by AJ Rose
Wes ignored him, demanding, “Did you touch him?”
Nate’s expression turned to ice. “None of your fucking business.”
“You did. Are you out of your mind?”
“Nope,” Nate said with finality. “You have no idea how ridiculous you sound. I’ve chosen to ignore your warnings, thinking you’re misinformed, though it says a lot about you that you’d alienate someone because you believe the gossip.”
Wes set his half-finished beer on the counter and stood. “It’s not gossip. You’re forgetting I see more accidents and other shit that happens when people get killed than your average citizen, and I can assure you, the rumors are true. I don’t understand what they mean, or I’d be able to give you a better idea why to avoid him. But if you want to go off and dance with the devil, that’s your business. I’ll make sure I have a suit to wear to your funeral.” He turned to leave and Nate let him go, draining his beer and chucking it in the recycling bin with more force than necessary.
“You do that,” he retorted, but Wes had already left, closing the door emphatically behind him.
Nate swiped the rest of Wes’s beer and went down the hall to get ready for his date. As he showered, he tried to shake off his irritation, but Wes had ruined his good mood. As he dressed in his favorite jeans that showed his ass off in spectacular fashion and a button-down shirt he left open over a tight black tank top, he discovered a spot on his jawline he’d missed while shaving, a hole in the butt of his jeans where the pocket was coming away, and a deodorant mark on the tank from when he’d pulled it over his head. Finding something else to wear turned out to be more difficult than it should have been, and running the razor over his jawline again—with water only, since he didn’t have time to break out the shave gel—irritated his skin and made him itch.
He was fifteen minutes late leaving, wearing a pair of black slacks that felt too dressy for the occasion and a light blue V-neck sweater he feared would be too warm when they got to the club he’d scoped out the day before. Out of courtesy, he fired off a text to Mitch that he was running behind and climbed into the Jeep. They’d exchanged phone numbers and addresses the day before, and Nate drove to Mitch’s apartment with a scowl on his face, trying not to replay the conversation with Wes.
Mitch answered the door with a smile that fell as soon as he saw Nate’s expression. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, of course. Ready to go?” Nate tried to shake it off, but his smile was forced. He’d fake it until he relaxed. The beer and a half he’d already had helped a little.
Mitch hesitated, glanced behind him, and opened the door wider. “Come in for a couple minutes? I have to take Sadie out and make sure she’s shut away in my bedroom. She does okay in a kennel, but I don’t like to keep her cooped up when I’m gone for hours at a time.”
“Sure,” Nate said, stepping inside the apartment. It was small, the living room about half the size of his, and the kitchen cabinets could have used some updating. The space beside the kitchen intended for a table held a computer desk instead, with a laptop hooked to a large monitor and a wireless keyboard. A short hallway led to doors on each side and one at the end, open to reveal the foot of a bed and a sliding glass door leading to a balcony, overlooking the mountain. It was clean, and Mitch’s furniture was comfortable. But as far as personality went, this place had none. It honestly surprised Nate, considering how interesting Mitch was.
“Care for a drink?” Mitch asked.
“That’s okay. Nice place.”
Mitch made a face like he knew Nate was just being polite. “It’s really too small, especially considering I have Sadie. But it’s close to the bookstore and the park, and she usually goes to work with me if I can swing it. And it’s affordable. Drawback of living in a tourist destination, the options available are kind of abysmal.”
Nate nodded. “If I hadn’t gotten a tip from my buddy Wes, I’d have ended up paying more money for less room.”
“You’re lucky.” Mitch said, clipping Sadie’s leash to her collar. “Your apartment building is in high demand. Your timing must have been perfect to snag a spot there. Okay, I’ll be right back. Make yourself comfortable.”
Nate sat as Mitch went to take the dog out, standing in the open door for a few extra seconds, like he wanted to say something more. Apparently he thought better of it and took Sadie to do her business. While he was gone, Nate gazed around the room, noticing family photos on the end table and some of the books scattered about. He picked one up and smiled; it was Amy Lane’s Beneath the Stain. Nate had just gotten that one in ebook format. He flipped to the front and had to laugh. It was signed, with a large, wonky circle drawn on it, an arrow pointing to the circle declaring it a stain, and Amy’s name penned beneath that. The woman had a sense of humor, that was for sure. He replaced the book on the table carefully so as not to bend the cover. It surprised him Mitch would openly read a romance book, but then, Nate loved them. He knew there was judgment of romance readers but frankly, if the books he read didn’t have characters who weren’t afraid to have emotions and give a damn about their fellow humans, he wasn’t interested in reading them. Looked like he and Mitch had another thing in common.
When he returned, Mitch ushered Sadie into his bedroom and shut the door, then emerged into the living room with a somewhat nervous smile.
Standing, Nate rubbed his hands down his thighs. His palms were sweaty. He was actually a little anxious, but the good kind, not the bad. “You look really nice.”
“Thank you,” Mitch said. He wore a pair of skinny jeans Nate tried not to look at too closely or he’d end up staring, and a long-sleeved torso-hugging button-down with the sleeves rolled up. His hair was artfully mussed, hanging almost in his eyes.
Nate squinted. “Are you wearing eyeliner?”
“A little. Thought I’d try something new.” Mitch turned red and looked away, presumably searching for his wallet, phone, and keys, which he shoved in tight pockets.
“Don’t be embarrassed,” Nate said, snagging Mitch’s hand when he began to fidget. “It’s hot.” He bent down and kissed Mitch’s cheek. “We’re gonna have a good time tonight, okay?” With that promise, he relaxed his shoulders and let go of the lingering irritation at Wes. Nothing was going to ruin this evening if he could help it. Mitch deserved to go out and have a few drinks, have a good time with someone who wasn’t expecting him to touch them and get zapped or something equally stupid.
They stopped for dinner at The Widow’s Peak, and Nate pointedly ignored the stares as he and Mitch weaved between tables to a booth in the back. The hostess gave them a frozen smile, promised their server would be with them shortly, and scurried off.
Mitch sighed. “You do realize being seen with me means you’ll be the one getting gossiped about, right?”
Nate grabbed two menus from the stack propped between the salt and pepper shakers and the napkin dispenser, and passed one to Mitch. As he did, he rubbed Mitch’s fingers and then opened his menu with a careless shrug.
“Let them talk. They don’t know anything about me, so I don’t really care. In fact, if it takes the heat off you a little bit, I’d rather they talk about me.” He went back to the menu and considered loosening the reins on his usual dietary restrictions, since he planned to do plenty of dancing later.
“You’re serious,” Mitch said, his menu half open and apparently forgotten.
Nate looked up. “I don’t give a damn what they think. Let them talk.”
“Even if it means you’ll possibly have a harder time getting a job this week when the resort opens?”
He hadn’t considered that. “You think it will?”
Mitch shrugged. “Depends on what salacious rumors they come up with about you.”
“Well, if that’s the case, I wouldn’t want to work for such people.” He went back to choosing his dinner and pressed his foot to Mitch’s beneath the table, gratified when Mitch didn’t shy away. They were silent until Jenna approached with her no
tepad.
“Gentlemen, what can I get you to drink?”
Nate was happy she, at least, had a modicum of professionalism. He ordered a beer, and Mitch requested a frozen margarita.
As she hurried off to get their drinks, Mitch leaned forward. “Maybe if I get my drink frozen, the brain freeze will keep me from downing it too fast.”
Nate laughed. “Why are you worried about drinking too fast?”
Mitch smiled. “I’m nervous. It’s been a while since I’ve done this, and I don’t want to screw it up.”
Something inside Nate softened, and he lay his hand over Mitch’s. “We’ll have fun, no matter what anyone else thinks. Okay?”
“Okay,” Mitch agreed, smiling.
When Jenna returned with their drinks, Nate ordered a chicken quesadilla and fried green beans as an appetizer, and Mitch got a burger. She disappeared as though nothing was out of the ordinary, and despite needing to watch his spending, Nate decided she was getting a big tip.
“So what’d you do the last few days?” he asked, straightening and resting his arm across the backrest.
Mitch fiddled with the little plastic sword that speared the lime wedge in his drink. “Worked. Took a short trip this morning. Went to the park with Sadie when I got back. This weather won’t hold much longer, and she spends a long time in winter cooped up.”
“Where’d you go?”
“Um, the park?” Mitch asked, confusion drawing his eyebrows together.
“No, the short trip. I was just wondering if it was anywhere interesting.”
Mitch took a large mouthful of margarita through his straw. “Oh. Durango.”
“I’ve never been there. Is it nice?”
Mitch’s shrug seemed stiff, and Nate studied him as he answered. “It’s a lot like Caperville. Big ski season at Purgatory, but they’re a little more isolated than we are here. Durango’s a nice town.”
“Do you have friends who live there, or…?”
“Does it matter?” Mitch said. His tone was resigned to Nate pushing for details rather than irritated.
Nate studied Mitch’s closed-off face. “Uh, no, it doesn’t. I was, um, was just trying to make conversation. I’ve heard of Purgatory, but not the towns by it. I was just curious.” What’s in Durango he doesn’t want to talk about?
Thankfully, Jenna picked that moment to bring their appetizer, and Nate could look somewhere else without appearing offended while he turned over what he could have said to upset Mitch. He dunked the green beans in ranch and munched, looking around the bar. A few people cast them curious glances now and again, but overall, they were ignored. He tried to think of something else to talk about, not wanting to bring up another touchy subject, since it was clear Mitch didn’t want to reveal much about himself. Nate could understand that. They barely knew each other.
But we won’t get to know each other if only one of us will talk about…. His thoughts screeched to a halt. Yeah, okay, Nate had topics he didn’t think would make for a good time, either.
“I’m sorry,” Mitch said quietly, staring at the few green beans he’d put on his appetizer plate but was only pushing around with his knife. “I’m not very good at this dating thing.”
Nate smiled, knowing it looked plastic but offering it anyway. “Nothing to be sorry for. I understand it’s difficult to talk about yourself to someone you don’t know well.”
“It’s not interesting why I went to Durango today. I don’t have friends there. I was just running an errand.”
After a moment, Nate thought he understood. “Do they think of you there like people do here?”
Mitch looked up then, his eyeliner-ringed eyes big and soulful, but skittish in the way their focus bounced from Nate’s face to the booth at Nate’s back to the nearby tables, out the window, and returning to Nate’s face and the space behind him.
“That’s part of it. They don’t assume they know as much about me as Caperville people do, but that’s kind of worse. The stories are crazier. Anyway, I got back midafternoon and took Sadie to run around, then went home and poked on the Internet until it was time to get ready for tonight. I’m not all that interesting, really. When my brother calls from New York, he’s full of stories about the city, but I always have to say there’s nothing new with me.” Mitch’s mouth turned up in a shy smile, and Nate found himself responding. He understood the olive branch Mitch was offering, and his heart rate picked up.
“What does your brother do?”
“Morgan’s a paramedic. He started out wanting to be a doctor but quickly realized he wanted to be in the field. For a while, he planned to come back to work in the bookstore while he got his certification, but then he met Samantha and after that, switching his career track in New York was kind of a no brainer. Samantha is a saint; he works horrible hours.”
“So is it either medicine or books in your family?” Nate relaxed. Mitch’s people didn’t sound all that weird to him.
Mitch speared a green bean on his fork and dipped it. “No. My mom is an insurance agent, and my uncle works at Caperville Gardens. It’s a retirement home.”
The rest of their food arrived, and they dug in. It was Nate’s turn on the hot seat when Mitch finished his margarita and had a second one on the way.
“You mentioned your sister. Tate’s her name? What does she do?”
Nate swallowed a gluey ball of tortilla and cheese, his quesadilla no longer flavorful. “Nothing.”
“Oh? Is she traveling? Still in school?”
You can’t expect him to talk about his family if you won’t talk about yours, and he did bring up his brother. “She died six months ago.” The words still hurt, the hole from Tate’s absence giving a throb as though the blood had slowed from the wound, but a trickle still oozed every now and then when the edge of the scab caught on something.
Mitch’s eyes widened and he refused to look at Nate, taking an enormous bite of his burger. When his second margarita arrived, he sucked down half of it, and then groaned, jamming the heel of his hand into his eye. “Brain freeze.”
“Careful,” Nate said gently. “You’ll smear your makeup.”
“I kind of don’t care,” Mitch grumbled. “I’m sorry.”
“What for?” Nate asked. “It’s not like you could have known, and I gave no hints. Tell you what. Let’s leave all the family stuff for another date, shall we? Maybe it would help us both relax.”
Mitch took his hand away from a reddened eye, and his expression could only be classified as grateful. “That’d be great. Not that I don’t want to know more,” he hurried on. “I mean, I’m a good listener if you want to talk. What I mean is, I’m….” Mitch trailed off. “Probably treating you like everyone does when they find out, aren’t I?”
Nate cut another bite of his quesadilla. This one didn’t taste as bad as the last one, so he didn’t push his plate away. Even now, some days were touch and go whether he’d be able to stomach Tate’s absence. She was his twin, the mirror of himself, if not in looks then in personality. She’d gotten him in a way no one ever would, and now she was gone.
“It’s okay. I don’t think people know what to say when the subject comes up.”
This time, Mitch settled his hand on top of Nate’s. “I mean it. I’m a good listener.”
Nate nodded and smiled, small but genuine. “I’ll keep that in mind, but family stuff is for another time, remember? Tell me about college in California.”
Mitch launched into his experiences at the University of California at Irvine and his classes, the beach, and Orange County in general. They were comfortable the rest of the meal, and Nate was pleased at the number of times they touched—their feet, their hands, even once their knees, given Nate’s long legs.
When Jenna came over after a while, Nate was surprised to see it was pushing ten o’clock. “I’m not trying to rush you guys out, but you’re dressed like you’re going somewhere else, and I don’t know if you realize what time it is.” On weeknights, The Widow’s
Peak closed at midnight, with the kitchen closing at 10 p.m., but on a weekend, it was open as late as any bar.
“Thank you, Jenna,” Nate said. “We’ll take the bill now.”
“Together or separate?”
“Together,” he answered before Mitch could protest.
She sauntered off, and Nate winked at Mitch, who scowled. “You should at least let me kick in for some of it. My margaritas aren’t cheap and I had three.”
“You can buy me a drink at the club.” When he’d seen Mitch letting loose a little, he’d switched to water and nursed his last beer. One of them needed to be able to drive.
“You never mentioned where we’re going,” Mitch said as Jenna returned with the check. “Shouldn’t I be the one showing you around?”
“I just googled. It’s not like there are a whole host of places to go here.”
“True.”
Nate shoved enough cash into the payment folder to cover the bill and leave a generous gratuity, wrote a simple thank you on the receipt, and scooted from the booth. When Mitch stumbled getting out of his side, Nate gripped his arm to steady him and then tucked it around his elbow to escort him out of the restaurant. Heads whipped around faster than the little girl’s from The Exorcist, and Nate was glad Mitch was surprised enough not to notice anyone else’s reaction.
“I can walk, you know,” Mitch said teasingly. “I’m not such a lightweight.”
“Maybe I just want the excuse to touch you,” Nate replied. “Maybe I want everyone here to know I’m your date tonight. Maybe I’m the one who’s weak in the knees.”
