Page 18 of The Sin Eater
His is different, a flat green disc wrapped in clear plastic. “You’ve been missing out.” He slides the candy between his lips, and a new kind of tension grows between us.
“Apparently.” I’m caught by his gaze, a mouse trapped by a hawk. His sharp features are even more defined, his eyes dark and dangerous, his lips soft. “Let me buy you dinner,” I say, the question taking me by surprise. It knocks off a couple of bullet points, though. I do want to get to know himandI have a weird need to figure out what really went on here tonight.
Somehow the white lollipop stick makes his sly smile even hotter. “Did you just ask me out?”
This is about as close as he’s come to acting like I’m more than something he’d scrape off the bottom of his shoe.“Sure, if your answer is yes.”I must be a secret masochist. “We can hit the Deluxe.”
His eyes slide shut. “I’m having trouble making the shift fromyou’re a naughty boytolet’s hang out.”
Hell if I’m going to give away my secret agenda, no matter how right he might be. “This is my way of apologizing.”
He slings his backpack over his shoulder, gazing anywhere but at me.
“Come on.” I hope I sound encouraging and not like he’s making me beg.
The lollipop stick shifts from one side of his mouth to the other. “Weather’s shit. We’ll have to Uber.”
“Yeah, makes sense.”
“You’re paying.”
I can’t quite stifle a laugh. “That’s what I said.”
I’ve got the Uber app open, looking for rides, before we get the elevator to the main floor.
It’s raining buckets so I’m glad we don’t have to walk, even though the Deluxe is only about a mile away. An Uber rolls up, a newish Rav4. For a good few blocks neither of us say anything at all. My nerves are hyperaware of the man sitting next to me. His energy. His floral cigarette scent. I swallow down the want, willing myself to be cool for once in my damned life.
Lights flash—white headlights, red and green streetlights, and a brilliant rainbow from the neon shop signs on Broadway—the colors smeared by the rain. Ezra clears his throat, making me jump. He laughs and, facing the window, says, “You don’t seem like the kind of guy who would ask another man out on a date.”
“So, this is a date.” I sound more panicked than I should.Nice job playing it cool.
He shifts in his seat, still staring away from me. “Isn’t it?”
It’s my turn to clear my throat. “It could be, yeah.”
“I wasn’t sure,” he says softly, and some bit of tension in him relaxes. “I mean, I wasn’t sure which way you swung.”
“Which way I what?” I can’t help but laugh. “I guess you’d say I’m open to suggestion.”
He tenses up again. “What’s that mean?”
“I’m bi. Is that a problem?”
He stops staring at whatever’s so fascinating out the window without quite looking at me. Somewhere he’s lost the lollipop. “Depends on what you want.”
The Uber driver pulls the car to a stop across the street from the restaurant. That doesn’t seem like the right time to get into a discussion of who wants what, so I simply climb out and thank the guy. Ezra follows me, and while we wait for the cross signal, I try to figure out what I do want. The light changes, we cross the street, and I give up. “Now I’m not sure whatyoumean.”
He snorts, like I’ve surprised him. “Mean by what?”
“You said it depended on what I want, and I’m not sure what that means.”
Laughing, he opens the restaurant’s heavy wooden doors and waves me in. A hostess leads us to a small booth near the window, tucked away from the general flow of the room. Only when we’re settled does he respond.
“Here’s what I mean. If you want a quick fuck, I’m down with that.” His shrug is a dare, an invitation. “If you’re after moonlight and roses, I am not your guy.”
“Because I’m bi?”
“Because I don’t do moonlight and roses under any fucking circumstances.”