Chapter Seven
Rick didn’t sleep much. He tried to convince himself it was the same thing it always had been. Restlessness or too many thoughts bouncing around his head, but he knew that wasn’t the whole truth.
Allen’s number was in his phone, and that had changed something. It made the quiet in Rick’s apartment feel different somehow. It made him check his screen more than he should, waiting for words that shouldn’t matter.
On Saturday, he cleaned his place. Just normal things like folding his clothes, wiping the counters, and taking out the trash. He even changed the sheets, which was ridiculous because Allen wasn’t coming over.
Rick went to the gym, worked out harder than usual, and still didn’t feel calm after he’d finished. He came home, showered, stared at his closet, and then chose something simple. Dark jeans and a black shirt, plus a coat that fit well.
He checked himself in the mirror and nodded. He looked normal and not like the murderer he was.
Before he left, Rick opened the news on his phone.
He didn’t want to, but he did it anyway.
He had to search for the story because more important news had taken its place.
When Rick did find it, he read it and found it had been updated with nothing.
Police continue investigating the death of a music manager. No suspects identified.
Rick stared at the line until his mouth tightened. No suspects. No arrests. Nothing about Rick. Nothing about a former client. Nothing about a dinner the night he died.
Rick put his phone down and exhaled slowly. It was still working, and that thought gave him a small thrill, a sensation he hated and craved at the same time.
Rick picked up his phone and messaged Allen the address of the restaurant. He chose one that wasn’t too crowded. A quiet place where they could talk and Rick could get to know Allen better.
He also didn’t want to be recognized. He wanted Allen to look at him the way he had in the café. Allen replied with a simple “Okay” and a thumbs up. Rick stared at it for far too long, then locked his phone and left.
He arrived early by only a few minutes and picked a table. It gave him enough time to settle and make it look as if he wasn’t waiting, which he actually was. He sat near the back and ordered water and kept his phone on the table. At 6:59, Rick’s pulse started to pick up. At 7:02, Allen walked in.
Allen looked different outside the café and out of his work clothes.
Jeans and a light blue shirt that looked good on him.
A dark jacket over the top, Allen looked tense, like he’d had to talk himself into showing up, and then he looked up and saw Rick.
His expression shifted. Relief first, then into something softer.
Rick stood up and waited as Allen walked over. Rick saw it again: that quick, cautious smile.
“Hey,” Allen said.
Rick’s chest loosened. “Hey.”
Allen glanced at the table, then back at Rick. “This place is nice.”
“It’s quiet.”
Allen’s mouth twitched. “You really don’t like crowds.”
He didn’t deny it. “Not anymore.”
They sat, and Rick watched Allen settle into the chair, watched his hands move, watched the way he looked around the restaurant.
“Are you okay?” Rick asked, keeping his voice casual.
Allen blinked. “Yeah. Just… nerves.”
“It’s okay to be nervous. I’m a little nervous too.”
Allen’s eyes widened. “You?”
“This is my first date with you. I don’t want to mess things up.”
The waiter came by before Allen could respond. Allen quickly checked the menu and ordered something simple, and Rick did the same. Allen reached for his water glass, then stopped before murmuring something and reached for the glass again.
Rick watched him and felt a strange tug in his chest. Allen was nervous, but he showed up anyway, and that mattered to Rick.
They talked about work first because it was easy. Allen described a customer who’d yelled at him for five solid minutes, and Rick listened, actually listened, because Allen’s voice mattered more than the story.
“You’re good at dealing with people,” Rick said.
Allen snorted. “I’m good at being polite while I’m dying inside.”
Rick’s mouth twitched. “That’s still a skill.”
Allen’s cheeks turned pink, and he looked down at the table, his finger tracing a pattern on the tablecloth. Allen asked about music next, careful with it, as if he didn’t want to upset Rick, which he appreciated.
“So… are you working on anything?” Allen asked.
Rick kept his face steady. “Yeah.”
“Yeah?” Allen’s eyes held his.
Rick nodded. “Writing. Trying to.”
Allen waited, giving him space. It was annoying how good Allen was at that. Most people filled the silence, but Allen didn’t. He simply gave Rick time to gather his thoughts.
Rick cleared his throat. “It’s slow. It’s not like it was.”
Allen nodded once. “Do you miss it?”
Rick should have lied. He should have made some excuse or shrugged it off and said it was fine, but he didn’t. “Yeah,” Rick said.
“I’m sorry.”
Rick watched his face. There was no pity, and Rick appreciated that. He held Allen’s gaze for a second longer than normal, but Allen didn’t look away.
The food arrived, and they talked between bites. The conversation stayed on normal topics. Rick asked questions and remembered the answers. Allen told him about his friends, and Rick filed the names away without effort.
Jamie. Mark. Connor.
“They’re protective,” Allen said with a small smile.
Rick nodded. “They should be.”
Allen arched his eyebrows. “Why?”
Rick kept his tone even. “Because people aren’t always what they look like.” Allen stared at him for a second, then looked down at his plate, and Rick realized how that could have sounded, so he added, “I mean… you’re young. You’re a good guy. People can take advantage of it.”
Allen’s cheeks reddened. “I’m not helpless.”
Rick watched him. “I know. It’s just that I’ve seen things in the music business. That’s all.”
The words came out calm, but something in Rick’s chest tightened. He didn’t like the idea of Allen being na?ve and gullible, and too trusting. He especially didn’t like the idea of someone else getting to him first. It wasn’t a thought Rick wanted to have, but he did have it.
Later, the waiter came by with the check, and Rick paid without making it a big deal. Allen reached for his wallet.
“I can pay—”
Rick shook his head. “I asked you out.”
“That doesn’t mean—”
“It means I want to,” Rick told him.
Allen hesitated, then nodded slowly. “Okay.”
When they left, the air outside had turned cold.
Rick walked beside Allen, close but not too close.
He didn’t want to crowd him, even though he did want to be close to him.
They moved down the sidewalk in silence for a minute, the streetlights throwing soft pools of light.
A couple passed them, and Allen glanced over and then forward again.
“Do you want to walk a bit?” Rick asked.
Allen blinked, then nodded. “Yeah. That would be nice.”
“Okay.”
Allen’s hands were in his pockets, and his breath fogged faintly in the air. He looked calmer now than he had when he arrived.
“I had fun,” Allen said quietly.
Rick looked at him. “Yeah?”
“You’re… not what I expected.”
Rick didn’t ask what he expected. He already knew. “Is that good?” Rick asked.
“Yeah. It’s good.” Allen smiled at him.
Rick held his gaze, and the urge to kiss him hit hard. To pull him closer and make Allen his, but he kept his hands at his sides instead.
Allen glanced away first, his cheeks pink, then said, “Can I ask you something?”
Rick nodded. “Yeah.”
Allen hesitated. “Why me?”
Rick’s mouth tightened slightly. The question was simple, but it wasn’t. Rick could have said anything, but he decided to stick to the truth. “You felt… safe,” Rick finally said.
Allen blinked, surprised. “Me?”
“Yeah.” Rick looked at him. “You do.”
Allen stared for a second, then looked down. “That’s not something people say about me.”
Rick’s jaw tightened. “They should.”
Allen didn’t look up right away, but when he did, his eyes held something Rick didn’t like seeing. It reminded him of how things used to be. So many people had made him feel good, had made him feel important, but the moment the lights and praise had dimmed, they’d walked away.
A man passed them on the sidewalk and glanced at Rick. A longer look than normal, and Rick felt the shift in his body immediately. The man didn’t stop, but Rick’s muscles remained tense.
“Are you okay?” Allen asked.
Rick forced his shoulders to relax. “Yeah.”
Allen didn’t look convinced, but he didn’t push. He just nodded and kept walking beside him. They reached Allen’s street, and Allen slowed. Rick stopped with him, close enough that Rick could feel Allen’s warmth in the cold air.
Allen looked up at him. “So… what now?”
Rick watched his face and knew that he wanted to see Allen again. “We do this again,” Rick said. “If you want to.”
Allen’s mouth twitched. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
Allen licked his lips. “Okay.”
Rick’s gaze dropped to Allen’s mouth for half a second, then back to his eyes. “Message me when you’re inside.”
Allen blinked. “Why?”
Rick didn’t smile. “Because I want to know you got in okay.”
Allen held his gaze for a moment, then nodded. “Alright.”
Rick watched him walk to his door, watched him unlock it and go inside. He stood there until Allen’s light flicked on in a front room window, then he turned and walked back to his car. He got in, started it, and then sat there.
His phone buzzed, and Rick saw the message from Allen. I’m in. Night.
Rick stared at it then he typed back. Night.
He put the phone down and let his mind drift where it wanted to. The police were still chasing the story, and Allen was still talking to him. Everything was fine for now. Rick exhaled slowly and pulled away from the curb.