Page 24

Spencer sat at a high-top table drinking his beer and casually watching the people around him. Ian had gone back to friends’ night for the first time since his parents had died, and while Spencer had been invited, he hadn’t wanted to intrude on what he figured would be a fairly emotional time. But after talking to Ian about it, he’d also decided to try out some of what their nonmonogamy could entail, seeing as how he had the night to himself.

Suddenly Marty appeared at his elbow. “Did you want any food?”

“Actually, uh.”

Ian liked this part—the asking-out part—but Spencer was starting to think it probably definitely wasn’t for him. “I was wondering when you get off.”

Marty quirked an eyebrow but to his credit didn’t laugh. “I’m here all night. But I get my break in half an hour. Why?”

Spencer wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans. “I just, uh, wanted to chat, but I realized I don’t have your number or know anyone who does. Which is weird when you think about it, right?”

Maybe sensing that Spencer was about to panic, Marty laid a hand softly on his knee. “Meet me out back at nine.”

Spencer nodded and handed Marty his card to close his tab so he’d be ready to leave in half an hour. That was just enough time to wonder if he should abandon this idea altogether. He fiddled with his phone in his hand. He considered texting basically everyone he knew. But he had no idea what he wanted anyone to say to him. He wanted to text Ian to ask how the fuck he asked people out so confidently, but Ian was dealing with his own shit that night. So Spencer just finished his beer and waited until it was time to leave.

He found Marty leaning against the building next to the employee entrance, dressed in his usual white T-shirt and jeans, looking at his phone. Spencer had wondered vaguely if seeing Marty outside of the bar would affect his attraction to him. Not that they’d made it more than two steps outside of the bar. But no, Marty was still hot outdoors. “Hey.”

“Hey.”

Marty looked up and stood up off the wall. “Is everything okay?”

Right, because he had no idea what Spencer wanted to talk to him about. “Oh, yeah.”

Spencer chuckled nervously. “I wanted to see if you’d like to go out with me. I just didn’t want to ask while you were working because that felt like sexual harassment.”

Marty looked over his shoulder at the door to his workplace.

“Okay, so this isn’t my most elegant plan.”

Spencer stuck his hands in his pockets. He was absolutely going to have to ask Ian for tips next time he saw him.

“Forgive me for eavesdropping, but haven’t you and Cat been talking about some guy you’re dating?”

Marty folded his arms over his chest, looking particularly unimpressed with Spencer’s bullshit, which was a look he generally reserved for patrons who got drunk and rowdy.

Spencer swallowed. This was the part he thought would be hardest—explaining his relationship with Ian without hurting Marty’s feelings. “I’m with Ian. We’re together. But, uh, we’re not monogamous, so if you wanted to come out with me, it would be, uh, more of a . . .”

Marty’s mouth formed a loose O. “Spencer, are you asking me for a hookup?”

“Fuck, I’m fucking this up. Yes. Unless that’s not what you want. In which case, I’m really sorry, and we should pretend this never happened because Cat will literally kill me if we can never come to this bar again because of me.”

“Hey.”

Marty took a step closer to him and laid a hand gently on his elbow. “You realize I’ve been hitting on you pretty much since the first time you sat down at one of my tables, right?”

“Uh, yes, I gathered that.”

“I never thought you’d have the balls to do anything like this, but it’s a good look on you.”

Marty was smiling now, and Spencer couldn’t quite tell because of how dark it was behind the building, but he thought Marty’s eyes held something a bit dangerous. “Give me your phone.”

Spencer pulled his phone out of his pocket and unlocked it before handing it to Marty.

Marty entered his number and texted himself. “Now you can ask me out away from my workplace.”

Spencer laughed at his boots. “I’ll text you.”

“You do that.”

Marty went back into the building.