Rick didn’t smile. “Because I want to know you got in okay.”
Allen held his gaze for a moment, then nodded. “Alright.”
Rick watched him walk to his door, watched him unlock it and go inside. He stood there until Allen’s light flicked on in a front room window, then he turned and walked back to his car. He got in, started it, and then sat there.
His phone buzzed, and Rick saw the message from Allen.I’m in. Night.
Rick stared at it then he typed back.Night.
He put the phone down and let his mind drift where it wanted to. The police were still chasing the story, and Allen was still talking to him. Everything was fine for now. Rick exhaled slowly and pulled away from the curb.
Chapter Eight
Allen told himself to stop being an idiot. He’d dated before. He’d done the early spark, the messaging, the anticipation. He’d also done the part where it turned out the man only liked the chase, or just the sex, and once the novelty wore off, so had they, and Allen ended up hurt and alone.
Rick didn’t seem like that so far, and that was what kept throwing Allen off. It wasn’t constant messages or anything forced. It was the normal messages that made Allen think Rick actually wanted to know how he was. Rick asked how his shift went, whether his friends were still being idiots, what Allen ate, what he was watching, and he remembered the details in a way Allen wasn’t used to anyone remembering.
By Tuesday, Allen had caught himself smiling at his screen while pretending to read an email from a customer. By Wednesday, he was replaying the date in his head at the worst times, like the moment Rick had walked him home or the wayhe’d asked Allen to message when he was inside, even though he’d walked Allen to his front door.
It was simple, but it had made Allen feel as if someone cared about him, and that feeling stayed with him all week.
He knew he should be cautious. He wasn’t naïve or stupid. He was twenty-two and Rick was forty, and Rick had a whole past that Allen had only seen in fragments on screens and in old interviews. Even now, there were moments where Allen caught the faint edge of something that felt almost managed, as if Rick was used to watching a room and reading people and deciding how to be perceived. That should have put Allen on guard, but he knew it came from what Rick had been, and he tried not to take it personally.
Thursday afternoon, Rick’s message came while Allen was halfway through a call with a man who was furious about a bill and refusing to listen. Allen kept his voice calm and finished the call, then checked his phone as soon as he could.
Dinner Friday?
Allen read it three times before he replied because of how happy and excited he was that Rick had asked him out again. He typed his response and tried to keep it casual.
Yeah. Where?
Rick’s reply came back quickly.I’ll pick you up. 7 again?
Allen stared at it for a second, his pulse picking up. Rick was going to pick him up as if it was normal, and it was, but Allen didn’t think he was the kind of person someone like Rick did that for. “Stop it,” he muttered. “Enjoy it while he’s interested.” Before he could overthink it, he sent his response.
Okay.
Less than a minute later, Rick’s message came through.Good.
Friday dragged, even though it should have been the fastest day of the week. Allen got through his shift, went home, andthen spent far too long choosing what to wear for someone he’d met in a café. He changed his shirt twice, then cleaned the kitchen counter and made his bed as if Rick might see it. Allen snorted at his own behavior, but double-checked to make sure his apartment was clean.
By 6:55, Allen was at the window watching the street, and annoyed with himself for doing it, but he didn’t move away. When a dark car finally pulled up, he felt his stomach flip. He swallowed, grabbed his jacket, and forced himself to walk down the stairs like a normal person.
Rick was already outside the car when Allen stepped onto the sidewalk, tall and solid in the cold air, black coat buttoned, hands shoved into his pockets. He smiled when he saw Allen, and Allen had to bite his lip to stop himself from turning around and running back inside.
“Hey,” Rick said.
“Hey,” Allen managed, hoping his voice sounded normal.
Rick looked him over once, then his gaze caught on Allen’s collar. “You’re cold.”
“I’m fine,” Allen said with a shrug.
Rick stepped closer and tugged Allen’s collar up, his fingers brushing the side of his neck in a way that made Allen go still. The touch was simple, almost casual, but it felt deliberate. Allen wasn’t sure if it should bother him, but found it didn’t.
“You’ll freeze in that,” Rick said.
“It’s a jacket,” Allen muttered, and Rick’s mouth twitched.
