by Beth Bolden
Why had he assumed that Gabriel wasn’t comfortable with friendships? He had so many, and Sean knew that. He’d just wanted to think Gabriel wasn’t just uncomfortable with him.
“Been busy,” Gabriel said. “You know we opened that food truck lot, right? Down by the Coliseum?”
“Yeah, yeah, I’d heard,” the guy said, leading them into the restaurant, and seating them at a prime table, right by the kitchen. “It’s going good, yeah?”
“Great,” Gabriel said as they sat down. “Sean here owns a truck that parks there, too. We’ve just been out looking at a couple of restaurant supply stores, seeing what kind of used stuff they’re carrying.”
“I know Gabe is all about the Italian all the time,” the guy said, smiling at Sean, “but you definitely don’t look related.”
“We’re not,” Sean said, chuckling.
“Mac,” the Asian guy said, shaking his outstretched hand. “It’s good to meet you.”
“I do wraps. Like salad wraps and stuff. Always looking to expand my ideas and my horizons, you know,” Sean said. Though from a quick glance at the menu, this guy was already brilliant. His mouth was watering just reading the descriptions. And the smells coming out of the kitchen? Sean had already determined that he was going to end up ordering half the menu and taking it home for leftovers.
“Oh, you see any decent fryers?” the guy asked.
“A few,” Gabriel said, pointing out the last place they’d been by name, and telling Mac that they’d had a few good ones for sale.
“Great, thanks,” he said. “I’ll check them out. You guys both want the iced tea?”
“I definitely want the iced tea,” Gabriel said. He smiled at Sean. “And so do you, it’s fruity and not too sweet and fucking incredible.”
“Alright, then,” Sean said. “It sounds like I’ll want the iced tea.”
Mac laughed, and patted Sean on the shoulder. “Gabe here won’t steer you wrong.”
When Mac went off to grab their drinks, Sean asked, “Where did you meet him?”
“He had a food truck, at first, right when I came to LA,” Gabriel said. “He was a kind of mentor to me, when I was first getting started. And then he got this place, and got out of the truck business.”
“Is that something you’d ever want to do?” Sean wondered.
“No way,” Gabriel said with an emphatic shake of his head. “Luca, my brother, he’s in charge of the family business back in Napa, and I’m not interested in being his little bitch.”
Sean raised an eyebrow. “He’s a little overbearing, sometimes,” Gabriel explained. “You know how older brothers can be.”
“I don’t, actually,” Sean admitted. “I don’t have any. Or any younger ones, either. Just me and my mom.”
“You were better off,” Gabriel said, leaning closer. “I felt like I was suffocating. Too many brothers and sisters and relatives.”
“Maybe.” Sean wasn’t convinced. But he could see Gabriel’s side of it, and he could see how growing up in the middle of so many people, all of whom had a vested interest in you being a certain way, would make being your own person hard.
Sean could see that he was still struggling with that. Still reliant on Nonna’s recipes. Still uneasy about his own obvious skill. Still hesitant to make his truck his own.
“What should we get?” Gabriel said, changing the subject, which Sean was fine with. They’d not argued at all, except for a little friendly, flirty banter when they’d been wandering the aisles of the supply stores.
“God, everything looks amazing,” Sean said, which was true. He was still skimming the appetizer section of the menu, trying to decide if he wanted the Korean barbecue gyoza or the avocado egg rolls.
“Can I . . .” Gabe stammered. “Can I make some suggestions? I know Mac said I’d take good care of you, but I would.”
Sean knew it was true; he’d never doubted it for a second. And that was a development that made him squirm uncomfortably in his chair.
“Of course you can,” Sean said, nudging him with a grin. “I was hoping you would. Otherwise I’m going to order everything on this menu and gain fifty pounds.”
Gabe shot him a cocky look that Sean swore a year ago had been completely unattractive, but now made his blood race. “I think we can work it off,” he said.
“What should we order, then?” Sean felt eager, almost gluttonous. And not just for the food.
———
It was so sexy to see Sean like this: open and laughing and eager.
When he’d first arrived in Los Angeles, and they’d met, Gabriel hadn’t known what Sean was dealing with. Nobody had known. But looking back, Gabe could see the effects of his grief. He’d been quieter, more withdrawn, a smile coming way less readily to his face when someone said something funny. He’d been suffering, and Gabriel hadn’t even known. Had probably thought—and definitely said—more than one unkind thing, all because he hadn’t had a clue what Sean was dealing with.
But over the last two years, he’d begun to come out of his shell. He’d formed friendships, he laughed now, just as easily as breathing, and he was vital and vibrant and so alive that Gabriel found he couldn’t even tear his eyes away.
“Fine, I guess,” Sean said with a laugh. “I guess we can get the drunken noodles, if you insist.”
“Here’s the thing,” Gabriel said, “these aren’t just any drunken noodles, they’re life changing drunken noodles.”
Sean raised an eyebrow. “What if I’m not in the mood for something so drastic?” he wondered, a teasing lilt to the edge of his voice.
It was almost embarrassing how much Gabriel wanted him to be—and in the mood for not just life-changing drunken noodles, but for life-changing relationships.
He could hear Ren’s voice in his head, telling him not to screw this up, and Gabriel knew that he couldn’t. That he shouldn’t. But with every day that went by, it felt worse to not tell Sean the whole truth. That they’d never just been hooking up. That Gabriel had more feelings than he knew what to do with. That the friendship—and everything else—developing between them felt like the most important thing in his life.
Most of all, that he should have changed his truck’s name the morning after Sean had told him why he couldn’t.
After they put in their order—including the drunken noodles—with Mac, Sean leaned back in his chair, an expression of bliss on his face as he sipped his iced tea. “You’re looking rather serious,” he said.
“Food this good requires contemplation,” Gabriel said.
“You should do something like this,” Sean said unexpectedly.
“What, open a restaurant?” Gabe laughed. “If I wanted to do that, I’d just go beg for a job back from my brother.” Which sounded terrible.
“No,” Sean said. “Some kind of fusion stuff. You’ve got the chops, you know, you could do it.”
“Fuck with Nonna’s recipes?” The very idea felt sacrilegious. Luca would come down from Napa and murder him. Slowly. Nonna would probably return from the grave to cheer Luca on.
“See?” Sean said. “That’s exactly what I mean. Was doing what we did with the Thai wrap, fucking with her recipes? No, it was using her meatballs to make something different. Something awesome. I think there’s no greater compliment out there than putting your own spin on something.”
“You don’t think I should make meatball hoagies anymore?” Gabriel was incredulous. He’d made his reputation on those sandwiches. They were praised, all over the city. People came from an hour away when they were craving one. And yet, at the very same time, the idea of being able to step out of the very tiny box he’d created was enticing. It was seductive.
Ren would love it, because he was bored to death with what they were doing.
Frankly, Gabriel could admit that sometimes he was too.
And wasn’t that part of the reason he’d wanted to branch out on his own? So he could be his own man? Make his own choices?
“I thin
k you should, but I think you should explore other stuff too,” Sean said. He pointed to the steaming plate of dumplings a waiter deposited on their table. “Like I’m pretty sure that traditionally they don’t fill gyoza with bulgogi.”
“They don’t,” Gabriel agreed.
“I’m not saying, change everything. I’m saying . . . just think about it, okay?” Sean said.
“Just because you’re excited to redo your whole menu doesn’t mean you need to redo mine,” Gabriel teased lightly as he opened his chopsticks, using them to grab a dumpling before Sean ate them all.
“You’ll be adding something new tomorrow,” Sean said slyly. “I’ll send over the wraps and the veg in the morning, by the way. And we’ve still got to finalize the spiced nuts.”
It was easy to switch gears; to focus on the new shared item they’d both be selling.
“How many meatballs do you think you’ll need?” Gabriel wondered.
“How many do you think I’ll need?” Sean teased.
“I’ll send Ren over with a couple hundred,” Gabe said. “That should last you for a few days, at least. And I can have him make the glaze too, if you want.”
“That’d be great,” Sean said gratefully. “I’ll probably be up late, working on the nuts. Trying to get them right, and then trying to make enough to last us a few days.”
“Don’t worry,” Gabriel said, reassuring him, “I’ll help. I said I would.”
“Right.” Sean shot him a grateful look. “I appreciate it a lot.”
“Hey, it’s partly my dish, too, right?” Gabriel said, reaching out and clasping Sean on the shoulder. “Don’t want to make you do it all.”
More food arrived then, the drunken noodles releasing a cloud of delicious steam, and the kimchee fried rice mounded in a delectable pile. The shrimp kung pao glistened in its sauce.
Sean stared at the food, entranced as it kept arriving.
“Think you ordered enough?” Mac said, appearing with a sly grin on his face. “Or should you get more to go?”
“Hey!” Gabriel’s outrage mingled with Sean’s laughter.
“The food looks incredible,” Sean said, reaching out with his chopsticks, spearing a shrimp and popping it in his mouth. “Tastes incredible.”
“Thanks,” Mac said warmly.
Gabriel had a feeling that he’d get a text from his old friend later, wanting to know what was going on between him and Sean. After all, he’d never brought a guy here before. But bringing Sean? Had felt like a total no-brainer.
“Do you want to go to any more stores?” Sean asked after they’d finished shoveling most of the food into their mouths. “Or are you good?”
“Actually, I’ve got a few more things on my list,” Gabriel said. He didn’t, not really, but he was unwilling to cut their afternoon short. Even if he’d already committed to helping Sean, that was work, and this was . . . well, it wasn’t work. “Technically,” he added, “it’s Ren’s list.”
Ren had been whining about some of their equipment lately, but then Ren liked to bitch about everything. Still, it wasn’t technically a lie.
“Alright,” Sean said, not looking disappointed in the least. “I’m down for more.”
“I just bet you are,” Gabriel teased, and Sean laughed.
And Gabriel thought to himself that if he could hear that sound every single day for the foreseeable future, he’d be a very lucky man.
———
A few hours and two stores later, they were almost back to Sean’s townhouse when his phone rang, and Gabriel saw Tony’s name flash across the screen.
“Hey, Tony,” Sean said, clicking answer on the car’s screen. “What’s up?”
“Just wanted to check in, because I’m putting in some signage orders,” Tony said, sounding distracted like he actually was at the sign shop. “I thought you might both want one for your new mashup.”
“Yeah, we do,” Gabriel said, without thinking.
“Oh, Gabe, you’re there too,” Tony said, sounding surprised. “I didn’t realize . . .”
“He was just helping me with something,” Sean interrupted.
Like he didn’t want to go into the details with Tony, Gabriel thought. And how could he blame Sean for that? He didn’t even want to go into the details with Tony. But it stung, anyway.
“Right,” Tony said, with an edge of a leer to his voice. “I just bet he was helping you.”
“Tony,” Gabriel cut in. “We want the signs.”
“Right, right, alright. I’ll have them make some up. Can you text me what you want it to say?”
“Sure,” Sean said. “We can do that.”
“A lot of we in this conversation,” Tony added.
“Thanks to you,” Sean retorted. “This was your whole idea, remember?”
It had been, originally, and God knew Gabriel hadn’t been a fan of it at first either, but it had been growing on him, doing this with Sean. To the point where he was actually really looking forward to shutting everyone’s interfering asses up with their great dish and getting to brag about the sales next time they all met at the Funky Cup.
“Oh yeah, I remember,” Tony said. “How could I forget?”
“Ugh,” Sean groaned after Tony hung up. “Sometimes I really don’t know why I like him so much.”
“You’re not alone,” Gabriel agreed with a grumble of his own. Why did it feel like Tony was always a stupid comment away from destroying all his hopes?
If you were honest with Sean, he wouldn’t be, Gabe’s conscience added unhelpfully.
“Well, I guess we better come up with something,” Sean said as he pulled into his driveway. “You got any bright ideas?”
“Yeah, I’ve got a few,” Gabriel said, and right after Sean shut the car off, leaned over the console and captured Sean’s mouth with his own.
They hadn’t kissed since the shower this morning. They’d barely touched, and Gabriel hadn’t realized how much he’d missed it.
But the way Sean groaned into his mouth and opened up, the kiss went from slow and sweet to so much hotter in an instant.
For a long minute, and then another, they kissed, Gabriel not even giving a shit that his neck was at a weird angle that would probably give him grief later, or that his knee was digging into the hard plastic of the console or even the fact that his phone was buzzing with what were almost certainly Tony’s texts, wondering where their description was.
Then Sean broke off, a bright smile on his face, his eyes sparkling. “I wanted to do that all day,” he confessed.
“Me too,” Gabe said softly. He considered saying more. Wanted to say more, but then Sean’s phone rang again, and the moment was broken.
Sean opened the door as he answered the phone. “Tony,” he said, a clear note of exasperation in his tone. “We said we’re getting it . . . okay, fine, we’ll get it faster, then.”
He hung up as he unlocked the door, Gabriel close behind him. “He is so goddamn impatient,” Sean complained as he pushed the door open. He stormed into the kitchen, clearly really annoyed by whatever Tony had said on the phone. “He actually had the nerve to tell me that he didn’t have time to wait for us to get our hands out of our pants.”
“Oh, well.” Gabe laughed nervously. “It’s like he’s got a freaking camera on us, or something.”
“Right?” Sean flopped onto the couch. “I guess we better come up with something now, before he decides to show up on my doorstep.”
“I think we could go with something simple like, Thai meatball crunch wrap,” Gabriel suggested, sitting down next to Sean and starting to type on his phone. “We’ll need a description, too.”
“I’ll text you over a list of the ingredients,” Sean said. “And we’ll need a price.”
“Oh, shit, right.” Gabriel scrubbed a hand over his face. “I guess we’ll have to fudge that. I don’t have my laptop with the pricing spreadsheet here.”
Sean looked up at him, surprised. “You have a pricing spreadsheet
?”
“Well, yeah. Don’t you?” Gabriel asked.
But Sean just shrugged. “Not really,” he said. “I mean, I know the idea behind it. Cost of your raw materials, cost of your time, times the multiplier you’ve picked.” He looked contemplative. “I just wouldn’t have expected it out of you, I guess.”
“We wouldn’t have a string of successful restaurants without a pricing structure,” Gabriel admitted. “And it’s not really mine, it’s something I borrowed from Luca and fussed around with, honestly. But yeah, I do think it helps.”
“I should do that too,” Sean said with a resigned sigh. “I know I should. Just . . . there’s only so many hours in the day, you know?”
“I could help you with it,” Gabriel offered, before he could stop himself. He shouldn’t be insinuating himself into Sean’s life before he told him the truth. What he really needed to do was take Sean’s hand in his and confess everything. That he’d liked him from the very beginning, but now, those feelings had morphed into something so much deeper and stronger. Like had become love, so easily that Gabriel wasn’t even sure where one ended and the other began.
But the sudden anxiety blooming in his stomach stopped him.
“Thank you,” Sean said, and paused. “You’re just really great, you know?”
“I thought we agreed I was a stubborn asshole still.”
“Yeah, that ship has definitely sailed,” Sean said wryly.
“Well, what should we do about the price? Tony will need it today, and I don’t have the spreadsheet. We could use something on my menu as a jumping-off point?”
“Yeah,” Sean said. “I like that idea.”
They compared the price of Sean’s wraps to Gabriel’s rolls, and made some adjustments for the vegetables, subtracting out the cheese cost, and Gabriel was really pleased with the number they came up with. It lined up with some of his other menu items and fell right in the middle of Sean’s offerings, too.
Ten minutes later, they had sent the text to Tony containing everything he needed for the signs.
“Well, that’s done,” Sean said, his eyes glimmering with mischief. He leaned in, brushing his nose against Gabe’s playfully. “What should we do now?”
