7. Ryan #2
And so, we did. Our soup arrived quickly, the steam rising from the huge ceramic bowl tickling my nose while making my stomach rumble.
Huge slices of chicken chashu, miso eggs, and scallions sat atop a massive helping of ramen noodles.
We thanked our server, then opened our chopsticks, eager to dive in.
We both went for the same fat slice of egg, our chopsticks bumping.
“Oh, sorry,” we said in unison, cheeks red as the radishes we’d polished off.
“You go first,” we both said at the same time.
Cheeks still red, I went first. Gideon then got his slice, and we both sighed and made yummy noises. Leaning over the table to reach the large bowl brought us closer together, the intimacy making me feel flushed and giddy.
“Tell me about the makeup,” Gideon said as we delved into the bowl for noodles. He handled his chopsticks well. I chewed my bite of nori, then swallowed.
“Sometimes I like to wear it. It makes my feminine side happy. Some days I don’t, but lately… hmm, well, now that two people know. My dad,” I pointed my chopsticks at him, “and you, I find myself embracing that softer side more often.”
“I’m glad you trusted me enough to tell me that you’re gender fluid.” He dipped his gaze to the soup as he gathered up a mound of noodles. They hung there, a foot from his face, as he glanced up at me. “I’m not wholly sure what I am. Sexually, I mean.”
“That’s okay. There’s no law that says you have to have your sexuality figured out at a certain age. Some people don’t know until they’re on Medicare.”
I fished around in the bowl for some more chicken. His brow crinkled as he processed my answer.
“I know, I just…” Broth dripped from his noodles onto my chopsticks.
I didn’t mind. “I mean, I’m interested in men.
I just haven’t really devoted a lot of time to it.
” He carried the glob of dough to his mouth, then sucked it in.
Smiling to myself at the loud slurp, I nodded at him to go on as I searched for any meat that might be left.
Soft Japanese music floated out of some hidden speakers behind the cash register.
The giggles of a girl at another table reached me.
She sounded so happy. I was too. Happier than I’d been in a long, long time.
“I’m kind of a private person overall.” I looked up from my chicken search.
Those stunning blue eyes were studying me closely.
His lips slick with broth. Oh, how I wanted to press my mouth to his, to taste the soup made more delicious by the essence of Gideon.
My cock thought that was a wonderful idea.
I was very glad for long tablecloths. “Losing my brother sort of killed everything inside my family and me for a long time. Mental illness isn’t a big gold star on the report card of dating. ”
“Neither is addiction,” I mumbled, then sighed as I came to realize there was no more chicken in our big bowl. I settled for some egg floating at the bottom.
“But you’re recovering.”
My gaze moved from the soup to him. “As are you. You have your depression under control.”
“Not today.”
“No one would be feeling like a party on such a sad day. Dad and I are always subdued on the date of my mother’s death. That’s normal.”
“I guess.” His eyes shifted to something behind me, then back to me. “Can I tell you something?”
“Sure.” I gave him a tiny smile. To encourage him.
“I think you’re very pretty. The color of your hair is amazing. I’d like to see you in makeup sometime, but I don’t think you need any enhancement.”
“That’s sweet, thank you. I think you’re very pretty too, but makeup is a form of expression for me, as well as a way to look my best. Someday I’d like to go back to beauty school. I started a few years ago, then ketamine got its hooks into me, so I left my classes.”
“Beauty school dropout,” he began to softly sing to me over the top of our big white bowl. I laughed. He smiled. My heart stuttered at the beauty in a smile from a momentarily happy Gideon.
“Just call me Frenchy,” I countered, which made him chuckle.
We talked about movies for the rest of the meal.
We shared a love of historical flicks and TV series, a fondness for gothic romances, and a secret desire to one day be in a retelling of Bram Stoker’s The Jewel of the Seven Stars.
That topic led to vampire shows we loved, which led to mochi balls and more green tea.
Gideon had to leave for a game tonight. I was scheduled to work.
We were cutting it close. We finally paid the bill and headed outside.
I tugged my coat more tightly around me.
Gideon stayed close to my side, not too close but just close enough.
The parking garage was emptying out as people left downtown to go home.
We made it to his truck, and he opened the door for me again.
I’d never ever been made to feel more special than I had with him.
He was so soft-spoken, so gentle with me that it seemed far-fetched to think he went out every other night on steel blades and knocked people on their asses.
Yet that was Gideon. I was incredibly drawn to him on so many levels.
Even his size didn’t rattle me too badly now that I was more comfortable around him.
Spending this time with him had eased some of my jumpiness.
“So, uhm, I was wondering,” he said as the truck rolled over quietly. Cool air, which warmed quickly, blew through the vents. I turned my chilly face into the warmth. “Would you be interested in coming to the fundraiser with me?”
My head swung to the left as if it were on a swivel. “What?”
He was looking right at me, his shoulders relaxed, large hands dangling over the steering wheel. “I mean, you did pick out my clothes. Don’t fashion stylists go to outings with their star clients?”
“Oh, oh, you mean like Law Roach and Zendaya.” A wave of disappointment crashed down over me, but I kept my expression bright. “Sure, yeah, I would love that.”
“Good, excellent. I’d like to have you there. With me. As a plus one.”
“Great. A plus one sounds awesome.”
He crinkled his nose as if he had something bad in his nostrils. “Okay, uhm, that’s not what I really meant. A plus one is a date, yeah?”
“Well, I mean, it can be, or it can just be friends. We’re friends. We shared soup.” I made myself grin. He still looked like he’d sniffed skunk. “Your chopsticks rubbed mine. If that doesn’t say friendship, I don’t know what does.”
His eyes narrowed, then closed tightly before opening to find me watching him. “I think I’m fucking this up. Okay. I’d like it to mean a date if you’d like that?”
Would I like that?! Silly man. “I would. Very much so!”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah, very sure. Very, very sure.”
I’d never been more sure of anything in all my life.