a real question yet.
Knox comes down from upstairs. Reads the room in two seconds — the date in the booth, my rigid posture at the bar, Jason's careful neutrality. He pours himself a water and sits next to me.
"Don't," he says quietly.
"I'm not doing anything."
