Page 22 of Christopher

“I couldn’t get the red wine out of it,” Drake said with a grimace. “I threw it away.”

“It would have made your eyes pop out,” Taylor complained.

“Well, it’s not an option, so let’s focus on the things I do have in my closet.”

Drake turned to face it. He and Chris weren’t doing anything weird for the date, which was a good thing because if they were, Drake would probably be freaking out even more. It was bad enough that he had no idea what to wear. He wanted to make a good impression, even though Chris was his mate and he was supposed to want him as he was.

“The guy’s your mate, right?” Eddie asked.

Drake squinted at his tiny face on his phone. “Yeah, he is.”

“Then does it matter what you wear? Aren’t you going to end up naked, anyway?”

Drake spluttered. “Not tonight. We just met, and we’re taking things slow.”

“But you already know you’re going to end up together.”

“It doesn’t mean we have to rush into things.” Especially since Chris was new in town. It was already hard enough for him to deal with everything.

“I get that, and I get wanting to look good for your mate, but I feel you’re worrying a bit too much. I’m pretty sure your guy would like you even if you wore a garbage bag over your head. I mean, I understand being nervous for a first date or whatever, but again, if he’s your mate, you already know you’ll end up together eventually. Maybe try to relax and think about that? You don’t have to impress him or anything. He’s already yours.”

It was true, but it didn’t help. Drake believed that Fate paired up mates because they were perfect for each other, which meanthe had to be perfect for Chris, but he didn’t feel like he was. He’d never been perfect for anyone else. Everyone always had a problem with him—he talked too much, he was too clingy, he was too much in general. He’d been dumped several times because of that, and while he didn’t think Chris was going to leave him anytime soon, he wasn’t willing to risk it.

Hence the need to look good.

“He’s not wrong,” Dennis pointed out. “You don’t know each other well, but he’s yours, and you’re his. You just have to relax and be yourself.”

Drake had already decided he couldn’t be. Being himself meant sending Chris running, and that was one thing he couldn’t do. If he had to tone it down and act like a shadow of himself, he’d do it. It would probably hurt once Chris realized what was going on, but hopefully, he’d already have fallen in love with Drake by the time that happened.

“Just so you know, Chris just left the house,” Dennis announced. “Kyle says he looked nice.”

Drake glanced down at himself. He’d taken off the red shirt and had put on a green one. This meant no more changing for him, so he grabbed a sweater and pulled it on over the shirt. It was getting cold, and he didn’t want to go through this date with chattering teeth.

“You look good,” Taylor declared.

There were murmurs of assent from the others, but Drake ignored them as he tried to smooth down his hair.

“Don’t worry too much,” Dennis said in a gentle voice. “You might have had a rocky start, but you’re not the only ones. Just think about me and Kyle. If we managed to get over the mess Kyle made, you can do this.”

Drake prayed he was right. He wanted to head out after hanging up, but Chris wasn’t here yet, so instead, he startedpacing. It wouldn’t take long for Chris to arrive. Nothing was very far in Green Hill.

When he heard the knock, he rushed to his front door. His foot caught on a shoe he’d abandoned by the door, and he fell forward, slamming against the wall.

“Drake? Everything okay?” Chris asked from outside.

Drake groaned and buried his face in his hands. Why was he like this? Why was he so clumsy and messed up? Couldn’t he be smooth and suave instead? That was what he needed to be to get Chris to give him a chance, dammit.

He opened the door, doing his best not to look Chris in the eyes. “I’m fine. Just let me grab my jacket, and I’ll be ready to go.”

Chris nodded slowly. He was staring at Drake as if trying to check if he’d hurt himself, so Drake gave him a wide smile and turned.

Only to stumble on the shoe again.

He swore under his breath and kicked it to the side, grabbed his jacket, wallet, and everything else, and stepped out. He closed his apartment door, wrinkling his nose at the heavy scent of garlic in the air. Someone in the building was cooking.

He’d been so nervous at the thought of going on a date with Chris that he’d barely eaten today. His stomach chose that moment to remind him of that. It growled loudly enough that Chris cocked his head, and Drake wanted the floor to swallow him.

“Sorry about that,” he said.

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