“I heard you tellin’ Reilly that you were tryin’ to change shifts.”
“Oh.” His eyebrows remained angled downward. “You were listening?”
“I’ve listened to nearly everything you’ve said for the past two years.”
“Really?”
“Why so surprised?”
Tate shrugged.
“Did you? Get it changed?”
“Yeah,” Tate answered. “Finally. I’m workin’ twenty-four-hour shifts on Tuesdays, and I alternate between twelve and twenty-four every other week on Thursdays and Fridays.”
“So you’re free on weekends? For the most part, right?”
“I usually sleep most of Saturday, but yeah.”
Donovan continued to watch him. He could’ve watched the man all day. He was fascinated by Tate; there was no denying that.
“Am I movin’ too fast for you?” he asked, trying to figure out why Tate was so quiet.
“No.”
“Then you mind tellin’ me what’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” Tate’s eyebrows rose when Donovan continued to stare. “Seriously.”
“Not buyin’ it.”
“Fine.” Tate exhaled roughly. “I’m surprised you wanted to go out with me.”
“Because you’re so good in bed, that’s the only place I should keep you?”
Tate barked a laugh, clearly taken aback by the question. “Of course not.”
“You’ve known me for a long time, Tate. I’m a pretty sociable guy, right?”
“Yeah.”
“I don’t spend a lot of time at home. But if it bothers you that I want to take you out, just—”
“It doesn’t.” Tate smiled, and this time, it was shy. “This is nice. I just wasn’t expecting it.”
“Which is why you ran away this mornin’. We’re past that.” Donovan leaned forward again, this time reaching for Tate’s hand. “I’m not in the closet, and I haven’t been for a long damn time. You haven’t been either.”
Tate continued to watch him.
“So what do you say we enjoy this?”
“Okay.”
Donovan nodded and released Tate’s hand before grabbing his water glass.
“Oh, and you should know. Tomorrow, when we go to my parents’ house for dinner, you’ll bemydate. Not Reilly’s.”
This time, the smile on Tate’s face was radiant, and Donovan felt the man relax.
