Page 16 of Summer Catch

“Of course it isn’t,” Kieran said, sounding so sure that Jon envied him his confidence.

“You’re a remarkably judgment-free person.”

It was why they’d gotten along so well. Why Jon just plain liked him.

Kieran shrugged. Picked up the menu. “It’s not that hard to put myself into other people’s shoes and have a little bit of empathy for what they’re going through.”

“And yet so few people do it,” Jon said.

Part of him wanted to apologize to Kieran. To say, I’m sorry, I’m sure this hasn’t been easy on you either, because I think you like me, too, and if you thought it was hopeless, that would’ve sucked.

But he didn’t.

“What are you thinking of getting?” Kieran asked.

“Uh, I don’t know.” Apparently a theme for the evening. “Maybe the banana pancakes.”

Kieran glanced at him over the top of his menu. “I’m gonna get the bacon and cheese omelet? Split with me?”

Jon had already begun to relax, feeling like he’d made the right choice in discussing this with Kieran, but his offer sealed it.

“It’s a deal,” Jon said. Put his hand out and Kieran shook it impudently, but then their hands both lingered there.

Kieran’s calluses brushing the sensitive curve between Jon’s thumb and his index finger.

Of course the waitress chose that moment to arrive at their table.

Kieran dropped Jon’s hand, so quickly that he wanted to reach out and snatch it back, even though he understood exactly why he’d done it.

The waitress might’ve recognized him. Might’ve remembered, later, that he’d been holding hands with a guy.

They ordered, and Kieran added a cup of coffee to match Jon’s. “’Cause apparently we’re staying up late and playing hooky tonight,” he said with a crooked grin as the waitress dropped off a mug for him, giving Jon a refill.

“I’m game if you are.” Please say you are.

Kieran picked up his mug and clanked it carefully against Jon’s. “You know I am,” he said softly.

It was the strangest first date Jon had ever been on, and yet also the most comfortable.

After that first initial bit of awkwardness, they chatted so easily, like they had from the first, Jon telling stories about all his idiot rookies and their stupid antics, and Kieran telling him about Brock’s first week as a bartender.

“He sliced all the citrus the wrong way, a whole fucking bushel of limes and lemons and oranges, and for days, I had to serve drinks with them.” Kieran shook his head. “And the second night, he ate a whole jar of maraschino cherries and got sick in the bathroom. All that neon red splashed across the toilet, like a freaking crime scene. But he’s shaped up pretty well after that.”

“And you could take off, because he’s there?” Jon chased the last bite of pancake, scooping it up with a healthy swirl of maple syrup. He felt jittery and energized, and not just because of the caffeine and the sugar.

He was lit up inside at the thought of what they might do after their late-night breakfast.

“Yeah. He’s a great guy. Him and Nadia are both easy to rely on. I should do it more.”

Jon had never felt the butterflies swirl quite this insistently. After grabbing the check and setting down a few bills, Kieran shooting him an amused glance at his stubborn and determined expression, Jon decided that was the reason that the awkwardness returned.

Should he be the one to suggest continuing the evening? Kieran had made it pretty clear that the ball was in his court. That if he wanted them to move forward, he was going to have to be proactive about it.

What should he say?

We could go to my condo. It’s not that far away. Only a few miles away. Then we could . . .uh . . .Netflix and chill?

Except Jon wasn’t even sure anyone even did that anymore. Would he reveal himself to be very uncool if he said that out loud?

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