When Dex tried to speak, Jag put a hand over his mouth, because was done with this silly argument. He was about to meet a man who he might mate with for life and needed to focus on making a good impression.
“So if I like him, if he’s of quality stock, can I take him? Would you drive us home? Your kind goes everywhere by car, and the junkyard is too far to walk back for someone not used to long treks.”
Dex snorted. “Quality stock.”
Shane switched off the engine and twisted his body to look at them with a deep frown. “No. No, you can’t. He’s not a cow. If you like each other, you can agree to meet up again, and that’s that.”
“But—but what if they want to fuck? Come on, don’t be like that,” Dex appealed to Shane as soon as he tore Jag’s hand from his face.
“No one’s gonna go with him to his den after the first date! Most people aren’t like you, Dex! Also, I’m sure there’s a restroom in this restaurant, if they’re desperate.”
Jag cocked his head. “Are you saying I should pee on him to mark him if I like him? Will that be enough—?”
“No! Don’t pee on him! Jesus Christ!” Shane yelled, and Dex started laughing like a maniac.
Jag scowled. Seemed like he couldn’t do anything right. “Fine! I just wasn’t sure what you meant. It’s not my fault you’re not talking clearly.”
Shane’s phone made a little trill, and he checked it. “He’s at the restaurant. Just go and try to have fun. Worst case scenario, this will be a learning curve for you.”
After watching Dex’s video, Jag’s eagerness to win over his date was significantly more urgent, and he left the car at the same time as the blond fuck machine.
Dex waved at Shane. “I’ll find my way back, don’t wait up!” he said and was off into the night like a tomcat that just caught a whiff of a female in heat.
Shane exhaled and met Jag’s eyes through the open window. “I’m gonna stay here. He’ll be wearing a blue T-shirt with a rabbit,” he said and pointed to a building lit in the back by a faint lamp. “That’s the place you’re gonna meet at. Get in from the street and act like I told you. Someone will ask you to pick your food and drink, and you will need to pay before you both leave. Come back here if you need help,” he said before handing Jag a little folded piece of paper. Money.
Jag had never eaten out before, but he’d seen it happen in movies he’d watched with Frank, and the process seemed pretty straightforward. Still, his hand was clammy around the bank note as he made his way toward the restaurant, annoyed by the pointless formality of the occasion.
If they were out in nature, he could have proven his worth by hunting or foraging their food, and then prepared it for the man he was to entice, but the modern world shunned such practical skills in favor of owning flimsy pieces of paper. The fact that his date had chosen to wear a rabbit on his T-shirt was promising though, because only one man could play predator tonight.
Jag took one more deep breath to clear his mind of the intense sex video Dex had showed him. There was no point thinking about fake men on a screen when the real deal sat at a table, awaiting him.
He stalled at the edge of the parking lot, his eyes focused on the endless flow of bodies in the street ahead. When they talked at once, it sounded like a cacophony of spooked birds rising from the trees to escape the clutches of a predator. Yet the humans seemed calm, as if they felt there was safety in numbers.
And then there were the engines. Even in the remote junkyard, the buzz of the nearest highway remained a constant nuisance, but that sound came from far away at least, whereas the noise of the massive human colony was like trees falling over during a torrential storm. And yet, no one else seemed to notice the chaotic nature of this place.
Eager to get out of the street, he walked up the two steps leading to a glass door and entered the restaurant, which, while filled with strangers, at least didn’t remind him of an ant colony. He was startled by the jingle of a bell hung at the entrance, but his attention was instantly captivated by lamps in irregular shapes. They reminded him of massive, hollowed-out butternut squashes and were dotted by small bits of colorful glass.
He was about to look for the owner of the establishment and tell him how pointless it was to use an alarm in a place frequented by strangers around the clock, but then a man waved at him from a table standing by a large wall painting of camels marching through the desert.