Chapter - Nate #2
Carter laughs, and I laugh with him. We keep walking and talking about everything, from nothing to everything. We talk about life, food, and football until I bring him to Sabor Unido for lunch.
As we're being seated, I look at him and ask quietly, "Are you sure you're okay with us being in public like this?"
Carter pauses for a second, then gives me a look that's somewhere between guilt and reassurance. "Of course. I doubt anyone knows we're on a date."
I raise an eyebrow. A date, you say? How sexy."
He shakes his head and smirks. "Shut up."
We sit down and watch as the waiter walks over. I order us an appetizer: yucca with pork sausage, one of my favorites, which I know Carter will love. For his main, he goes with grilled chicken and peppers, such a health nut. I order the salmon with spinach and dig in as if I haven't eaten all day.
Quickly, our food starts to arrive. Mid-bite, Carter looks up and blurts out, "I really think you should rent that spot on Christopher Street and open your dream cafe. There's literally no good coffee place near my apartment. And the open mic idea? Genius."
I stop chewing for a second, surprised he remembered. It makes me weirdly happy.
"I'd love to," I say. "But I don't have the money for something like that. I do think a BYOB open mic would be amazing, though. Maybe weekends. Or a couple of nights a week. I was also thinking of doing themed drinks, like Schitt's Creek or Harry Potter, obviously."
Carter laughs, then looks down at his food. When he looks back up, he's more serious. "You know I am a football player, right? With a football player's salary.
I know exactly what he's getting at. And there is no shot I'd ever accept a handout from him. Not now, not later.
I look him in the eye and say firmly, "No."
He leans in slightly. "Think of it as an investment. I'd invest in your idea, and you'd run the cafe."
Carter continues, "You'd probably need another investor, at least until I get another contract, but it's something."
I look at him with so much admiration. "I love that you care enough to offer this," I say gently, "but I can't take it. Let's change the topic."
He nods, sensing this is a touchy subject. "Okay."
I don't mean to be short or snappy, but I just don't want him to pity me. I don't want handouts. I want to make my own money and feel like I earned it. I've always felt like I shouldn't need anyone else.
Then again…a small part of me wonders: if we did find another investor, Carter wouldn't have to put in that much, and maybe I could pay him back later.
It's definitely something to table for now.
I still haven't even figured out if I'm staying in Newark, moving back to Philly, or crashing at Carter's place for a while to get my shit together.
After we finish our meals, we both order vanilla ice cream for dessert. While we wait, Carter lights up, talking about football again. He brings up the first game of the season, Arizona, and how they're projected to win by three points.
"It's only three points," he says, eyes gleaming. "That means it's expected to be close. I love games like that."
When the ice cream arrives, Carter digs in immediately. I pause for a second, spoon in hand, and say, "Hey. I know New York is playing Philly in week three. I'm thinking of going to the game with my twin, Evan. Any chance you'd wanna go out with us after?"
Carter beams. "Of course! But I also want to take Marcus. I haven't spent enough time with him. I want to build a relationship there. And honestly? I think Evan would love Marcus, and he's so chill; anyone can get along with him."
Before I can respond, Carter adds, "Also, I'm not sure if you know this, but players get free tickets. I think it'd be great if your family joined you. Maybe we could all go to dinner after? And then head out with Evan and Marcus?"
I stare at him, my heart beating fast. He wants to meet my family. He's offering his tickets.
"That would be amazing," I say, glowing. "But, just so we're clear, my family's insane. They will absolutely tell you the most embarrassing stories about me. Don't believe anything."
Carter grins and winks. "Understood."
The check comes, and before I can even blink, Carter grabs it and puts his card down.
I don't argue. I just smile. "Thank you."
He shrugs playfully. "Anything for you, boo.
After we pay, it's around 2 p.m., and I know what's coming. Carter has practice in the morning. I've got a dozen things I need to figure out. It's time for him to leave, and I can see it on his face, too.
"I don't want to go," he says. "But if I don't leave now, I don't think I ever will leave. And then I'll miss my first game."
I smile. "Let me walk you to the train."
We make our way there, side by side. When we reach the station, I want to pull him in for a hug or kiss. But people are definitely watching, and I know some of them recognize him. So, instead, I just give him a flirtatious smile and say, "Goodbye."
Carter looks at me, reading everything I'm not saying. He nods, grateful, and replies, "See you soon. Maybe during the week?"
I tease, "Not sick of me yet?"
He laughs. "Never. I'll text you."
As he walks toward the train, I can't help but watch his ass. God, I loved being inside it. And I can't wait to do it again.
On my walk home, a little wave of sadness starts to settle in until my phone pings.
I look down at a text from Carter, "Miss you already."
Immediately, the sadness turns to happiness. I'm smiling like an idiot, already excited to see him this week.