Page 4 of Freedom
“Maybe.” Tobias was fairly sure he’d tried everything Jake had just mentioned, but it was hard sometimes to keep track of which vegetables and sauces were which, especially if they were just a side dish and Jake was in the middle of a story. And that was assuming the food itself wasn’t flavorful and rich enough to distract Tobias from asking Jake what each was called so he’d remember.
Jake looked discouraged. “Yeah. Well, maybe not. There’s steak. Want a steak, Toby?”
Tobias risked a glance into the menu. Shut it again. “That’s r-really expensive. Do you want one?”
“No, I’m asking... how about a malt, something basic to start us off?”
“I don’t know, Jake.” Every time Jake asked him what he wanted, Tobias felt that old frisson of fear, that foreboding that he wouldn’t have the right answer. But at this point he knew that even if he messed up this moment, he would never lose the most important thing, which was always Jake.
Jake sighed, frustration and irritation hissing out of him. “Dammit, Toby,” he said without heat. “Is there anything you do like?”
Tobias could have said anything, from yes to a list of foods that he’d tried and sincerely wanted to eat again—garlic chicken pizza, crawfish burgers, or artichoke cheese dip (Jake had insisted that Tobias could like things that Jake didn’t, but Tobias wouldn’t test that theory yet).
But the very first thing he thought wasI like being with you.
Jake wanted him to walk the edge. He wanted him to push for what he wanted, and to be so brave he couldn’t catch his breath. So Tobias opened his mouth—and said it aloud.
Jake stared at him. Wide-eyed, open-mouthed, like Tobias had just smacked him in the head with the menu resting by his arm. “You like...” he started, his face revealing such wonder and honest-to-Godhappinessthat Tobias found himself blushing.
They were saved by the waitress, who asked what they wanted, and Jake replied automatically, ordering them both lasagna and salad. When she walked away, Jake stretched his open hand over the table, and Tobias took it, hooking their fingers together. If anything, Jake’s grin grew sillier, wider.
Jake held his hand until the food came, and he looked regretful letting go. Tobias felt dizzy, light-headed this time with amazement that he had done something soright.
~*~
Jake suspected hishead wasn’t quite screwed on tight enough. Everything kept rattling around, and just when he thought he’d gotten something straightened out, he’d look at Tobias, and everything he thought he could make out would turn on its head.
I like being with you, Tobias had said, and if that didn’t make Jake feel like he’d been run over by a truck—but in a good way, a really fucking fantastic way—then he didn’t know what would.
He barely tasted the lasagna, and he ate all of his salad (generally, he would have rather gone ghost hunting naked), and by the time they got around to dessert, Jake thought that maybe he’d be able to look at Tobias without grinning like a schoolgirl with a crush.
Fuck it, this called for a celebration.
And conveniently, there was a sale on pastries.
“Hey, Toby, how about we get an entire pie? Like, maybe one of these pumpkin ones. Just the whole thing with extra whipped cream and the whole nine yards.”
Tobias had been quietly, happily smiling at the remains of his lasagna—just a remnant of sauce at the bottom of the little pottery dish, Tobias never left food behind—and occasionally glancing toward the door, maybe intrigued by the claw machine. He’d been a bit distracted ever since he’d said he liked being with Jake, and he said absently, “No, Jake.”
For one second, Jake was stunned. That had totally not been a No question. He’d been completely serious about that pie.
But that reaction was blown away in a wave of triumph and exhilaration that threatened to overwhelm the buzz from when Tobias said that he really, truly liked being around Jake. Because Tobias had just said no to him. For real.
Yeah, Toby had likely just thought it was another one of Jake’s cheesy setups. But that didn’t wipe the taste of victory and lasagna off his lips.
Best. Day. Ever.
Then Tobias looked up, saw the surprise on his face, and went pale as a ghost. All he needed were a few more dark spots around his eyes and maybe a death wound or two and Jake would have expected him to flicker.
“I’m—” Tobias began but had to swallow, hard. It looked like he was almost choking on something, and he suddenly wasn’t looking at Jake, or any of the people in the restaurant, but instead staring fixedly at the salt and pepper shakers on the side of the table like they were a magic talisman to take back what he’d said. “I’m s-s-s—”
“Toby.” Jake reached across the table and pulled Tobias’s hand up. Wrapped the delicate, too-thin fingers in his own callused hand and squeezed.Just look at me. See how happy I am. “You’ve got nothing to apologize for. I think you’re awesome.”
He waited until Tobias looked at him, really looked at him, and the pinched, terrified look around Tobias’s eyes eased up. He let him soak in the knowledge that Jake wasn’t angry butreally fucking ecstaticright now. He hoped a fraction of that showed on his face because this was a fantastic day to be Jake Hawthorne, and he wanted that happiness for Toby. It was, always and forever, the most he wanted.
When Tobias’s breathing eased back from panic attack levels, when his grip in Jake’s hand was firm but not bone-crushing, Jake grinned. “We’re totally gonna celebrate with pie.”
They didn’t get an entire pie. Tobias was completely correct that getting an entire pie for the two of them was a ridiculous idea, and Jake repeated this fact so many times that the people at the next table probably thought he had some kind of mental condition. But it was worth it to see Toby relax and finally grin back at him.
