When the older gentleman walked away, Gabe tapped his water glass against mine and smiled. “Cheers.”
“Cheers.” I sipped my water, then pushed it aside and propped my elbows on the table. “Are you Spanish?”
“Half Mexican on my mom’s side. I grew up speaking Spanglish. I still do,” he said with a laugh.
“Give me an example.”
“Okay. Te ves bien. Es esa new shirt?”
I chuckled. “Sí. It is.”
“Ha. You’re a natural. I like that shirt, by the way. Your eyes look bluer or something.”
His timbre was low and sexy. And when his gaze sharpened with appreciation, it took me a moment to snap out of it.
“Thank you.”
Our waiter returned with my sangria and asked if we were ready to order our main course. I studied Gabe carefully, admiring his olive skin and the graceful cut of his jawline. I tuned out his words and listened to the cadence of his deep voice. It moved through me like honey.
“Do you know what you want?” he asked, ripping me from my reverie.
“Uh…” I glanced down at the menu and immediately gave up. There were too many choices. “What are you having?”
Gabe gave me a mischievous grin. “Do you trust me?”
“No. Not really.”
He glowered playfully. “Trust me this time. I promise you won’t be sorry.”
He snatched the menu from my fingers and handed it to our waiter with instructions to “Make that two.” I huffed in amusement as I plucked a piece of orange from my sangria.
“It doesn’t really matter. I’m too nervous to eat anyway,” I commented ruefully.
“Why are you nervous?”
“Because whatever this is”—I gestured between us before continuing—“I’ve never done it before. And other than the night of Chelsea’s party, the only time we’ve ever spent together has been in the pool. And most of that time, I haven’t liked you.”
“Ouch. We’re trying to be friends, Der. This is just dinner.”
I frowned at his oversimplification. “It feels like a date. I know it’s not, but—”
“It can be, if we want it to be.”
“I don’t know what to say to that. This is really confusing for me. For the record, I don’t usually dress up for dinner with my friends, and I’ve never kissed any guy on the lips.”
Gabe gave me a mischievous look as he leaned forward. “We did more than that, Der.”
“Yeah, but…it didn’t mean anything,” I said before adding, “Do you do that all the time?”
“What? Kiss my teammates?” he quipped.
“Yeah.” I nodded, then sipped my sangria.
“Never. And I can honestly say, I haven’t come in my underwear in years. You were on fire.”
“I was drunk. You have no excuse.”
“I don’t need an excuse, and I’m not sorry. It was hot.” Gabe paused when a server set the bread and empanadas on our table and then refilled his water. When we were alone again, he continued. “Jesus, I’m getting a boner just thinking about it. Are you? Be honest.”
That had to be a rhetorical question. I was so fucking horny it hurt to sit still. My dick nudged my zipper, practically begging for release. And once again, I didn’t understand my reaction to him. It was madness.
I clandestinely flattened my palm over my crotch and shifted in my seat before nodding. “Yeah.”
Gabe leaned with his elbows on the table gave me a cocky grin. “Yeah, what?”
“I’m not gonna say it out loud,” I informed him primly.
“Tough customer. Okay, let’s try something else. On a scale from one to ten, how hard are you right now?”
I gave a half laugh and looked away for a moment, then flashed a bashful grin at him. “Six.”
“Liar. I’m at seven and a half right now,” he reported proudly.
I chuckled at his pained expression. “Fine. Maybe I am too, but I’m also confused,” I admitted. “Are you gay?”
He pulled a piece of bread apart and inclined his head. “Technically, I’m bi,” he replied in a matter-of-fact tone. “I’m guessing you are too, right?”
I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. I took another drink, then swallowed hard and tried again. “A couple of weeks ago I would have said no, but I was lying to myself. The truth is…y-yeah, I am.”
“Maybe you were just curious,” he offered.
“Maybe. But, it’s never been like that before. I mean, I’ve been attracted to other guys in the past, but I’ve never acted on it. Not like that.” I pursed my lips before continuing. “I want to blame the whole thing on alcohol, but it’s always been there. I just never lost control until you.”
He regarded me for a moment. His expression was kind and understanding. Then a roguish smile lit his eyes, making him look impossibly handsome. “So you do like me.”
“That might be an overstatement,” I retorted.
“Fine. You’re hot for me. That might actually be better.” Gabe squeezed my hand impulsively, then pushed an empanada onto my plate and spooned some mango salsa to the side. “Eat something. These are delicious, especially with the salsa.”