Not daring to look back at him, I keep my body tilted to the side to face Mario as he begins his food safety speech and explains how those with long hair need to wear hair nets and we should all wash our hands after every step of the process.
He passes the little packets of hair nets down the line, and I can't help but stifle a laugh as Ryan tries and fails to stuff all that delicious dark hair into the net stretched over his head.
Reaching into my pocket, I pull out a hair tie and hand it to him with a shy smile of my own. I figured he might need this, and since he didn't know what we were doing tonight, he wouldn't have known to bring one.
Finally daring to meet his eyes, I look over at him as he takes the elastic and quickly steps back from the table to secure his hair and put on the hideous white mesh hair net.
"You look…professional," I say before laughing. I was trying so hard to hold back, but it just bubbles right out between us. "And sexy as fuck." I added only for him to hear. If finding him sexy in a hair net is not a sign of love, I don't know what is.
Mario clears his throat to get the group's attention and smiles widely at us all before loudly clapping his hands.
CHAPTER 11
2 years ago
RYAN
I love performing, but fuck it makes me hungry, although the sexy man walking beside me makes me hungry for something other than food. I could feel Drew's eyes on me the whole time while he sat in his usual booth near the back of the bar, sipping a glass of his favorite whiskey. His gaze never faltered, and although I gave the crowd my attention, I couldn't deny I spent most of the set swinging my eyes back to him.
He's wearing a suit again. Maybe the guy doesn't own any casual clothes, or perhaps he just wears suits all day, every day, in case there is some lawyer emergency, and he needs to appear in court at a moment's notice. Not that I'm complaining, he looks good, really fucking good.
I felt all giddy when I spotted him walking inside, looking like he was trying to pluck up the courage to talk to me. This man who gives off all kinds of Big Dick Energy vibe was nervous because of little ol' me.
If only he knew how often I had gotten off on the memories of what we did in the hallway to his apartment a week ago. Shit, had it only been a week? Maybe we'd make some new spank bank material if I was lucky.
We walk side by side down the busy streets of downtown Denver. I can still feel the sweat from the stage lights cooling on my skin. We search for somewhere to stop and eat that doesn't smell like a dumpster. Grabbing his arm, I pull him to a stop outside a little Italian restaurant. It smells incredible, and it looks quiet enough inside that we'll be able to get a table.
"Let's go," I grin, tugging him inside, and we wait at the hostess stand.
"You know this place?" Drew asks with apprehension written all over his face.
"Why? You're wondering about the food or if I've actually been here before with someone else?" I ask back curiously. I might like the idea of him being jealous, Maybe a little possessive. Damn, that would be sexy. Wait, what the fuck is wrong with me? Why am I getting hard for red flags?
"Well, the smell is promising, so I have little doubt about the food, but out of curiosity, have you?" He raises his eyebrow while trying to look cool. "Been here? With someone else, I mean."
"No, Cap," I answer without hesitation. "I'm not the dating type." Fuck. Why did I say that? I am so the dating type. I just haven't dated anybody in a really long time. Clearly, I suck at it.
Daring a glance back at him to gauge his reaction to that blatant lie, I'm met with a teasing smirk on his face, like he knows I was talking out of my ass just then. "If that's what you're trying to tell yourself."
"Table for two?" The hostess interrupts our little exchange. Drew agrees, and she takes us to our table, leaving us alone after we ordered a platter of different types of spaghetti to share, like some kind of Lady and the Tramp shit. The thought of us recreating the spaghetti scene makes me smile. I'm such a dork.
"So, Ryan, what's your story?" I look over at him with disbelief and amusement.
"That's your line?" I asked with a laugh. He joined me. "Well, Cap, I'm just a man with a dream, a sketchbook, and a guitar."
To my surprise, he seemed genuinely interested in it. He asks questions about my art. He was surprised when he learned I have a day job at Savage Ink and says his skin is as clear as a newborn's, and he has no plan to change it. Maybe I could change his mind someday and convince him to let me mark him permanently. Wait, what? Permanently? Since when did I think of anybody as permanent? Shit, this is not the time to have an internal crisis.
I listen intently as he lays out his career plans and how he wants to become Partner in the law firm. He's working at as soon as possible, which means a lot of hard work now but less in the future. I mean, I know nothing about corporate law, but I'm enamored by how passionate and driven he is.
I've seen the hot, unhinged side of Drew, the sweet, nervous side, and now I can see the love for his job and his career. How dare he be so perfect.
It hits me then that no matter how many times I tell myself that all I want is a hookup, it's a damn lie. I want Andrew Cliffer to be mine. If anybody is worth settling down for, it's him.
RYAN
Sitting across from a now slightly more ruffled-looking Drew at the same small table we sat at two years ago. I watch as he lays the platter of spaghetti in the center of the table, bending at the waist like a server but offering me a salacious grin at the same time.
The last forty-five minutes, while we followed Mario's instructions, we didn't have much time to talk, but we didn't have to.
