Free immediately spotted Hart’s motorcycle. He took a deep breath and released it slowly. Gosh, he was so fed up with not knowing where he stood, he almost felt like running in there and yelling in Hart's ear to ask if they could be more than friends. Was the man at least curious?
“Talk to me, FreeBaby. Are you not ready to put yourself out there with a large guy yet?” Tech asked him, pushing the bridge of his black-framed glasses higher on his nose. He turned off the engine but made no move to open his door. Instead, he turned toward him and watched his face carefully.
It reminded Free of their days when they’d shared a room, hell, shared their lives at MIT. The rest of the world didn’t matter if one of them was upset about something. Free shook his head. “I’m ready. I’m not intimidated by him at all. I mean, everyone can’t have all these amazing stories about the guy, and he surely wouldn’t be God’s best friend if he was an asshole. He really ticks all the boxes for me, you know what I mean?”
“Oh yeah. I know just what your type is.” Tech smirked. “You probably dream about that long beard of his.”
Free shoved him. “I wanna get to know him like all of you. And if he just wants to be friends then I’m all right with that.”
“Bullshit.”
“Shawn, you know I have to be careful, but I’m for real this time. I’m gonna go for it with Hart.” Free stiffened his spine.
“Okay, well, let’s hear your plan, maybe I can help. You always have some type of strategy for any and everything. So, spill it. I know Hart pretty well, I might can have some insight.”
Free shook his head, but a slight smile started to spread on his lips. This was just like old times.
Hart
“He did say he was coming, right?” Hart asked God again when he shoved by him to take his next shot.
“Yes, man. Damn.” God gave him an incredulous look. “I told you he was in the break room earlier today. Didn’t you ask him yourself?”
Hart bounced his leg nervously. He was trying to appear casual, perched on the bar stool next to the pool table, but he wasn’t. He kept one eye on the front door as his stomach churned at the nerves inside. Why’d I bring my bike? I need a stronger drink.
He glanced across the spacious sports bar at their teams lounging around the six tables they’d pushed together. Thirty minutes ago, Stacy and Aaron, their regular servers, had placed four platters of wings and an already sliced foot long submarine sandwich among them. There was nothing left except garnishes and scraps. Hart was glad they were all over there, too lazy to move, because he needed the time alone with his stress. So he could have his small breakdown away from judging eyes.
“I did ask him. I said exactly what you told me to say. I even said the first round was on me.” Hart squeezed the bridge of his nose. He never thought he’d be taking dating advice from God but there he was, sort of desperate. Free had been in the office for over two months and he was making acquaintances fast. He was so easy-going, always willing to help, no matter how big or menial the job. Just the kind of man he preferred. But when Hart was in front of Free, his brain couldn’t keep up with his mouth, and he’d always say something dumb, “He looked like he was okay with the idea.”
God didn’t say anything else, he just sank the six ball in the corner pocket then proceeded to put away the two and four before he finally missed. He came over with his long hair flowing over his shoulder and grabbed his mug of Blue Moon, finishing the last half of it. God released a loud belch then sat on the stool next to him.
Hart glanced toward the door again. Nothing. Where the hell is he?
“Maybe he and Tech made other plans.”
“Steele’s downtown, so Tech has no other plans. They’ll be here,” God replied coolly, while he held his hand up to Aaron for another beer.
Hart briefly wondered what it’d be like to have a man he was crazy about and felt the same for him. Tech and Steele hadn’t been together a year, but they couldn’t get enough of each other—at work and at home. Hart considered himself a pretty optimistic guy, but he couldn’t rid himself of the doubt as he had the audacity to set his sights on the sexiest man to ever come into the station. He glanced around the room to see if maybe he’d missed Free come in, but he still didn’t see him.
There were plenty of good-looking, well-built men there, and enough women to keep the straight men happy, but Pubs was a LGBTQ-friendly bar. The two women who owned it were married and didn’t tolerate an ounce of hatred in their establishment. Not to mention it was smack in the middle of what they’d nicknamed ‘blue central’ because there were cops and law officials all over the area. Their precinct was literally one street away. SWAT headquarters was less than four miles away, and the courthouse and city jail were around the corner.