Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 67981 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 340(@200wpm)___ 272(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67981 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 340(@200wpm)___ 272(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
“’Course,” Emilio said hoarsely.
“I’m going to order the fondue for us to share.” Jim said, finally setting his menu down. As usual, the man was completely oblivious to the conversation around him. He stretched his neck and looked around the room. “Where did the waiter go? I’m starving. Are you guys ready to order?”
“I’m gonna get the burger,” Emilio said. “What about you, Spence?”
“I want the soup and salad with chick—” Spencer froze midword, his gaze locked on something across the room. It was hard to tell in the somewhat dark space, but it seemed like the color drained from Spencer’s face. “Excuse me,” he said weakly as he pushed his chair back. “I, uh, need to wash my hands.”
“No problem,” Emilio said, his forehead creased with worry. He tried to follow Spencer’s gaze, but couldn’t see anything out of place.
“We’ll go ahead and order for you,” Jim announced. He picked up the menu once again. “Maybe we should get the ceviche to share.”
“Tha… thank you.” Spencer gulped. “I’ll be right back.”
Chapter 12
SPENCER rushed away from the table so he could catch Peter before he got close enough to embarrass him in front of Emilio and his family. When he caught sight of his ex waving from across the room and making his way toward him, he thought he was going to be sick.
“I tried calling you to say I was running late, but the call went straight to voice mail,” Peter said as soon as Spencer was within earshot. “You should really answer your phone. Did you put our name in?”
“Put our name in?” Spencer repeated, trying to process Peter’s sentence and understand what he meant.
“Yes. There’s a line out the door. Don’t tell me you didn’t think of it.” He rolled his eyes and started charging back to the hostess stand. “Of course you didn’t.” When Spencer didn’t follow him, he paused and looked back. “Come on,” he snapped.
Wanting to avoid any kind of scene, Spencer dashed after him. “Peter, let’s uh, go over there.” He tilted his head toward a corner near the bathrooms. It was semi-quiet and, most important, completely out of view from the table where Emilio was sitting.
“Why?” Peter asked. “Oh! Did you already get a table?” He shook his head. “I guess being late saved me from having to wait around, huh?” He laughed, the sound harsh and grating.
Spencer flinched. How had he stayed in a relationship with this man? And why had he ever been sad that it ended? He took a calming breath and then hurried toward the bathroom area. Peter stayed close enough that Spencer could hear him walking, feel him breathing. It made his stomach hurt. Then it got worse. He reached the farthest corner of the restaurant and started turning around when he felt hot breath on his neck and strong hands on his shoulders.
“You look good, Spencer.” He knew it was Peter. He recognized his voice, he had asked him to come over there to talk, and he knew that Peter wouldn’t hurt him, at least not physically. But none of those things kept him from breaking out into a cold sweat. He flipped around and raised his hands. “Give me some space, okay?” he asked, his voice sounding shaky to his own ears. “I don’t like—”
“Yes, I’m well aware of your many limitations.” Peter sounded annoyed. He always seemed annoyed. But he moved back, giving Spencer room to breathe. “Honestly, it’s not like I was asking to fuck you right here in the restaurant. Actually, that’s one of things I wanted to talk to you about. I know you have all those hang-ups about sex, but I have a solution that’ll work for both of us.” Seeming to notice their location for the first time, Peter furrowed his brow in confusion and said, “Where’s our table? Did you order drinks?”
Finally hidden from Emilio’s family, Spencer breathed easier. “No. No table, no drinks. I told you I couldn’t have dinner with you.”
“No you didn’t.”
For a moment, Spencer questioned himself, but then he shook off the doubt and reached for his phone as he said, “I sent you a text.”
“Oh, that?” Peter waved Spencer off. “Come on. You know I don’t like to play games, Spencer. And your hard-to-get routine is old.”
“Hard to… never mind. Look, Peter, I wasn’t playing games. I tried to tell you I couldn’t make it when you asked on the phone, but you hung up too fast so I sent a text. Sorry I wasn’t clear enough. I’ll, uh….” Spencer stopped himself from automatically saying he’d talk to Peter later because he had no interest in speaking with the man again, ever.
“Look, I know you think it’s cute or something to get me wound up in bed and then make one of your excuses, but I would have thought you’d have learned your lesson by now.” Peter made a long-suffering sigh. “Taking it further by trying to get me to chase you to have dinner isn’t conducive to my giving you another chance.”