Ezra’s gaze drifted up to meet his briefly and he said with caution, “What do you mean?”
“I mean, what if you and I had met under different circumstances?”
“That’s highly improbable. We have very different interests.”
Roman didn’t like that at all, nor did he think it was altogether true. “But we have a lot of common interests now. Like Risk and sci-fi and hanging out around the house.”
“And football,” Ezra added. He’d taken an interest in Roman’s fantasy football team, memorizing his players’ stats and paying attention to how the teams did in their NFL games so he could advise Roman on his trades.
Roman tried again. “So, let’s say that we met in my beignet shop, and I approached you and asked you out on a date, what would you say?”
Ezra swallowed and stared at Roman intently, mapping his face and the breadth of his shoulders in his careful, measured way. “Well, you are very handsome,” he admitted, neck flushing.
“Thank you. You’re a real cutie pie too.” He’d always thought Ezra was cute but lately, he’d become downright devastating. “So?”
“If I met you in your beignet shop and you asked me out on a date, I would probably say no, because I wouldn’t know you at all. But now I’m your housekeeper and your friend, and I know you very well, so if were possible to time travel between then and now, I would go back and tell my beignet self to say yes.”
Roman sat back, pleased by what sounded like an affirmation.
“But present-day me likes being your housekeeper and your friend, and I wouldn’t want to give that up, which makes this a real conundrum, not to mention that if you hadn’t offered me employment, I might not have been able to stay in New Orleans at all, which is an example of one of the great paradoxes of time travel.”
“Yes, it is,” Roman agreed, though to which part, he wasn’t exactly sure. Regardless, Ezra had highlighted that their relationship had evolved from where it began, and Roman wanted it to evolve even more, but he wasn’t sure if Ezra wanted that too. And if he did, how could it be accomplished with them living together and Roman paying his wages?
Ezra took up his menu then, one that was special for him (even though he didn’t yet know it), and Roman watched him closely. To his shock and horror, Ezra’s smile collapsed, his lower lip trembled, and his eyes started to fill with tears. Then he ducked behind the menu, so that Roman couldn’t see him at all.
“Ezra, what’s wrong?”
He saw the top of his brown-haired head swivel slowly back and forth. Julie approached with their drinks and Roman pointed at the table for her to drop them off and give them a moment of privacy.
“Ezra?”
“I’m processing my emotions,” came his muffled reply.
Roman nodded and sat back, waiting for Ezra to finish. At last, the menu came down and Ezra sat up straighter, touching the leather binder with a gentle reverence.
“You did this for me?” he said quietly.
Roman smiled and squeezed Ezra’s hand. “Now you have all the things you like on one menu.”
Ezra stared at him, directly into his eyes with unflinching attention, while tears collected on his lashes like dew drops. “You’re nicer to me than anyone I’ve ever known, except for my mom.”
“I care about you, Ezra. And I want to make you happy.” Roman wanted to feed him and hold him and drag him into his bedroom and lock the door behind them. Hoard the man all to himself. He wanted to show Ezra pleasure like he’d never known and erase the memory of that high school prick who’d made him feel small and insecure because he’d asked a few questions about something he’d never done before. Roman was getting angry again. “Do you know what you want to order?”
Ezra shook his head and sighed, a little forlornly. “I want to try everything, but I can’t possibly eat it all at once. I’ll explode.”
“Well, we can get a small sampling of each item now. Or we can keep coming back until you’ve tried everything on the menu.”
Ezra’s expression brightened. He blinked until the moisture cleared from his pretty, brown eyes. “In that case I’ll have the meatballs with no sauce and the plain pasta with butter.”
Roman smiled. “Excellent choice.”
Later that night they started another episode ofThe Mandalorian, which Ezra had already seen but Roman had not. Ezra fell asleep at 10:15 p.m. with his head pillowed by Roman’s chest. His long lashes fanned out across his pink cheeks and his mouth was slightly open. Roman pulled him closer and sifted one hand through his soft waves of hair. He placed a gentle kiss on Ezra’s temple and felt a deep sense of contentment.
He liked the man he was with Ezra—open, soft, vulnerable. He knew Ezra wouldn’t take advantage of his generosity or manipulate him as his past lovers had done. That trust lowered Roman’s defenses and allowed him to achieve intimacy in a way he never had before. And while it was true that they were friends, Roman knew that his feelings for Ezra were too possessive to be only that.
Roman wished to pursue this deepening connection with the same ambition and drive that he applied to his football career and then later, his business ventures. But to rush Ezra or try to adapt him to his own schedule would be a grave mistake, so Roman resolved then and there to let their relationship unfold according to Ezra’s timeline. And when Ezra caught up to him a little bit farther down the road, he’d be there waiting. Ready.
10
