Chapter Ten
Rick was already outside the restaurant by the time Allen arrived. He stood with his hands in his coat pockets, watching the cars go by. He smiled when Allen approached, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes, and Allen noticed.
“Hey,” Allen said.
“Hey,” Rick replied, leaning in and kissing Allen’s cheek. Allen smiled as Rick stepped back and opened the door for him. “Are you hungry?”
“Yeah,” Allen said.
The place was busy but not too loud. A host led them to a booth near the back, and Allen slid in first. Rick sat opposite him, pulled his phone out, glanced at it, then put it on the table.
Allen picked up the menu, then immediately put it down. He watched Rick, noticing his clenched jaw and the way his eyes moved around the restaurant, then came back to Allen. Rick gave Allen another smile, then looked at the menu.
Allen hesitated. He could tell something was wrong, but he wasn't sure if he should say anything. Rick didn’t seem like he wanted to be there, and Allen didn’t want Rick to think he had to come out if he didn’t feel up to it.
After a minute, Allen asked, “You okay?”
Rick’s eyes narrowed slightly, as if the question had caught him off guard. “Yeah.” He smiled, then looked down at his phone before looking back up again. "I'm okay."
Allen tried not to overthink it. There could be any number of reasons why Rick appeared to be distracted. The server came over before Allen could figure out what to say, and Allen ordered a burger and fries. Rick ordered the same thing, then asked for water.
When the server left, Rick reached for his phone again, then stopped and flipped it so the screen faced down.
Allen watched him. “You sure you’re okay?”
Rick let out a slow breath. “Yeah. I’m fine.”
Allen didn’t respond right away. He put his hands on the table and looked at Rick. “You don’t seem fine.”
Rick held his gaze for a second. “Are you always this stubborn?”
“Yeah,” Allen said.
Rick’s mouth twitched, but there wasn’t much humor in it. He looked past Allen toward the front of the restaurant, then back again.
Allen didn’t know what he was checking for. Someone coming in. Someone looking too long. It still made Allen’s stomach tighten, and he blurted out, “If you don’t want to talk about it, you don’t have to.” Allen shrugged. “I’m not trying to start anything. I just noticed, that’s all.”
Rick nodded. “I’ve got a lot going on.”
“With music?” Allen asked. If there was something he could do to help, then he would, but he really didn’t know much about music.
Rick looked down for a second, then back up. “Writing.”
Allen watched him and nodded. “Is it going bad?”
Rick shook his head. “It’s just frustrating.”
Allen nodded again. Rick had mentioned writing before when he’d said things weren’t the same as they used to be. Allen knew music changed, but he didn’t know how that affected Rick.
“Alright,” Allen said. “I get that.”
Rick kept looking at him. His face appeared to harden, then it was gone a second later. “You shouldn’t.”
Allen furrowed his brow. “What?”
Rick shook his head. “Nothing. Forget it.”
“I’m not scared of you being in a mood.”
Rick glanced down at the table. “I don’t want you dealing with my shit.”
Allen clenched his jaw. “I’m not dealing with you like it’s my job.”
Rick looked back up, but didn’t speak for a moment. His expression softened, and he opened his mouth to say something when the food arrived. Allen smiled and thanked the waiter, then watched Rick stare at his plate. Allen grabbed a fry, dipped it in ketchup, and ate it as he watched Rick.
Allen changed the subject. “Jamie asked about you.”
Rick’s eyes lifted. “Yeah?”
Allen nodded. “Mark too. Connor thinks you’re a serial killer.”
Rick let out a small huff. “I could be.”
Allen watched him, waiting to see if the change in conversation helped. “They told me to message them your address,” Allen added.
Rick’s gaze sharpened. “Did you?”
“No.”
Rick frowned. “Why not?”
Allen held his gaze. “Because you haven’t given me a reason to.”
Rick stared at him for a second, then nodded. “Okay.”
“Do you want me to?”
Rick didn’t hesitate. “No.”
“Why?”
Rick’s jaw tightened. “Because I don’t want your friends involved in this. In us.”
Allen leaned back slightly. He didn’t know what to do with that. Maybe Rick had had people interfere in his previous relationships. That was possible with him being in the music industry. “Okay,” Allen murmured. “You just… seem tense tonight.”
Rick’s eyes stayed on him. “I want this to be just us.”
Allen’s stomach tightened, but he kept his voice even. “It is.”
Rick nodded. “Good.”
Allen ate another fry and tried to leave it alone. He didn’t want to push Rick, but he didn’t like feeling that Rick was holding something back. Maybe work was bothering him more than he wanted it to, and he didn’t want to burden Allen with it.
They finished eating, and Rick paid before Allen could get his wallet out properly. “I can pay sometimes,” Allen said.
Rick didn’t even look up as he handed his card over. “You can, but I want to pay tonight.”
Allen stared. “Why?”
“Because I asked you out.”
Allen watched him for a second, trying to work out if it was just habit or something else. They’d been out for three meals now, and Rick had paid every time. “Alright, but next time I’ll pay.”
Rick looked at him for a few seconds, then nodded. “Okay.”
Outside, Allen shoved his hands into his jacket pockets and stood by the curb while Rick unlocked his car. Rick glanced over and asked, “Do you want to come back to my place?”
Allen’s pulse jumped when Rick asked things like that. “Yeah,” he said.
Rick glanced over. “Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
As Rick drove them back to his apartment, Allen asked, “Is your place far?”
“No.” Rick glanced at him then looked back at the road. “It’s only ten minutes from here.”
Rick turned into a building with secured parking and drove down into the garage. He parked, turned the engine off, and sat there for a few seconds with his hands still on the wheel.
When Rick finally looked over, he gave Allen a small smile. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” Allen said. “Are you?”
Rick chuckled softly, then nodded. “Come on. Let’s go up.”
The first thing Allen noticed about Rick’s apartment was that it was clean and quiet. It looked expensive because of the building and the view, but there was nothing flashy about it. The living room had a dark leather couch and a large TV on one wall.
Rick tossed his keys into a bowl by the door and shrugged off his coat. Allen took his shoes off and hung his jacket. He looked around again. “It’s nice.”
“It’s fine,” Rick said.
“It’s nice,” Allen repeated, because it was, and because Rick had a habit of brushing things off.
Rick kissed Allen’s cheek. “Okay. It’s nice. I guess I don’t see it that way. It’s home.” He went into the kitchen, grabbed two bottles of water, and handed one over to Allen, who took it and sat on the couch.
Rick stood for a moment with his water in his hand, looking out of the window, then he sat beside Allen. Close enough to share the space, but not quite touching him.
Allen turned slightly toward him. “Do you want to tell me what’s going on?”
Rick rolled the bottle between his palms once. “It’s music stuff.”
Allen nodded. “Okay.”
Rick looked at him like he expected a reaction, but Allen didn’t give him one.
“Do you want to talk about it,” Allen asked, “or do you want to leave it alone tonight?”
Rick’s shoulders eased a little. “Let’s leave it for tonight.”
“Alright,” Allen said.
Rick kept watching him. “You’re good at that.”
“At what?”
“Letting it go,” Rick said. “Not pushing.”
Allen didn’t like how that sounded. “I’m not trying to do anything. I’m just here if you want to talk.”
Rick nodded. “Thanks for not pushing.”
Allen shifted on the couch so he was facing him more. “Can I ask one thing?”
“What is it?”
“If something’s stressing you out,” Allen said, “you don’t have to do the whole ‘I’m fine’ thing with me.”
Rick almost smiled, but didn’t quite manage it. “You don’t know me that well.”
“No,” Allen said. “But I know that habit.”
Rick leaned back and stared at the ceiling for a second, then looked at Allen again. “I’ll try.”
Allen smiled and nodded. “Okay.”
They talked for a while after that, but they kept it light. Allen told him about a show he’d been watching, and Rick mentioned a movie he’d seen years ago and hated. Allen told him about a place near his apartment that served great breakfast.
Rick didn’t say much, but he asked questions back, and it helped. He seemed more present once the conversation had begun.
Allen yawned and covered his mouth. “Sorry.”
Rick’s gaze softened slightly. “Tired?”
“Yeah.”
Rick stood and held out a hand. Allen took it and let Rick lead him down the hall. Inside Rick’s bedroom, Allen paused and looked. The bed dominated the room, with a built-in closet and a table next to it.
Rick glanced back. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” Allen said. “I just… I don’t want to assume anything.”
Rick’s gaze held his. “We can sleep.”
Allen blinked. “Just sleep?”
“Just sleep,” Rick said. “Unless you want more.”
Allen stared at the bed, then looked at Rick. “Sleep is good, but not just yet.”
Rick nodded. “Okay. We can do whatever you want.”
They stripped, and Allen got into bed. Rick got in beside him and turned to face him. After a minute, Rick shifted closer and put an arm around Allen’s waist.
“This is nice,” Allen said quietly.
“Yeah,” Rick said.
Allen hesitated. “Are you still thinking about it?”
Rick didn’t answer straight away. “A little.”
“Okay,” Allen said.
Rick’s hand tightened slightly, then relaxed. “Thanks.”
“Rick?” he said.
“Yeah.”
“I don’t care about the fame part,” Allen whispered. “Just so you know.”
Rick didn’t speak for a moment, and then murmured, “I know.”
Allen didn’t push it. “Good.”
He let himself settle after that. Allen closed his eyes and let himself drift.