Chapter Twenty-Eight #2
“Hi,” Scott said, standing to give him a quick hug.
“Hi. You’re wearing a suit! I knew I’d be underdressed…”
“You look good,” Scott said, letting his eyes travel over him. “Perfect.”
“If you say so,” Kip grumbled, sliding into the semicircular booth. Their thighs brushed together, but Scott refused to flinch.
“This place is nice,” Kip observed.
“Yeah, uh, Carter said it’s…romantic.”
Kip smiled at him, and Scott blushed.
“I’m just happy to be somewhere with you,” Kip said. “Wouldn’t matter where. But this is nice. Thank you.”
“I’m a little worried that Carter might show up here,” Scott said. “I think he’s sort of keen to meet you.”
“That’s sweet, right?”
“Yeah. It is. I want to introduce you to everyone, but not tonight.”
Kip tapped his foot against Scott’s. “Not tonight.”
“Hey, um, do you want some wine? Or a drink? After tonight I’m abstaining from alcohol until after the finals, so…”
“Is that your rule, or your coach’s?”
“Coach’s. But I would have made the same rule for myself anyway.”
“Tough but fair.”
“Hey, some coaches make their players abstain from sex.”
“Shit. You ever had a coach who did that?”
“Yeah. Once.” Scott leaned in. “The hardest part for me was pretending it was difficult.”
Kip laughed, but it sounded a little sad. Scott touched their knees together under the table and saw a heat in Kip’s eyes that drew him in automatically. He wanted to kiss him.
“Any questions about the wine menu?” the sommelier said, interrupting the moment. Scott snapped backward, and immediately felt bad about it.
He clumsily ordered some wine, with the assistance of the eager-to-please sommelier. People expected Scott to know about things like wine, or to at least be interested, because he had money. He didn’t care about it.
He ordered a bottle of “The first thing you said. That one. Sounds good,” and the man left.
“Sorry,” Scott said as soon as he was gone. “I know I kinda…jumped back, just then.”
“It’s okay.”
“No—It’s—I didn’t mean to. I guess I’m not used to the idea of…”
“Not expecting you to suddenly be comfortable with everything,” Kip said. “We’ll take it slow.”
Scott smiled gratefully at him. Impulsively, he covered Kip’s hand with his own, on top of the table for anyone to see. Kip grinned and flipped his hand over, tangling their fingers together. It felt good. It was exhilarating, but it wasn’t scary.
Kip squeezed his hand, then pulled his own away to pick up his menu. “So what’s good here?”
“I have no idea,” Scott said. “I was checking out the menu a bit before you arrived. I understand about half of it.”
“I’m only going to say this once, because I know it makes me sound like trash, but this place is fucking expensive.”
“You know,” Scott said, “I still balk at prices like these. Even though I can easily afford them, I still instinctively look for the cheapest thing on the menu.”
“There is no cheapest thing on this menu.”
“Order whatever you want,” Scott said, “obviously. I think I’ll get the halibut because at least I know what that is.”
“Jesus. Is it stuffed with hundred-dollar bills?”
The wine arrived, and Kip was obviously trying not to laugh as Scott went through the charade of tasting it and pretending to know if it was any good.
He nodded at the pleased sommelier and the man filled their glasses.
He left, and their server came and they ordered, and then they were finally alone again.
“Hey,” Kip said in a soft voice, raising his glass. “To whatever’s next.”
“To whatever’s next.”
They had a nice dinner. They drank wine and ate ornate plates of weird food that tasted fantastic. They talked and planned for the future. The wine made everything pleasantly fuzzy, and made Kip seem to glow in the romantic lighting of the restaurant.
Between their main courses and dessert, Scott leaned in and said, “I love being here with you.”
That slow, sexy smile that Scott loved unfurled across Kip’s face. “Me too, sweetheart.”
“I want to take you everywhere. What you said about going dancing. At a club…”
“We will. Anytime you want.”
“Bet you look real good when you’re dancing.”
Kip leaned closer. Scott could smell his aftershave. He wanted to bury his face in Kip’s neck.
“I’d put on a real good show,” Kip drawled. “Everyone would be watching us. But it would all be for you. No one else.”
Scott shifted in his seat. He felt warm. “Damn right,” he growled.
Kip’s eyes widened. Scott had the dim thought that anyone who might be watching them would have no doubt that they were two men who were sexually interested in each other.
Sexually obsessed with each other, really.
Did he care anymore? God, he wanted to kiss Kip.
“What are you thinking about right now?” Kip asked.
Scott took the dare. “Kinda want to blow you under the table.”
Kip smiled and bit his lip. It was the sexiest thing Scott had ever seen.
“Well, that should get everyone’s attention,” he said, his eyes glittering with mischief.
Where the fuck was that stupid dessert they’d ordered?
“You’re a bad influence, Grady.”
“Mm. Corrupting New York’s perfect boy.”
“I was so sweet and innocent before I met you,” Scott smirked.
“If they only knew what kind of filth falls from those pretty lips when you’re—”
The server arrived with their desserts. Scott blushed and sat straight up, thanking him a little too forcefully when he set the plate down.
After the server left, Kip smiled and Scott shook his head and let out a shaky laugh.
“This is the problem with taking you anywhere,” Scott said.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I’m talking about how you have exactly three minutes to eat that dessert because I am getting you back to my place as soon as fucking possible.”
“What, no coffee?”
“I’ll make you coffee in the goddamn morning.”