“The rubber suit and musk of excessive manliness might have had an impact too,” Nate said. He rolled his eyes at whatever look Flynn gave him, and a rueful smile curved his lips. “I know, I know. I like sailors. I’m a cliché. Don’t rub it in.”
The tomato had apparently suffered enough. Nate stabbed it and popped it into his mouth. Maybe it was the airy way he dismissed their attraction—even though Flynn had done it first—or that he’d lumped Flynn in under the catchall of “sailors.” Either way it bugged Flynn enough that he had to wash it down with a gulp of beer.
“If it helps, I wasn’t always a lifeguard,” he said. “I used to be in the army.”
It was a fairly prosaic statement, but it was only the second time Flynn had told someone on the island that bit of information. The first had been his dad, and the old man wasn’t impressed. No one else on Ceremony cared enough to ask. They’d rather make up their own stories, and Flynn didn’t care what they thought he’d done.
Apparently hedidcare what Nate thought—that or watching Nate choke on a tomato from surprise would be bizarrely satisfying.
“Fuck.” Nate coughed and blinked tears out of his eyes. He took a gulp of beer and narrowed his eyes at Flynn suspiciously. “Are you screwing with me?”
Flynn dipped a chip in the cheese. “Nope.” He was the one who brought it up, but it was a whim he regretted. He braced himself for questions he didn’t like having to answer even in his own head—like why he left the army, if he missed it, if—
“Do you still have the outfit?”
That wasn’t one of the questions he expected. Flynn took a bite off a chip and gave Nate a curious look. “The uniform? No, I never saw the point of hauling it around with me.”
“Shame.” Nate took two deep gulps of his beer and set the glass down. He raised his eyebrows at Flynn. Unlike his hair they were dark and gray-free. “Do you wanna make out?”
It was Flynn’s turn to choke as the chip went down the wrong way. “What?”
Nate smirked over the table. “Serves you right.”
“So you were kidding?”
“No. I meant it,” Nate said. He set the pint glass down and stood up. His jacket was slung over the back of the chair, and he picked it up to shrug it on. “It still serves you right. So, do you want to take advantage of me or not?”
The chili wasn’t the most tempting thing on the menu anymore. Flynn drained his beer and stood up. He leaned over and curled his hand around Nate’s neck as he leaned in.
“In that case, you can pay for dinner,” he growled against warm skin. His lips grazed the skin. The taste of alcohol and cologne were sharp against his tongue, and he felt the muscles move as Nate gulped. “And I can take advantage twice.”
