17. Tristan
Quinn: Be ready for 5. Dress code is business casual.
I re-read the text Quinn had sent last night, even though I’d already read it a dozen times since I woke up.
The last three weeks had been a whirlwind of long workdays, hanging out with Leo, and chatting with Quinn whenever we managed to find a few spare moments.
We hadn’t gotten to see much of each other because we were both so busy, and our schedules didn’t always match up.
I was still putting in extra time at work because they hadn’t bothered to replace Eric. One of my coworkers, Stephanie, had floated the idea that they weren’t even looking for a replacement because she hadn’t been able to find a job listing advertising the opening, and a friend of hers who’d contacted management inquiring about the job had been told they’d take her information, but wouldn’t confirm if they were looking to fill a vacancy.
We’d also found out that the coworker I’d covered for last weekend had been put on bed rest. That left another hole in our schedule that management had filled with a revolving door of vets from their other clinics, which helped us cover the hours but did nothing to alleviate the other issues that came with being short-staffed.
Quinn was also working more than was healthy. He put in full days alongside his crew, then spent hours in the evenings and a good chunk of his weekends taking care of the administrative side of running a business. On top of that, he was still making content and doing the occasional shift at the club.
We were both stressed out and exhausted, and I’d been looking forward to our date tonight all week.
I was about to put my phone down so I could pick what I was going to wear when it pinged with a text. I glanced at the screen and the photo he’d sent. My heart skipped a beat.
A few weeks ago, he’d started sending me what he called the Quinn version of whatever photos he posted on his social media. The pics he took for work were full of ab shots and cocky grins. The ones I got were completely different.
Those were sensual and sexy in their own right, but it was his soft smiles and the teasing clothing lifts that showed only a few inches of skin that made them all the more special.
He’d picked up how I preferred mystery to nudity, and it made me ridiculously giddy to know I was the only one who got these custom photos. His fans might lust after the image of himself he’d created for them, but I was the only one who got to see the real him. The only one he wanted to be with.
This photo was no different. He’d taken it in his bathroom, the steamy air billowing around him and his hair and skin dripping from his shower. A bright yellow towel was tied around his waist, showing off his incredible physique, but the thing I couldn’t look away from wasn’t his washboard abs or the impressive dick print in the towel. It was his shy smile and the softness in his expression.
I saved the photo, then sent back a row of the ‘hot’ emoji, the one where the face was red and sweating.
Quinn: Let me see that gorgeous face of yours.
Asking for a pic in return was something he’d started doing too. I still couldn’t wrap my brain around the idea of sending him random pics of myself, even though he’d told me multiple times he wanted them.
The last time I’d dated was in the era when people used digital cameras, and texting photos wasn’t included in most phone plans. I’d never sent anyone pictures of myself as a form of flirting, and I had no clue how to pose without looking like I was getting my photo done at the DMV. But even with my awkwardness, Quinn liked them, and that had done more for my confidence than he would ever know.
Turning so I was facing my full-length mirror, I opened the camera and snapped a bunch of pics, then flipped through them to find the best one.
He replied with a line of hot emoji and a few of the water drops.
Quinn: Can’t wait to see you tonight
Tristan: Me too. I’ve been looking forward to it all week
Quinn: me too
Tristan: are you going to tell me where we’re going?
Quinn: nope
Quinn: that would negate the whole surprise aspect of the date
Tristan: when you say business casual, does that mean work business casual or social event business casual?
Quinn: it means not jeans and not a full suit
Tristan: that doesn’t narrow it down as much as you think it does
Quinn: you’re overthinking things again Doc
Tristan: that’s my vibe, or have you forgotten?
Quinn: lol I haven’t forgotten. Don’t worry too much about what you wear. Tonight isn’t about fashion, it’s about celebrating the end of a long as fuck week and enjoying the little time we have together
Tristan: okay. No jeans and not a full suit. Got it
Tristan: I take it you managed to get a workout in?
Quinn: yup, finished up about 20 minutes ago
Quinn:I wish I could say I’m texting you in only a towel, but it’s cold in my room so I’m currently wearing my blanket hoodie and a pair of pizza space cat pants
Tristan: pizza space cat pants? Those sound like the best thing ever
A new photo loaded, then another. The first was a grinning Quinn in a baby blue hoodie made of what looked like the same material as the Sherpa blankets I had piled up all over the house. The next was a close-up of the pattern on his pajama pants.
I enlarged the picture to take a closer look. On them were cartoon cats sitting on slices of pizza with a galaxy background, making it look like the cats were riding the pizza slices in space.
Tristan: those are the best things I’ve ever seen
Quinn: I love them. I used to have a matching sweater but I have no idea where it ended up. I know I packed it, but it’s not in any of the boxes I’ve gone through
Tristan: maybe it’s in one you haven’t opened?
Quinn: that’s possible. I’ve unpacked all the ones that had clothes on the label, but I found my missing turkey pan in a box labeled sheets and towels and my spice rack in the same box as a bunch of old paperwork I need to sort through so who knows where I put it
Quinn: I’ll let you get back to whatever you were doing, but I’ll see you in a few hours.
Tristan: see you then
He added a kissy face emoji. Feeling way giddier than I should, I sent one back.
Tucking my phone away, I returned my attention to my closet. Not counting the wedding, I hadn’t gone on a date since before I was married. And I didn’t count the wedding because it might have ended as a real date, but it started as a ploy to piss Simon off.
Not thinking too hard about my choices, I pulled a pair of black slacks and a blue shirt that matched my eyes off the rack. Should I wear a tie? I glanced at my tie rack. I wasn’t a fan of ties because they felt restrictive and like I was being strangled all day. Nope, I wasn’t going to wear one if I didn’t have to.
Once I had my clothes laid out on my bed, I triple-checked to make sure Koda wasn’t hiding in my room, then went into my bathroom to take a shower.
The doorbell rang at exactly five, setting off a series of barks as both dogs let me know someone was at the door.
Freddie came bounding into the foyer, then dropped to his butt and slid to a stop a few feet away.
“Down,” I commanded, not wanting to repeat what happened the last time Quinn came over.
He gave me a big doggy grin and lay down.
“Good boy.” Pulling in a deep breath, I opened the door.
Quinn stood on my porch looking like a fantasy brought to life. His black slacks and lavender button-up were perfectly tailored to him and looked incredible with his coloring, but it was the bouquet of flowers in his hand that made my breath catch.
“They’re artificial.” He extended the flowers to me. “I know most flowers are toxic to pets, so I figured this was a good way to bring you flowers without endangering anyone.”
“Thank you,” I said, my voice thick with emotion, and took the bouquet. “They’re beautiful.”
“I know yellow roses are supposed to symbolize friendship, but you mentioned they were your favorite, so I thought they’d still work for our date.”
I swallowed the lump in my throat. “I love them. Thank you.”
I’d never gotten flowers before, but I hadn’t told Quinn that. It meant everything that he’d picked these out with so much care and consideration.
“Do I have time to put these in a vase?”
“Definitely.” He looked around me. “Hey, Freddie. Have you made good choices today?”
I glanced behind me just in time to see Freddie put one paw over his eyes in a classic shame pose.
“Please tell me that wasn’t just a coincidence, and he did something he shouldn’t have today,” Quinn said, his eyes bright with laughter.
“He knocked the spare roll of toilet paper on the shelf onto the floor so Jinx and Shadow could shred it and scatter the remains around the house while I was getting dressed. I’d say that wasn’t his best decision.”
He rolled his lips inward to cover his grin, but the effect was ruined by a little snort-laugh he couldn’t contain.
“I’ll be right back. And keep an eye out for Maple. Black slacks are like a personal challenge for her. She likes to do sneak attacks and run up to you, rub against your leg, then take off before you know what happened.”
“I’ll keep my eyes peeled.”
Leaving Quinn with Freddie, I dug a vase out of the top shelf of my cupboards. I put the bouquet in my office, then closed the door to keep them safe from curious eyes and mouths.
When I came back into the foyer, Quinn was petting Maple with one hand and Freddie with the other as they sat on either side of him like sentries.
“All ready?” he asked, giving me another of his million-watt grins.
I nodded, not quite trusting my voice.
All my pets had taken to Quinn, but they were my rescue success stories. Maple was the exception, and it usually took her a long time to even come out of hiding around new people. She was a sweet girl, but she’d been through a lot in her life, and it made her wary of everyone. But she adored Quinn and had taken to him right away.
Well, that made two of us.
“All set.” Quinn stood and brushed fur off his hands. “You look amazing.”
Maple took off and disappeared into the kitchen. Freddie whined at the loss of attention and shuffled closer to Quinn.
“Thanks.” I flushed hot at his appreciative look. “You do too. We should go before the others realize they missed out on pets,” I said, surprised the rest of the crew hadn’t bothered to come to the door to check things out.
That was a sign that they thought of Quinn as a member of the family, and him coming to the door wasn’t exciting or worth getting up from their naps for.
Quinn opened the door for me.
“Are you going to tell me where we’re going now?” I asked when I’d finished locking up.
“Nope.” He took my hand and led me toward his driveway.
“Not even a hint?”
“Okay, one hint.” He paused dramatically. “We’re going to Seattle.”
“Seattle?”
The city was an hour away, and I went there all the time to shop or attend social things. I liked the idea of doing our date there, not just because there were more options of stuff to do, but also because it was a liberal city and no one would look twice at two men out on a date. And the anonymity of being in a big city would help me relax so I didn’t spend the entire night looking over my shoulder for Simon or one of his many contacts.
The last thing I needed was another hissy fit letter showing up at my work, berating me for daring to go on a date with my boyfriend and enjoy my life.
“Yup. But the rest of the evening is a surprise.” He opened the passenger door for me. “Deal?”
“Deal.” I got into the car, trying—and failing—to not grin like an idiot when he closed the door behind me.
The drive to the city was quick, even with it being so close to dinner. We started off talking about our days, which evolved into another one of our epic conversations that bounced from topic to topic but always seemed to circle back, so neither of us got lost along the way.
That was one thing I loved about talking with Quinn. He was smart and constantly taught me new things, but he was also one of the few people who never had trouble following my train of thought when I went on random tangents. He listened to my infodumps and never made me feel like I was taking up too much space or that my enthusiasm was annoying. And I never had to censor myself or hold back around him out of fear that he’d judge me or use what I said against me later.
After reaching the city, he drove us downtown and parked near the waterfront.
“Are you hungry?” Quinn asked when he’d shut down his car. “Because part one is dinner.”
“Part one?”
He nodded, that sexy smirk-smile curling the corners of his mouth. “Hungry, yay or nay?”
“Yay.” I fell into step beside him as he led me down the street.
“Kristof’s?” I looked between him and the restaurant he’d stopped in front of.
“You said you’ve wanted to go for years. I’ve always wanted to give it a try too.”
“But how did you get a reservation? They book out months in advance.”
“Nick’s boyfriend knows the owner and got us bumped to the top of the list.” He pulled the door open.
“Evan?”
He nodded and followed me inside the dark restaurant. “Yup. He knows pretty much everyone. And if he doesn’t, he knows someone who does.”
“Welcome to Kristof’s,” a perky hostess said from behind her podium. “Can I have your names?”
“Quinn Reynolds and Tristan Winters.”
She looked down at her tablet, then beamed another smile at us. “Right this way.”
We followed her down a short hallway that separated the dining area from the entrance, then into a dim dining room. Bypassing the already crowded tables, the hostess brought us to a back room that had a handful of private booths in it.
“Here we are.” She brought us to a booth in the back corner and waited as we sat. “Your host tonight is Anthony.” She handed us each a tablet. “If you could take a moment and choose your menu, he’ll be by with your drinks and an introduction when you’re ready.”
She gave us another beaming smile, then left us with our menus.
Woodenly, I pressed the home button on the tablet to wake it up.
“You okay?” Quinn asked. “You seem off.”
“Yeah. Just a bit in shock. I never thought I’d actually get to eat here, and now I’m here.”
He grinned. “I’m glad I could make it happen for you. And I can’t think of anything more fun than coming to a molecular gastronomy restaurant with a scientist.” He wiggled his tablet. “Do you know which menu you’d like? Unfortunately they need a month’s notice for the custom menu, otherwise I could have given you the full experience.”
Kristof’s was famous not only for their innovation in molecular gastronomy but also because they offered a fully immersive option where the table was assigned a host, or server, who explained the creation process and inspiration for each dish as they brought them out. And instead of getting a few small plates of food, you were brought dozens of bite-sized portions that were all different but built on each other to create a cohesive meal. They also had an à la carte menu that was wildly popular and only hosted a handful of immersive experiences each night.
Another thing the restaurant was famous for was how the menus changed nightly and were based on the ingredients the chefs had on hand that day, so no two visits were ever the same.
Getting a table for their main dining room was hard enough, but it was nearly impossible to get on the list for the immersive experience if you didn’t have connections.
After perusing the three available menus, we settled on our choices.
Less than a minute after we put our tablets down, a waiter in a dark suit came to our table with a bottle of wine.
“Thank you for choosing to dine at Kristof’s. My name is Anthony,” he said, expertly pouring out our drinks. “I’ll be your host tonight. Please feel free to ask any questions about the food, the preparation, or anything else during the presentation.”
“Are you sure you want that?” Quinn asked teasingly. “My boyfriend is a scientist.”
I flushed hot at Quinn’s words, but Anthony grinned as he looked between us. “Of course. Some of my best services have been with scientists. Would you like a moment with your drinks, or are we ready for the first course?”
“Ready?” Quinn flicked his gaze to me.
I nodded.
“Excellent.” Anthony gathered our tablets. “I’ll be back in a moment.”
“You doing okay?” Quinn asked when we were alone again.
“Yeah. Just processing. I’m still in shock that we’re here, in the private room. I heard it’s basically impossible to get a reservation for the immersive experience without connections.”
“It is, but Evan was happy to pull some strings for us.”
“And you said this is part one?” I asked, still a little dazed at how much time and effort Quinn had put into our date.
“Yup.” He picked up his wine and took a small sip. “As long as the kitchen isn’t slow. I planned things so we’d have enough time to get to our next destination, but I have a backup plan just in case.”
“Are you sure? I mean, this is already so much.”
“I’m sure. Now, stop feeling guilty and focus on the fact that I’m having just as much fun as you are, and this night is as much for me as it is for you.”
“It is?”
He nodded and put his wine down. “I haven’t been on a date in over six years. I wanted to give us both the break we not only need but deserve. Now, are you going to stop feeling guilty?”
“Yes.”
“Good.” He ran the edge of his shoe up my leg.
I suppressed a shudder just as Anthony appeared in my line of sight. Quinn had no idea what a simple touch—and that hot look—was doing to my already messy insides.
Now I just needed to keep it together while we enjoyed what would probably be the meal of a lifetime.
“I’m not gonna lie, a part of me thought I was going to leave there hungry.” Quinn pulled into a paid lot in the arts district. “I couldn’t quite wrap my head around how a bunch of mouthful-sized portions could add up to a full meal, but I was mistaken. I guess that will teach me to trust the science.” He parked in one of the only free spaces available, and we got out of the car. “Ready for part two?”
“Definitely.” I looked around. “But where are we? I mean, I know we’re in the arts district, but what’s here?”
“My old theater.” He grinned at my expression. “I spent three years cutting my teeth as a member of the community theater here before I moved to New York.”
“Really?”
“Yup. I became a patron when I retired from filming as a way to give back. As a thank you, they give me season tickets and a private box. I’ve always brought friends or family to shows, now I get to bring my boyfriend.” He flashed me a big smile as we walked down the street together.
My neck heated under my collared shirt. I loved how he never hesitated to call me his boyfriend around others. How he wanted everyone to know that we were together.
“That’s really amazing of you to give back like that.”
He shrugged. “The theater was like a second home to me growing up, and I got a lot of help when I was a kid. Most of my lessons were heavily subsidized, which is the only reason we could afford them. I never would have gotten to where I am now if I hadn’t had that help, and I promised myself I’d pay it forward when I was financially stable and could give others the same opportunities I had.”
I’d noticed Quinn had trouble accepting compliments that didn’t have anything to do with his looks. He always downplayed his accomplishments and brushed off praise because, in his mind, it was just the right thing to do.
“So, what’s playing tonight?” I asked, changing the subject.
“It’s the premiere of an original play called The Seven. It’s about a dinner party with the seven deadly sins where they’re summoned and have to justify their existence and why they’re necessary for the world to function.”
“That’s a fascinating concept. It plays into the argument that in order for good to exist, there needs to be evil.”
“Exactly. The writer is brilliant. I got to take a quick look at the script back when they were casting, and I can’t wait to see what they’ve done with it.”
We came around the corner and were greeted by a crowd of people outside a squat stone building.
Quinn slowed his pace and checked his watch. “We’ve got about ten minutes until they open the doors. Whew. I was worried we wouldn’t make it on time.”
“You said you had a backup plan?”
“Yeah, but I’m keeping that one close to my chest for our next date.” He slipped his hand into mine and squeezed. “I’m really happy I get to share this with you.”
“I’m glad too. It means a lot that you want to share your passions with me.”
Quinn shot me another of those soft smiles that made my insides gooey and leaned in to kiss me.
It was a quick kiss, more of a brushing of lips than anything, but it was what it symbolized that made it so special. Quinn wasn’t afraid to let everyone around us know that he was with me, that he’d chosen me.
“Do you mind if I drag you around to say hi to a few people?” he asked. “It’s either we do it now, or they catch us at intermission.”
“Not at all. Drag away.”
He gave me another quick kiss, then took my hand and led me toward the crowd.