Chapter Eight
Allen told himself to stop being an idiot. He’d dated before. He’d done the early spark, the messaging, the anticipation. He’d also done the part where it turned out the man only liked the chase, or just the sex, and once the novelty wore off, so had they, and Allen ended up hurt and alone.
Rick didn’t seem like that so far, and that was what kept throwing Allen off.
It wasn’t constant messages or anything forced.
It was the normal messages that made Allen think Rick actually wanted to know how he was.
Rick asked how his shift went, whether his friends were still being idiots, what Allen ate, what he was watching, and he remembered the details in a way Allen wasn’t used to anyone remembering.
By Tuesday, Allen had caught himself smiling at his screen while pretending to read an email from a customer.
By Wednesday, he was replaying the date in his head at the worst times, like the moment Rick had walked him home or the way he’d asked Allen to message when he was inside, even though he’d walked Allen to his front door.
It was simple, but it had made Allen feel as if someone cared about him, and that feeling stayed with him all week.
He knew he should be cautious. He wasn’t na?ve or stupid.
He was twenty-two and Rick was forty, and Rick had a whole past that Allen had only seen in fragments on screens and in old interviews.
Even now, there were moments where Allen caught the faint edge of something that felt almost managed, as if Rick was used to watching a room and reading people and deciding how to be perceived.
That should have put Allen on guard, but he knew it came from what Rick had been, and he tried not to take it personally.
Thursday afternoon, Rick’s message came while Allen was halfway through a call with a man who was furious about a bill and refusing to listen. Allen kept his voice calm and finished the call, then checked his phone as soon as he could.
Dinner Friday?
Allen read it three times before he replied because of how happy and excited he was that Rick had asked him out again. He typed his response and tried to keep it casual.
Yeah. Where?
Rick’s reply came back quickly. I’ll pick you up. 7 again?
Allen stared at it for a second, his pulse picking up.
Rick was going to pick him up as if it was normal, and it was, but Allen didn’t think he was the kind of person someone like Rick did that for.
“Stop it,” he muttered. “Enjoy it while he’s interested.
” Before he could overthink it, he sent his response.
Okay.
Less than a minute later, Rick’s message came through. Good.
Friday dragged, even though it should have been the fastest day of the week.
Allen got through his shift, went home, and then spent far too long choosing what to wear for someone he’d met in a café.
He changed his shirt twice, then cleaned the kitchen counter and made his bed as if Rick might see it.
Allen snorted at his own behavior, but double-checked to make sure his apartment was clean.
By 6:55, Allen was at the window watching the street, and annoyed with himself for doing it, but he didn’t move away. When a dark car finally pulled up, he felt his stomach flip. He swallowed, grabbed his jacket, and forced himself to walk down the stairs like a normal person.
Rick was already outside the car when Allen stepped onto the sidewalk, tall and solid in the cold air, black coat buttoned, hands shoved into his pockets. He smiled when he saw Allen, and Allen had to bite his lip to stop himself from turning around and running back inside.
“Hey,” Rick said.
“Hey,” Allen managed, hoping his voice sounded normal.
Rick looked him over once, then his gaze caught on Allen’s collar. “You’re cold.”
“I’m fine,” Allen said with a shrug.
Rick stepped closer and tugged Allen’s collar up, his fingers brushing the side of his neck in a way that made Allen go still. The touch was simple, almost casual, but it felt deliberate. Allen wasn’t sure if it should bother him, but found it didn’t.
“You’ll freeze in that,” Rick said.
“It’s a jacket,” Allen muttered, and Rick’s mouth twitched.
“And you’re stubborn.”
Allen huffed a quiet laugh because it was true, then let Rick open the passenger door for him and got in. As Rick drove, Allen sat watching him.
Rick had a nice side profile. A straight nose and a chin that didn’t jut forward.
Allen had once dated a man whose jaw jutted forward.
One date, actually. One had been enough.
It hadn’t been the jaw; people couldn’t help the way they looked, but the smell?
Yeah, having a shower and being clean was a must for Allen. So, yeah, one date.
Rick didn’t turn the music on right away, and he didn’t fill every gap with conversation, which made the quiet feel less awkward and more intimate in a way Allen couldn’t explain.
The restaurant Rick chose was small and dim.
It wasn’t fancy, but it was nice, and Allen noticed it was the kind of place where people kept their voices down and didn’t stare at strangers, which Allen assumed was why Rick had picked it.
Rick led Allen to a booth near the back, and Allen slid in first. Rick sat opposite him, close enough that their knees touched, and Allen became aware of every move he made.
They ordered, ate, and talked. Rick asked questions, and Allen didn’t feel as if he was being cornered into answering. He’d had dates like that in the past where he’d been put on the spot and forced to answer when he didn’t want to.
When he tried to shrug things off, Rick didn’t push; he just waited, and somehow that made Allen fill the silence.
They talked about work and friends, about the stupid things customers said.
Rick didn’t act like Allen’s job was beneath him, and he didn’t act like his own life was better.
It surprised Allen how down to earth Rick was, and he found himself opening up more because of it.
At one point, Rick said something about Allen being kind. “Kind people assume the best,” Rick said, and Allen frowned without meaning to.
“That’s not a bad thing,” Allen said.
Rick’s mouth tightened for a second, then he nodded. “No. It isn’t.”
When they finished, Rick paid again. Allen reached for his wallet, but Rick shook his head.
“I asked you out.” Allen found himself letting it go because it didn’t feel like some power play.
It felt as if Rick wanted to do it, and Allen didn’t know what to do with someone wanting to treat him to a meal out.
He wasn’t used to it, but then again he wasn’t used to a man like Rick giving him attention.
Rick drove toward Allen’s building, then turned off two streets early, and Allen glanced out the window.
“Where are we going?” Allen asked.
“A short walk,” Rick said. “If you want.”
Allen hesitated, then nodded. “Yeah.”
They walked through a quiet stretch of streetlights and houses, the kind of neighborhood that went still at night.
Allen didn’t know what to do with the silence, and it didn’t help that Rick kept glancing at him like he was waiting for something.
Eventually, Allen turned his head and looked at Rick.
“What?” he asked.
Rick’s eyes held his. “Nothing.”
“You’re looking at me,” Allen said.
Rick didn’t deny it. “Yeah.”
Allen’s pulse picked up. He stopped walking without realizing it, and Rick stopped too, turning to face him. “Why?” Allen asked.
“Because I like you,” Rick murmured.
Allen swallowed, and he forced himself to breathe. “Okay,” Allen whispered.
Rick’s mouth twitched. “Okay?”
Allen lifted his chin. “I like you too.”
Rick watched him for a few seconds, then nodded. “Good.”
Rick stepped closer and lifted his hand, brushing his fingers along Allen’s cheek. The touch made Allen’s stomach tighten, and his breath caught.
“You don’t have to,” Rick said quietly.
Allen blinked. “Don’t have to what?”
Rick’s gaze dipped to Allen’s mouth for half a second, then returned to his eyes. “You don’t have to keep saying yes just because I’m asking.”
Allen’s throat tightened, and he glanced away before looking back at Rick. “I’m not.”
Rick held his gaze. “Good.”
The silence stretched, and Allen could feel his nerves buzzing under his skin, his body leaning toward Rick. Rick leaned in and kissed him, soft and gentle. Allen’s hands stayed at his sides for a few seconds, then he grabbed the front of Rick’s coat and kissed him back.
Rick deepened the kiss slowly, and Allen moaned softly, returning it. When Rick pulled back, his breath was warm against Allen’s lips, and his eyes stayed fixed on Allen’s face.
“You’re shaking,” Rick murmured.
“I’m not,” Allen lied automatically.
Rick’s thumb brushed the side of his neck where Allen’s pulse was racing. “You are.”
Allen swallowed. “Maybe I’m cold.”
Rick’s mouth twitched. “You’re not cold.”
“No,” Allen whispered.
Rick’s eyes moved over his face, then he asked, “Do you want to go home?”
Allen nodded, and he knew what Rick meant when he asked the question. “Yeah.”
“Okay,” Rick replied.
They walked back to Rick’s car, and the drive back to Allen’s place felt shorter than it should have. Allen stared out of the window and tried to breathe normally, curling his hands into fists to stop them from shaking. Rick glanced over several times as he drove, and each time Allen smiled at him.
When they reached Allen’s building, Rick parked and turned the engine off. The quiet inside the car felt heavy, and Allen stared at the dashboard, unable to look at Rick.
“Look at me.”
Allen took a deep breath and turned his head. Rick’s gaze held his.
“Nothing will happen unless you want it to. I can drop you off and go home, and we can go out again.”
“I want…” Allen swallowed and took a deep breath. “Come inside with me.”