We worked naturally around the small space we had for cooking, just like we had always done at home. It wasn't a hardship to be in his company. Part of me expects anger to rise at the fact he never did these things before, but it doesn't. Instead, I concentrate on the fact he's doing it now. He's trying. He's not giving up like I thought he would, and I can't stop the damn butterflies in my stomach if I try.
I don't know if it was a coincidence that this was the dish the class taught or if Drew had requested it. Clearly, he remembered our first date more than I gave him credit for. Either way, I was going to enjoy sampling the Spaghetti Bolognaise, Spaghetti Carbonara, and Spaghetti Gorgonzola again. Hopefully, it's as good as I remember it being, even though we made it ourselves.
I mean, Mario was right there tasting as we went along, and he didn't die, so clearly, I'm a master chef now. I'm adding that shit to my resume.
“This looks so good, right?” I say, going straight for the gorgonzola, twisting the spaghetti noodles around the fork, getting that silly image of Lady and the Tramp again, just like I did last time. I can feel Drew watching me. His eyes laser-focused on my mouth as I take a big bite and moan as the flavors explode on my tongue.
"If I was wondering how it tastes, the sound you just made makes it clear as day." He shifts in his chair. Did he… Is he hard right now? I eyed him suspiciously, and an idea came to me. I twirl the pasta on my fork, and I push it in the direction of his mouth. Would he? Without a second thought, he opens and closes his lips around the spaghetti. I watch as he chews and then licks his lips clean. I follow the movement of his tongue and the bob of his throat as he swallows… fuck me, now I'm hard.
"You need to stop looking at me like that," he warns in an almost growl, but I smile at his words. Like hell, I would stop.
"I have no idea what you mean," I say, batting my eyelashes at him before taking another bite, trying the Carbonara this time, which elicits the same moan of pleasure at the taste.
"We did good, Cap. It tastes sooo good." I wink, purposely drawing out the word.
DREW
When was the last time we did this? It's sad that I can't remember the last time I sat across from this beautiful man I once called mine and just took him in. The smile on his face lights up the whole damn room, and his laugh is infectious.
How could I have let work get in the way of the pure joy I feel by just sitting with him? I've barely eaten the incredible food we made because I can't take my eyes off him.
I'd happily forgo my half of dinner to sit here and bask in his happiness, not to mention the fact he was teasing the hell out of me, and he knows it. Surely that means this date was going well, The cold, distant look he gave me when he walked out on me, is long gone and replaced with a combination of heat and playfulness.
"So, Ryan, what's your story?" I ask, trying to hide my smirk with a bite of bolognaise. He thinks I don't remember the night that changed everything for me, the night that practically turned my world upside down. Well, I'll show him I remember every damn thing about it.
Ryan practically chokes on his next bite of food as he stares wide-eyed at me, a look of nostalgia washing over his face as he settles back into his seat to sip the wine we ordered with dinner, the same wine we had that night, I think even he doesn't remember that.
"That's your line, huh?" he asks with a laugh.
"Well, Cap, I'm just a man with a dream, a drawing pencil, and a guitar."
"Tell me about that dream, Ryan. What does it look like now?" I ask, softening my tone and giving him my undivided attention. Food is once again forgotten because this is important. HE is important, and I want him to know that I'll never forget that fact again. Still, I don't want to tell him. I want to show him he's got all of me.
"Well, until a few weeks ago, I thought I was leaving a dream. But something changed. And I don't mean what happened between us," he starts but pauses and leans forward.
"I never thanked you for pushing me to do the art show. And it was something special. I think I would like to do something like that again. Don't get me wrong, I love what I'm doing, and I don't plan to quit Savage Ink. But I love the idea of creating art and helping people in need. It was rewarding, you know."
My regrets about that show will haunt me till my last breath. I didn't have the words to explain myself or to apologize for that fuck up.
"That's incredible Sweethe... Ryan" The term of endearment slipped out so easily, but I managed to pull it back. I don't think he's ready to hear that yet, and I'm not about to ruin this moment.
"You could always put on an art show of your work at the parlor. I bet the guys would love to get in on that, and you know I'll help wherever I can. Just don't ask me to draw. I doubt stick figures are a commodity in the art world." We both laughed at that. The offer of help was probably premature, but I wanted to put it out there anyway.
"That's… Actually, it's a great idea. I'll talk to the guys about it. Maybe Gavin will offer the shop for it." His enthusiasm for the idea brought me a bigger smile than the filthy sounds he made while eating. This really does just prove that all he wants is my time and attention. I was foolish to think that the bonuses and the pay raise I got for making Partner would satisfy him.
I don't register his movements until his hand stretches across the table to lightly take mine.
"Thank you, Drew, it really is a great idea, and who knows, maybe stick figures are in right now, and if not, I bet you could draw a very detailed dick and balls." He suggests, making me bark out a laugh as my fingers intertwine with his.
That small connection sets my whole body alight. I softly drag my thumb over the back of his hand, hoping to keep this connection for the rest of the meal. I can absolutely eat and drink one-handed.
CHAPTER 12
RYAN
I’m not sure what I expected when I met with Drew tonight, but no matter what my expectations were, tonight has blown them all out of the water. Not only did we return to this quaint little Italian restaurant where we shared our first meal, and that alone would have been romantic enough, but he made a whole experience out of it.
It's like he understands that I need him to put more than just money into this. I need his time and his attention, and tonight was all of that.
