In the Distance

by Eileen Griffin

  His eyes crinkled up as he continued to laugh, most likely remembering one of the stories he’d vowed to keep away from Ethan’s ears. The tension I’d felt in my neck and shoulders was slowly starting to ease.

  Crystal finally brought our drinks and a basket of bread twists. I hadn’t eaten since this morning, and now that I had relaxed a little, my stomach rumbled in hunger.

  “You ready to order?”

  No. I pretended to look over the menu again, desperately wishing I wasn’t a nobody with nothing to his name except the twenty-dollar bill in my wallet. As if reading my thoughts, Trevor turned to look at our server and smiled.

  “Tell me, Crystal, what’s your favorite thing on the menu? My best friend is a chef and he told me to always order what the server suggests.”

  Crystal’s flirty smile made me uncomfortable as she laid on the charm with Trevor.

  “Well, the special of the day is the pecan-crusted amberjack, but my personal favorite is the blackened trout with sautéed crab meat.”

  Trevor asked about one of the other dishes. Crystal leaned over his shoulder with a seductive smile on her face, her cheek mere inches from his as she pointed out several different dishes. Did he know the effect he had on her? Was that the type he went for?

  Trevor finally pointed at something and nodded, snapping the menu closed before handing it to her. “We’ll take two of those.”

  I had no idea what he’d ordered and was too embarrassed to ask. What could I say? “Sorry, could you tell me what you just ordered for us? I was too busy imagining you naked and wondering if you prefer guys or girls.” Yeah, no. That was something better kept to myself, thank you very much.

  Crystal flashed Trevor one last smile before she walked off. I picked up one of the bread twists to give myself time to come up with something to talk about now that we were alone, and instantly began coughing as the cayenne pepper hit my throat. I lunged for my water glass, guzzling it as fast as I could. Trevor laughed and pushed his water glass across the table toward me.

  “That hot, huh?”

  I eyed the breadsticks again and shook my head. “Trust me, I like spicy food. I just wasn’t expecting an explosion of cayenne to hit me all at once.” Or my embarrassing reaction to it. Oh, God. Just kill me now.

  Trevor picked up a breadstick and nibbled the end off. Even though I tried not to, I couldn’t help watching him while he took a bite.

  “If you like spicy food, there are some kick-ass Thai restaurants here in Seattle. A guy I went out with a few times took me to this one over on Fifth I swear rivals some of the places I’ve eaten at in New York.”

  Guy? Score! The revelation helped ease the tension I’d been feeling. Unable to stop myself, I found myself leaning my elbows on the table just to be closer to him.

  “I’ve never been to New York—never been out of the Seattle area except to visit my mom’s family in Portland—but Jamie talks about it all the time. Even Ethan admits the food is good there.”

  Crystal came back to fill up our water glasses, but Trevor didn’t even look up to acknowledge her. I shook my head, barely suppressing a smug grin when she left our table looking a bit dejected.

  “You’d love New York. I mean, it can be crazy and it definitely isn’t for everyone, but I wouldn’t want to live anywhere else. Did Jamie ever tell you about the time we almost got kicked out of a toy store? No? Let’s just say we got a little carried away.”

  I couldn’t imagine my straitlaced boss almost getting kicked out of a toy store, and my stunned expression only made Trevor’s smile grow.

  “Don’t believe all the stories you hear about your boss being the good little boy everyone thinks he is. He had his fair share of fun when we first got back to the States from Paris.”

  I listened as Trevor launched into story after story about growing up in New York. Before I knew it, we had both finished our dinner and not once had the conversation lagged. Crystal returned to take our plates, hovering near Trevor’s chair as she listed our dessert choices. I was already full to the point of bursting and was about to tell her no thanks since the meal was already well on its way to triple digits, but Trevor had other plans.

  “We’d like one white chocolate bread pudding. Oh, and a cup of your strongest coffee, please.”

  Crystal must have seen this as her in since she leaned in closer and winked at Trevor. “Our chicory coffee is guaranteed to keep you up for hours. You got any plans later to fill up all that free time you’ll have once it kicks in?”

  There was no reason for me to be feel threatened by Crystal’s attention to Trevor, but the knowledge that Trevor was available for someone, someone who could give him a lot more than I could, hit me harder than I’d expected it to.

  Trevor looked at me. “Actually, we do. Tyler? You want a cup of coffee, too?”

  Trevor’s mouth quirked up into a smirk. I wasn’t going to read too much into his comment, but I also wasn’t going to lie and say it didn’t make my stomach do a little flip.

  “Um, no. No thanks.”

  Trevor turned back to Crystal and smiled. “Just one coffee and the dessert, then. Thanks.”

  Crystal straightened up and walked away, her smile replaced by a scowl. I was certain she was either cursing the universe for the injustice of all the cute ones being gay or she was running through the hour we’d been here, wondering where the hell she’d gone wrong with Trevor.

  Once she was out of earshot, Trevor leaned back in his chair and laughed. “Well, that was interesting.”

  Suddenly the lights dimmed and a group of musicians walked out on the small stage near the bar. Within minutes, all conversation slowly drifted away across the restaurant as soft, soulful jazz filled the room.

  Trevor stood up and dragged his chair around to my side of the table. Sitting next to him like this, my body ached to get closer to him, but my mind came up with a million reasons why I shouldn’t. I barely noticed when Crystal brought our desserts, too focused on trying not to hyperventilate from Trevor’s body so close to mine. I had limited experience with this stuff, if you could call the “Oh God, I have no idea what I’m doing but this feels too good to stop” kissing and over-the-clothes groping with Keith in my bedroom right after graduation actual experience. Being with him had answered my question as to whether I was really gay or just curious, but it had also sealed my fate with my parents when they’d walked in on us kissing. Once I’d hit the streets, I’d been too scared to even talk to anyone, let alone get physical with them. Even though my body desperately wanted there to be more going on between Trevor and me, my head kept screaming this was just a dinner out with a friend to celebrate his new client.

  Trevor leaned in to whisper in my ear, his knee gently pressing against mine, “Thanks for coming out to celebrate with me tonight.”

  I was trying to come up with a casual, funny reply when I turned to face him, immediately losing my train of thought. I’d spent so many years blending into the background, looking anywhere but into someone’s eyes, just in case they saw the real me lurking behind the “normal” facade I’d perfected. But Trevor’s eyes, light brown with a hint of caramel that bled into mahogany, were so expressive and warm, I didn’t want to look away. I found myself simply nodding instead of delivering the witty retort I’d plan to make. He chuckled and turned back to face the band, softly tapping his foot to the beat of the music. With each tap, his knee brushed against mine, making it impossible for me to concentrate on anything except for the sudden tightness in my jeans.

  I was just about to make up an excuse to go to the bathroom to get myself under control when Trevor’s leg stilled, followed by a soft moan, just barely audible over the music. His eyes were closed, an expression of ecstasy on his face. If my jeans had felt tight from just his knee brushing against mine, they were absolutely cutting off my circulation now in response to
the pornographic sounds and expressions he was making. I closed my eyes, but all I could see was the sensuous curve of his mouth twisted in pleasure around the fork.

  “You’ve got to try this.”

  As I struggled to breathe, I could tell, even with my eyes closed, that he’d shifted closer to me. I tried to ignore it—ignore the way I wanted to lean into him even though I was mortified by the thought of him knowing just how aroused I was—when I couldn’t stand it anymore. I finally opened my eyes and turned toward him only to find him smirking at me, a fork filled with a bite of bread pudding poised near my lips. As if challenging me, Trevor quirked up an eyebrow and slowly moved the fork closer to my mouth.

  I could do this. It was only dessert. And if I’d learned anything about Trevor from listening to Jamie over the past year, it was that Trevor liked to flirt. If it moved and breathed? Trevor would flirt with it. It had nothing to do with me and everything to do with the kind of person he was. Even though it stung, it helped to know Trevor would have done this with anyone he went out to dinner with.

  A little deflated but unwilling to back down, I held his gaze and opened my mouth as I leaned closer to the fork. The moment the dessert hit my tongue, I closed my eyes and moaned. The bread was both dense and silky, with the perfect combination of sugar and cream. Trevor watched me the entire time, his eyes only drifting down to my lips after I’d swallowed the last little bit and licked my lips to get all the remaining chocolate sauce off them. I picked up the spare fork resting on the side of the dessert plate and scooped up my own bite as I turned my attention back to the jazz band.

  I’m not sure how long we sat there, sharing the bread pudding as the music swelled around us. When our forks finally scraped against the clean plate, I realized this had been one of the best meals I’d had in a long time. I had just turned around to thank Trevor for the dinner when I saw him slip his credit card into the bill folder. He’d said all along dinner was his treat, but I couldn’t help the sick feeling in my stomach. Once he’d signed the check and closed the bill folder, I leaned in and mumbled about being exhausted and needing to get home.

  He paused for a moment, a look of confusion on his face, but then he nodded and pushed back from the table. We walked out of the restaurant and to the car in absolute silence. Thank God he turned on the radio once we got in the car, because I really didn’t think I’d be able to manage a coherent sentence, let alone a conversation with him.

  By the time we reached my apartment, I was ready to bolt from the car. But before I did, I took a deep breath and looked at him. “Thanks for tonight and congratulations on everything with Natalie. I’m sorry I’m not better company, but I guess working all those doubles along with my final exams is finally catching up to me.”

  I’d turned to leave, but a warm hand gently grasped my forearm.

  Reluctantly, I looked back at him. Even in the dim light of the car, he was breathtakingly handsome. He leaned closer, his hand still on my arm, and pulled me closer to him. “Hey, you okay? You’ve been quiet since we finished dessert.”

  I shook my head, trying to get the words out so I could just get out of the car and away from how good he smelled. “I’m good. Really. Just tired.”

  He studied my face, looking for something to tell him what was going on, but I didn’t offer anything more. When I thought he was finally going to release my arm, he surprised me by pulling me even closer, lips brushing my cheek as he whispered, “Thanks for spending tonight with me. And if I don’t get a chance to see you before I leave, Merry Christmas, Tyler.”

  I should have turned toward him, giving him access to my lips instead of just my cheek. It was the moment I’d been fantasizing about all evening. With one simple gesture, Trevor had opened a door I should have been eager to walk through. Except I couldn’t. Instead, I froze. His breath against my cheek and neck. The musky, vanilla accents of his cologne mixing in with his natural masculine scent. The warmth of his hand as it bled straight through my clothing and seared me with a heat that had nothing to do with his body temperature and everything to do with how badly I wanted him.

  He paused, and without another thought, I reached for the door handle and flew out of the car. It was a dick move. An immature, forever-sitting-at-the-kids’-table dick move, but I couldn’t stand being in the car one more minute.

  With each step I took up the stairs, I went over the entire evening and came back to the same conclusion I’d had when I’d fled the car. Trevor was a flirt. I’d seen him in action enough times to know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, he was a flirt. But for a moment, just a moment, I’d wanted all of it to be real. I’d wanted Trevor to actually want me there as a date and not just the poor kid who worked as a sous-chef for his best friend. Maybe it was shitty of me, but I wanted Trevor to ask me out because of me, not just as a stand-in warm body when Jamie wasn’t available. The closer I got to my apartment door, the heavier I felt. Because the truth was, as certain as I was that Trevor didn’t really want me, I still wanted him. Even though I knew I was just a charity case.

  Chapter Ten

  Trevor

  What in the actual fuck just happened?

  I sat in my car and watched Tyler disappear into his apartment building, completely lost by how badly I’d misjudged the situation. I’d had no expectations of anything more than dinner happening tonight. Ethan would call bullshit, but I hadn’t invited Tyler out so I could score some action in the front seat of my rental car. In fact, it was just the opposite. Sure, he wasn’t the most talkative guy I’d been around, but I was interested in the little he did say. And I hadn’t needed to perform or sell anything. Twice now we’d been out, and twice I’d been surprised how much I enjoyed just being around him.

  “Fuck a damn duck and call me Fred.”

  I slammed my head back against the headrest and scrubbed my hand over my face. “Goddamn it. Way to screw the pooch, Pratt.”

  I was such a fucking idiot. I’d asked Tyler out to celebrate with me. Celebrate. That’s all. I’d railed on both Jamie and Ethan for even insinuating I’d put the moves on their sous-chef. And when all was said and done, what had I done? I’d fucked it all to hell, that’s what I’d done.

  The night had started off rocky, but had gotten better after Tyler had realized I didn’t give a shit about his age. In fact, everything about him screamed older, rather than younger. So he wasn’t legal to drink? Big fucking deal. In my experience, that didn’t mean squat. I knew guys my age who didn’t have half as much of their shit together in comparison to Tyler. So, instead of taking a step back, I found myself wanting to scratch even deeper beneath the surface to find out what made Tyler tick. Once the jazz band had started playing and we were sitting side by side, it was next to impossible not to lean against him. Then the dessert came, and I’d just stopped thinking. All I could think when I first tasted that bread pudding was how much I wanted to watch his expression when he took his first bite. And holy fucking God, the way his lips wrapped around the tines of the fork? The way his head tipped back slightly as his eyes closed, slowly savoring the bite I’d fed him? And then that low guttural moan, so unlike anything I’d heard come out of his mouth since I’d first met him over a year ago? All I could think about from that moment on was getting that sound out of him again.

  And so what had I done? I’d fucked it all up by going in for the kill with someone who either didn’t want to have anything to do with me sexually, or was scared off his fucking rocks that I really was the tramp Ethan had accused me of being. Either way, I’d fucked up.

  I took one last look at his apartment and debated going up to explain, but what would I have said? “Hey, Tyler. Sorry I spooked you earlier. I promise I’m not a manwhore, but...” But what? I really had intended to kiss him, and not just on the cheek. If he hadn’t pulled away, if he had asked me to come up, there’s no way in hell I would have said no in that moment. And that wa
s exactly the reason why I had to pull away from the curb right now and get as far away from Tyler’s apartment as possible. I’d meant what I said at the restaurant; his age wasn’t a big deal to me. But couple our age difference with the fact he was the adopted brother of my best friend, and the wisest move was to walk away.

  I had no idea where I was going, but I was wired after what had just happened and the thought of being trapped in a hotel room with too much time on my hands didn’t sound like a very enticing proposition. At the next stoplight, I pulled out my phone and searched for the nearest club. I needed a distraction and I wasn’t going to find it sitting in a hotel by myself. A few more taps narrowed down the club of choice in Capitol Hill and I entered the address in my maps app. The closer I got to the club, the more wound-up I felt. When it came into view, I all but leaped out of the car, tossing my keys to the valet jockey and palming the bouncer’s hand with a fifty as I breezed through the front doors.

  I’d barely crossed the threshold when the music assaulted me. The heavy bass reverberated in my chest until my entire body was thrumming with the energy pulsating on the dance floor. The place was jam-packed. Just like in New York, there were guys dressed in leather harnesses and jeans, guys with bared chests and barely there shorts, chicks dressed in furry bras and boots, and one spectacularly dressed rainbow-clad unicorn twirling in the middle of the throng of sweaty bodies. One of the guys caught my attention and curled his fingers in a seductive come-hither move. He was shirtless, with tight, black leather pants that looked painted on. His dance partner had his back to me and seemed completely oblivious to the invitation I’d just been given, but it didn’t matter. I needed a few minutes, and a few drinks, under my belt before I joined the organized chaos on the dance floor, so I shook my head and turned my eyes from the dance floor.

  As soon as I could, I signaled a waiter in silver boy shorts for a drink. A few minutes later I had a double whiskey neat in my hands. Before I could even say thank you, he winked and sashayed as he made his way around the perimeter of the club back to the bar. The whiskey burned as it slid down my throat, helping my mind focus on the scene in front of me instead of the scene I’d left back at Tyler’s apartment.