“Yeah, yeah, I got your precious bread,” Cal muttered, following Austin into the house. “As well as that garlic butter you like.”
“You can’t have spaghetti sauce without bread.”
“Or wine,” Cal said, placing the bag on the kitchen table and pulling a bottle of wine out of it.
Austin gave a fake-dreamy sigh. “You know me so well.”
That birthed a silence in the room that was strange for how loaded it felt. Cal cleared his throat and gestured at the food. “Let’s eat.”
They worked in tandem for a few minutes, Cal unpacking the food and Austin gathering plates and cutlery. Cal couldn’t help his gaze straying to Austin whenever Austin wasn’t looking and noticing how the light filtering in through the window highlighted his cheekbones. Or how his T-shirt shifted against him when he moved. Or how he kept looking over at Cal as though waiting for something.
So of course Cal didn’t bring it up until after they’d eaten. Not because he wanted to prolong this weird limbo between them—but because he didn’t know how to tell Austin that dating probably wasn’t a good idea. Did Austin really want to risk years of friendship?
But instead of the gentle letdown he had planned, what came out of his mouth as he was gathering their dirty dishes was, “Were you serious? When you said what you said earlier?”
Takeout containers in one hand, Austin paused on his way out to the garage, where he kept his recycle bin. Slowly, he walked back to the table and met Cal’s gaze.
His eyes were sad, as though he knew what was coming, and his expression was stoic. Braced for the worst while hoping for the best.
“I meant it,” Austin said quietly. “But if it makes you uncomfortable, then we can pretend I was making a bad joke.”
“I don’t want to pretend,” Cal found himself saying...
And couldn’t bring himself to regret it.
His head and his heart obviously wanted two different things.
Would it be so bad if he followed his heart for once?
His head buzzed with all the unknowns.
“O... kay?” Austin’s brow creased. “What does that mean?”
“It means...” Cal paused to clear the gravel from his throat. Licked his lips. Austin followed the motion, sending Cal’s internal temperature skyrocketing. “It means, yes, I would consider dating you,” he said, finally answering Austin’s question from earlier.
Austin stared at him for a moment, perhaps waiting for Cal to call Psych! or take back what he’d said. Cal’s heart felt like it was going to float out of his chest, a sensation he was wholly unfamiliar with, and he waited for what Austin would do next.
Nod?
Grin?
Kiss him?
He did none of those things. Because he was Austin, he shot Cal a teasing smile. “Of course, you would. Because I’m a fucking catch, Calvin.” He rotated on his heel, aiming for the garage. “Tomorrow night,” he tossed over his shoulder. “Wear something nice.” He disappeared around the corner, takeout containers in hand. A moment later, the sound of the door to the garage being opened squealed through the house.
Shaking his head, Cal brought the dishes to the sink and hoped he hadn’t just made a huge mistake.
Chapter Eight
“I’m a catch?” Groaning under his breath, Austin plopped into the folding chair behind his makeshift desk at the Saturday market. “I’m a catch? Christ.”
What was wrong with him? Cal agreed to go out with him and Austin resorted to making jokes? He didn’t know what had come over him last night except that he’d been anxious and thrilled and surprised, and all he’d wanted to do was squish Cal’s face between his hands and kiss him.
But that was jumping about ten steps ahead, so to distract himself from the hope that had taken hold of his chest with sticky fingers, he’d made a dumbass joke instead.
Ugh. Whatever. It was fine. Well, it wasn’t. It was asinine. But it was done and he couldn’t take it back now. Cal hadn’t seemed to mind the joke much, anyway. In fact, he’d taken off soon after they’d cleaned up, citing fatigue. From anyone else, Austin would’ve seen it as an excuse to flee. From Cal, Austin took it at face value, knowing what time Cal usually started his day.
Austin drummed his fingers on the desk to the tune of the nerves singing through his veins. He’d wanted this for so long, and now that the day was here, he couldn’t quite believe it.