“Okay, let’s go.”
I follow Beck to his car, and thankfully we don’t see anyone we know. If one of our teammates saw us right now, I have no idea how I’d explain us together, let alone dressed nice and headed off campus.
I could imagine Cohen and Rossi assuming we were headed to a club and asking to come along.
“How does Italian sound?” Beck asks as he backs out of the parking spot.
“Delicious.” My smiles are coming easier now, and I’m letting them happen more than I ever have around him. I guess that’s what orgasms do to a guy. “Know a place?”
“Yeah, it looks like a bit of a shithole, but the food’s good.”
It goes silent after that. And instead of the stifling awkwardness I’m expecting, it’s kinda chill. Relaxing. I glance over at where he’s driving and wonder what would happen if I reached for his thigh. Is that too much? I mean, if this is a date, then it would be expected. But if it really is two teammates who get each other off, then it could be crossing a line.
We pull up at the restaurant, and Beck’s right, it’s a shithole. All yellow brick and checkered red-and-white awnings. Inside, the lights are dim, covering everything in a dark yellow glow. The wood tables are chipped, and none of the chairs match.
A sweet older woman leads us to a booth, and the restaurant is packed. There’s only a couple of free tables. I wait for her to drop off the menus, take our drink orders, and leave before I lean across to Beck.
“It’s possible I’m gonna sound like a dick here, but this doesn’t seem like your kind of place.”
He takes a moment to look around. “I came in here drunk one night and orgasmed over the food. Then I assumed it was so good because by that point everything tastes good. But I came back and now …” He shrugs. “I like it here.”
“It has a weird charm to it.”
“No need to start being nice now.”
“No, really. It’s not every night I get to eat dinner surrounded by people with jaundice.”
Beck laughs. “Yeah, the lighting does make everyone look sick.”
“Except you.”
“What?” His blue eyes are bright.
I consider whether I should say what I’m about to or not. Fuck it. “You always look good.”
“Oh really?”
“And you know it.”
“Doesn’t mean I don’t want to hear it again.”
“Then you should have recorded me.” I pretend to look over the menu, but I’m pretty sure I’ll order the carbonara and be done with it. I’m way too aware of him to concentrate.
The woman comes back with our sodas and takes our orders.
When she leaves again, Beck kicks my foot. “Hey, Topher?”
“Yes, Teddy?”
“You know that I meant for this to be a date, right?” And holy shit, I’ve never seen Beck look as uncertain as he does tonight. The big eyes, the creased forehead—where is the confident guy I’m so used to bantering with? And while I have no idea what he means by asking me on a date, or being nervous, I do know that I like it.
“Then what are you doing over there?”
He swiftly slides out of his side and into mine, and by the time Beck is beside me, he’s back to being the guy I know. His full smile is on display as he plants his elbow on the table and angles his body toward me. “You knew this was a date.”
“I suspected.”
“And you came anyway.”
I think it over. “I guess I did.” I expect him to call me out on what that means, to push and tease, but instead, he lets it go completely.
“You want to know the real reason I like this place?” he asks.
“Sure.”
Beck looks down as he traces one of the gauges in the table. “It reminds me of what people say a home is supposed to be. The first time I walked in here I … felt warm inside.” He groans. “Geez, that’s lame.”
“It’s not lame.”
“It’s not a feeling I get a lot.”
I’m nervous as I lean forward. I have no idea what the people around us would think if they knew we were on a date, or if they notice I’m about to kiss him. I have no idea if someone is gonna cause a scene because of what I’m about to do. All I know is that Beck let me in, and I saw probably the most genuine side of him I’ve ever seen. And apparently when Beck is down, I have an overwhelming urge to boost him back up again.
I touch my lips to his. It’s fast, and not at all what I crave, but I hope he knows what I’m trying to make it mean. Which is stupid, because I don’t even really know.
I straighten up and move a bit closer. “You know sometimes I forget that just because you have money and you seem happy all the time, it doesn’t mean you don’t have things that get to you.”