Chapter 7
Sean told himself that he was not disappointed that Gabriel hadn’t stayed.
After all, he was the one who’d set the expectations. They were going to have sex, and scratch a mutual itch, and that was it.
He just hadn’t expected to like spending non-naked time—and naked time—with Gabriel so much.
He’d known him for two years now, and it was not exactly a mystery that they hadn’t really liked each other.
The guy had thrown a meatball at Sean. He’d been floored when he’d discovered how much he wanted to have sex with him.
But discovering that he actually enjoyed spending time with him?
That was a discovery that was throwing him a hell of a lot more.
“You’re frowning at that kale mix like it did something to you,” Tate said, as they sat in the shade, eating a late lunch together. “Does it need to apologize?”
“What?” Sean’s head jerked up. He’d been lost in his thoughts. He’d had too many questions recently. Like, why had it been three days since Gabriel had been over and he hadn’t asked if Sean wanted to get together again?
Sean was thinking he might have to ask him himself, and that thought made him both hot and cold all over.
With nerves, and with undeniable anticipation.
It had been so good the first—and the second—time. How good would it be the third?
“Does your salad need to apologize?” Tate asked again, still patient. Always so patient. He deserved a better friend than Sean was being.
“No, no, I’m just . . . thinking,” Sean said. About Gabriel.
“About Gabe?” Tate asked, so casually that for a split second, Sean was terrified that he’d actually said that part out loud.
“No!” Sean said quickly. “No, of course not. Why would I be thinking about him?”
Tate chewed his wrap thoughtfully. “Maybe because you had sex with him?”
“I . . . we . . .” Sean spluttered, and Tate rolled his eyes.
“You were all over each other at the party and then you left together. You definitely had sex.”
“Oh, yeah, that,” Sean said weakly. “Um, yeah, we did. But no, I am definitely not thinking about him. No way. It’s just . . . a sex thing. That’s it.”
“That’s it?” Tate repeated with disbelief.
Okay, so Sean was a terrible liar. If he hadn’t been so convinced he couldn’t possibly have any feelings—he’d know, because he’d been deeply in love before and it would be impossible for him to mistake it for lust—he wouldn’t have even convinced himself.
“It’s just a sex thing,” he said. “No big deal, right?”
The look Tate shot his direction made it clear that it was very much a big deal, but that was why Sean hadn’t gone around sharing any details of what they’d done. It was nobody’s business but their own.
Especially since it wasn’t going anywhere.
“Right,” Tate said, clearly not convinced.
Sean decided it was time to change the subject. “Have you ever met any of Gabriel’s family?” he asked. Okay, so it was technically not a change of subject, but Sean was really curious after their conversation the other day.
“Only a few of them,” Tate said, “There’s like a million of them. Did Gabe tell you he’s the middle child? Like literal middle child? Of seven kids?”
No, he had not. Sean told himself again that he had no right to feel disappointed.
“Wow,” Sean said. No wonder Gabriel had left the family restaurant business to branch out.
“I met Luca once—he’s the oldest,” Tate said. “He comes down once a year, to make sure Gabe isn’t fucking up or something.” Tate rolled his eyes. “He’s a little ridiculous. Imagine Gabriel times about a hundred. And talk about anal retentive. Geez.”
“I bet Gabriel can’t stand it,” Sean said. Not surprised that he’d never met Luca; back then, he’d have wanted to keep Sean away from any vulnerable spots.
But things between them had changed. Maybe they would never see eye to eye about who should change their name, but they weren’t constantly at each other’s throats any more.
“Oh, he does,” Tate said. “And last year, he brought Dario, who I think is a year younger than Gabriel.”
“What’s he like? Are he and Gabriel friends?”
“Well, anything looks good compared to Luca,” Tate said. “But yeah, they seemed to be.” He hesitated. “You sure seem interested in Gabriel, considering all you have is a sex thing.”
Tate was not wrong. He rarely was.
“Oh, well, just gathering info, you know. I’ve got to convince Gabriel to change his name, and well, why not go back to the original? That’s the family restaurant name, right?”
Even as he said it, Sean knew Gabriel wouldn’t want to go back to that. He’d changed it for a reason and he’d already told Sean that he didn’t feel like he could take any credit for anything he did. Changing the name would only make that worse.
“Yeah,” Tate said. “But I wouldn’t hold my breath.”
“I’m not,” Sean reassured him. “Just exploring some options.”
Tate did not look totally convinced. “You could both change it, you know, and that would be a solution where neither of you feels like you lost,” he suggested. “Maybe you could even be friends afterwards.”
Tate was sweet; he really did mean well. But he didn’t have all the facts. He didn’t know about Milo. He didn’t know that Sean was never going to give in.
Gabriel would just have to figure out a way to reconcile himself to a new name, or the old one.
“Speak of the devil,” Tate said, gathering together his trash and standing to dump it into the bin a few feet away. “Looks like Gabe’s coming over this way.”
Sean squinted against the bright sun, wishing he’d brought his sunglasses, but Tate was right, Gabriel was on his way over, a determined expression on his handsome face.
“I’ll let you two . . . well”—Tate paused—“do whatever it is you two do together.”
Sean opened his mouth to argue, but snapped it shut again. “See you later,” he finally said. They’d been stupid enough to be all over each other at the party; it was inevitable they were going to get some shit for hooking up.
Maybe they should just own it.
Gabriel wandered over, all casual, like he hadn’t been clearly walking this direction for the last sixty seconds.
“Hey,” he said. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing,” Sean said.
Gabriel shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “Busy day,” he said. “You finally get a break?”
It was almost three now. Gabe was right, it had been a crazy day, if he was only just eating lunch mid-afternoon.
“Yeah,” Sean said. “Lunch was busy for you guys, too?”
Gabriel nodded. “Super busy.”
You should just ask him now. It’d be so easy. Just say: hey, do you want to come over after work and fuck me?
They should be easy to say. He knew Gabriel wanted him. They’d already had a really good time together once. They’d clearly left it open-ended—like it could happen again.
Who was he kidding? They both desperately wanted it to happen again.
That was why Gabriel was over here, eying him like there was something he wanted to say—needed to say—but couldn’t quite spit it out.
And Sean? Well, he was just as pathetic.
If Gabriel hadn’t come over, he’d have gone over to Gabe’s truck after his break and done just about the same goddamn thing.
“Are you busy later?” Gabriel finally asked.
“Like this afternoon?” Sean wondered.
“No,” Gabriel said, and he shoved his hands into his pockets. “Like way later. Like after we close, later.”
“Oh.” Duh. “Well, yeah, I’m free.” Gabriel had come part of the way, Sean reasoned, he could at least go the rest. “Did you want to come over again?”
“Yeah, I would,” Gabriel said, a sudden smile breaking across his face. “That would be great.”
Sean found himself smiling right back, so wide his face literally hurt. “Yeah, it really would.”
“Alright. So . . . meet you after close?” Gabriel said hopefully.
“Yeah, sounds good,” Sean said, rising and throwing away his mostly uneaten salad. He hated to waste food, but between the midday heat and the sudden excitement pumping through his veins, he wasn’t hungry at all.
Well, that wasn’t quite true, Sean thought as he and Gabriel just stared at each other. Like neither of them knew quite what to say. He was hungry. Just not for food.
“Alright, I should get back to the truck; give Ren a break,” Gabriel said, but didn’t move.
“Yeah,” Sean said. Not moving either. “I should re-open.”
The air between them was practically crackling with the tension—it was somewhat similar to how they’d always been, Sean realized, but different now too. Because he knew how Gabriel tasted and he smelled and the noises he made when he came.
Everything between them, which had always felt so impersonal before, felt intensely personal now.
Gabriel knew about Milo. He’d told Sean about his family and a little about his insecurities.
Nothing, Sean realized, was going to be the same after that.
And suddenly, he really did not know what they were going to do about the name. He couldn’t change it, but knowing what he did now, about Gabriel and his family, could he legitimately ask him, even as a friend, to change it back?
He didn’t know.
Maybe Tate had the right idea after all, and they should both change it.
But that tiny sore spot inside of Sean, the one that still occasionally thought that Milo might pop his head through the door and shoot Sean that big smile of his, the one that he continued to remember and to grieve, it rebelled.
He couldn’t give in; if he did, what kind of a person would that make him?
“Maybe you could make me one of those quesadillas again,” Gabriel said hopefully.
“I’d love to,” Sean said, and discovered he meant it.
Wasn’t that weird? He could have sex with Gabriel and make him a quesadilla and it was fine, but the thought of changing the food truck’s name made him panic.
“Good.” Gabriel still hadn’t walked away.
Sean really needed to re-open his truck, though if he was a few minutes late, who would know? Maybe he could sneak Gabriel back there for a quick make-out session. Just something to ease the tension a bit.