Fourteen
Alex
I feel like an absolute idiot after Blaine witnessed my internal freakout over the prices here.
I knew what to expect. I shouldn’t have been shocked, but still, it’s wild. A completely different lifestyle from what I’m used to. From what I can afford.
But tonight, I’ve realized that Blaine definitely isn’t the guy the media makes him out to be.
This entire night has been the best date I’ve ever been on.
He’s attentive, funny, and confident, but there’s something else underlying.
Something that makes me think the cocky playboy personality is all a front.
He’s been nervous all night, fumbling over his words, shaking out his hands when he thinks I’m not looking, and rubbing the back of his neck.
He’s been super attentive, like he’s consciously making sure he puts his best foot forward.
It’s obvious he wants to impress me, and he did the second he picked me up earlier.
“So, do you really think you could eat two of each?” I ask.
He rubs the stubble on his chin as his eyes scan the menu, then looks up and gives me that wicked grin from the first night at the game. “I bet I can eat four.”
My eyes widen. “What? There’s like…” I scan the menu again, quickly counting the options listed. “Eight different tacos here.”
His eyebrows lift in a silent challenge, giving me a “Yeah, and? Your point?” look.
I scoff, shaking my head in disbelief. “Hockey players and their crazy appetites.”
“I told ya, I’m a growing boy.” He winks, patting his solid abs through his shirt.
When the waiter returns to take our orders, his face is a mask of surprise when Blaine orders four of everything along with two beers, which he brings over straight away.
“So, have you always lived in Chicago?” he asks me once the waiter leaves.
I take a sip of beer and nod. “Yeah, born and raised. I went to college here, too. I didn’t want to be too far away from my grandparents, though my grandma insisted I still experience dorm life, so I made sure I was only a bus ride away from them in case they needed me.”
“You live with your grandparents?”
“I did, yeah. I lost my parents when I was seven, so my grandparents raised me and my brother.”
“Fuck, I’m so sorry to hear that.” Blaine reaches out to touch my arm.
“Thank you. Sadly, I lost both my grandparents two years ago, too. They passed away pretty close together, so it’s just me and my brother Jacob now. The one you met.”
I haven’t talked about it in a while. We don’t have any other family here, and our close friends know. My chest tightens as the emotions I’d buried deep float to the surface.
Blaine comes closer and takes my hand in his. The soft, soothing glide of his thumb across the back of my hand is comforting. “I’m so sorry, Alex. I can’t even begin to imagine losing your family like that.”
“It was really hard. It was four months before graduation, too. I’m still shocked that I managed to graduate, but Jacob needed me, so we kinda got through it together.”
“You guys own the bakery together, right?”
I nod, impressed that he remembers. “Yeah, that’s right. We opened the shop a couple of years ago.” I smile at the thought of my brother. “He’s three years older than me, but he’s like my best friend.”
“Elliot is my best friend, too.”
“Is it true that twins have some kind of telepathic sense?”
He guffaws. “Yeah, we seem to feel what the other is feeling sometimes, like he was saying the other night. It happens even if we’re not together. We have this thing as well where it’s like we know what the other is thinking. It creeps the fuck out of Coach.”
An image of Blaine and Elliot telepathically conspiring against Coach Harris enters my mind, making me snort. “I can imagine that would freak a lot of people out.”
“He’s just been the one person in my life who gets me, as weird as it sounds.”
I shake my head. “It’s not weird at all. He's important to you. Jacob is the same to me; he just gets me. Nate, too. We met in college.”
“Would it be bad if I admitted I was a little jealous of him the other day?” he says coyly. His fingers trace idle patterns on my forearm, almost like a nervous tic.
The thought of Blaine being jealous makes me giddy.
“Why?”
“Because I thought you were a couple, and I’d missed my shot with you.”
I melt at how vulnerable Blaine looks. His playboy bravado has been replaced with boyish charm, and the sincerity in his stunning gray eyes makes me want to lean over the table and kiss him again.
But I don’t.
Instead, a bubble of laughter escapes. “I can assure you there is nothing to be jealous of. Nothing has ever happened between Nate and me.”
Blaine’s eyebrows go up in surprise. “Really? Nothing at all?”
“Okay, maybe once, but I don’t think making out in sophomore year really counts. We were pretty drunk, and soon realized it was like kissing your brother, so we didn’t do it again.”
He chuckles, shaking his head.
The waiter and two other staff members make their way to our table, carrying trays filled with tacos—chicken, fish, BBQ pulled pork, two variations of beef, veggie, lamb, and spicy bean.
I have no idea how we're going to eat everything because the table is so full that they’ve had to pull up an extra one to accommodate the number of plates.
The final dish is put down, and there’s tacos as far as the eye can see.
“Holy shit…” I whisper.
Blaine grins from ear to ear as he tucks his napkin into his shirt like a bib, then rubs his hands together eagerly. “It’s taco time, baby!”
I take a bite out of the spicy bean taco, humming as delicious flavors take over my tastebuds, while Blaine eats his in two mouthfuls, licking his fingertips clean before going in for his second.
“When did you start playing hockey?” I ask between bites.
“I think I was about four years old. My dad grew up in Minnesota, and we used to watch the games with him. One of my earliest memories is of him telling us we weren't allowed to play football.”
I chuckle. “What would he have done if you did?”
He shakes his head. “I have no idea, but El did show an interest, but my dad squashed that pretty quick. He used to play goalie for me in the yard before he started playing.”
Blaine demolishes two more tacos before suggesting, “Let’s play the quick question game.
I’ll ask some questions, and you’ve gotta give me the first answer that comes to mind.
Kinda like speed dating, but you don’t move on to another person.
” His smile is deviant. “Because you’re on a date with me, and I don’t wanna share you. ”
I roll my lips, trying to conceal the grin that threatens to appear. Inside, I’m still on cloud nine about being the main focus of his attention.
“Okay, then I'll ask you questions?”
He nods, picking up another taco.
I wipe my hands on the napkin and take a sip of my beer.
“Favorite movie?” he begins.
“Empire Strikes Back.”
“Star Wars, huh?”
“Yeah, nothing beats the original trilogy.”
He lifts his hand up, and we high-five.
“How about you?” I ask.
“Top Gun: Maverick.” He leans forward. “Have you seen the beach volleyball scene? How can you not get a boner over that?”
“That’s true, it’s pretty hot. Pizza topping?”
“I’m all about Philly cheese steak covered in ranch.”
My nose scrunches up at his questionable taste. “Pepperoni, but I kinda like anything as long as it doesn’t have pineapple.”
“Oh, the controversy.” He chuckles.
“What about ice cream? This could be a deal breaker.”
“Mint choc chip.”
“Okay, I could get behind that. I’ll be honest, I’m basic and love strawberry.”
“Nothing basic about you, baby.” He winks.
I laugh as my cheeks heat. Not from the compliment, but from the wink.
“Sex position?”
I choke on my beer and begin to cough. I hit my chest with my palm, trying to dislodge the fluid now stuck in my windpipe, and my eyes fill with unshed tears.
Blaine leans over the table, gently patting my back.
“Sorry…” He smirks, clearly not sorry in the slightest.
When the coughing subsides, I take a few deep breaths to regain composure, wiping my eyes with a napkin, and decide to pay him back with my own form of torture.
If he wants to play this game, it’s on.
I take a careful sip of my beer, noticing his eyes latch onto the movement of my throat when I swallow. Placing my bottle back on the table, I move closer, and Blaine mirrors my movement.
I watch his tongue lick a path across his lips and I drop my voice a few octaves.
“I like my guy on his back, so I can see his face while I'm riding him. I like to be able to watch his face morph into absolute bliss when he comes so hard in my ass, and I get to cover his abs with my come.” I pick up my beer again and take a sip.
I can’t believe I’ve just said that, especially in public, but here we are.
Blaine squeezes his eyes shut. His teeth trap his bottom lip, and his hands clench into a fist on the table. His head hits the back of the booth with a thud, and when his eyes open again, fire is blazing in those stormy grays.
Need. Want. Lust.
All for me.
It radiates off him like a volcanic blaze, and my cock thickens in my jeans under his heated stare.
I don’t miss his hand dipping under the table. Is he touching himself right now? I kinda hope he is.
“Fuck, you keep making me hard in public, and I can’t do anything about it.”
I smirk. “You shouldn’t ask questions that put you in such a hard situation.”
His nostrils flare. “My restraint is wearing thin, Alex.”
My head tilts curiously. “And what are you gonna do about it?”
“If I had my way, I’d be getting these tacos to go and take you home to experience your favorite position in real life, except instead of letting you come on my abs, you’d come in my mouth so I could taste every sweet drop of you.”
Well, fuck me. My plan backfired spectacularly.
I shift awkwardly in my seat, trying to ease the pressure of my achingly hard dick in the tight confines of my jeans.