We Have Till Dawn

“Prepare yourself to be amazed.” He sat down across from me and opened the paper container with the loaded fries for me. “I don’t believe you will need ketchup.”

“You can’t have fries without ketchup.” No matter how much cheese and jalapenos someone had dumped on top.

“You certainly can,” he insisted firmly.

He’d picked a serving each of regular fries and battered fries for himself, and he was fucking adorable as he inserted a single fry into his mouth and closed his eyes in pleasure. He chewed slowly, and the way his jaw moved was nothing short of pornographic.

“Perfect crunch, every time,” he mumbled to himself.

I grinned.

This was what I wanted. Decadent sex in all its glory, but I needed sex to be personal these days. It was partly what kept that rock out of my stomach. I wanted to get to know Gideon better. I wanted to see him like this, eating fries, not worrying about others’ reactions or whatever molds he tried to fit into.

This was real.

I pulled a couple fries out of the melted cheese and threw them into my mouth, and I had to hand it to the man, he knew good fries. It was as if McDonald’s and Burger King had a love child. The greasy saltiness from one, and the flavor and crunch from the other.

“So, is this your number one spot in the city?” I asked, wanting to start a conversation.

He shook his head and stuck a straw into his soda. “But it’s possibly in the top ten.” He offered a look of disdain when I dipped a fry into my ketchup. “I’m just going to ignore that.”

I chuckled.

“What’s your number one spot in the city?” he asked.

So, we were still exchanging the insignificant trivia bits. I was fine with that.

“The tourist magnets,” I replied. “I love Times Square. I’ll go there sometimes just to watch people. It’s the center of the universe.”

“I believe the center of the universe is—never mind. You weren’t being literal.” He cleared his throat and picked another fry. He was suddenly avoiding eye contact too, and he shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “I wanted to bring you here for a reason. You’ve mentioned breaking the rules, and I need to confess that I’ve already broken them. My curiosity got the best of me after I saw your rehearsal in Brooklyn, so I looked you up.”

The words left him in a rapid rush, and then it was just silence. Even in my mind.

I didn’t know how to react, to be frank. Part of me was flattered and relieved, because it meant he was interested too, though I didn’t know how far that extended. Part of me was…surprised? Definitely. Either way, I wasn’t angry, and he looked like he was expecting anger.

“All right.” I sucked some salt off the edge of my thumb and smiled a little. “What exactly did you find out?”

He furrowed his brow. “That everyone calls you Nicky, not Nick. I found you on social media. You seem to be able to play countless instruments, and you’re very close with your older brother. Unfortunately, your Instagram is set to private, so I only saw the few photos you have on Facebook.”

Unfortunately.

I stifled my amusement as much as I could.

“You work as an instructor at The Fender Initiative, which appears to be a music school,” he went on. “Your friend Ruby posts a great number of photos with you in them, and you like happy hour and trying new restaurants.”

I let out a laugh, and I couldn’t argue with him. Ruby had early shoots this month, so we hadn’t been able to get together for drinks more than once or twice. It left us with quick lunches when she could duck out for half an hour. The other day, I’d met up with her outside the studio, and we’d tried the Indian place across the street.

“She’s one of my best friends, but work doesn’t allow us to hang out for very long,” I responded, still amused. “My hours at my brother’s academy are between noon and early evening, and hers are early mornings and/or late nights, so we grab food on the go, basically. We’ll see each other often but rarely for more than twenty minutes.”

“Sounds stressful,” Gideon noted.

I shrugged and chucked some fries into my mouth. “And yes, my brother runs the music school where I work.”

“You teach students to play instruments,” he stated.

“Correct.” I nodded and reached for my soda. “We have an exchange program going with two local schools, so that covers the early hours—at least for my brother. I only have a couple of those classes. Most of them start once regular school is out for the day.”

He hummed. “How many instruments do you play?”

Damn. I had to think. I scratched the side of my head and squinted. “Um…maybe twelve?” Gideon’s eyes widened, and I felt the need to clarify. “I’m not qualified to teach all of them,” I said. “But I can get by.”