Page 33 of Scoop Me Up
Sam’s brow furrowed. “You doing okay?”
With a nod, I slid the drink toward me and took a sip. “Better than ever.” When they didn’t look away, I shook my head and waved away their concerns. “I’m a lightweight. But like you said, I don’t have to worry about driving.”
Sam tilted their head to the side in a conceding gesture. “Fair enough.” After a moment, their face relaxed into a smile and they sipped their beer. “Well, here’s to roommates.”
I was unable to take my eyes off of their mouth, their full lower lip spit-damp and shining. My breath caught in my throat. I lifted my glass. “Roommates.”
We both drank.
Chapter 13
Sam
Gabe’s gaze seemed fixed on my mouth as he took a deep pull of whiskey from his glass. I had to be imagining things, right? The idea of it, though, heated my skin and made my breath catch in my chest. I sipped my Doctor Maple, trying to remember to pace myself. I wasn’t as much of a lightweight as Gabe, maybe, but I didn’t want to get drunk and say something stupid. I could be the responsible, sober one.
As we finished our drinks, we continued to chat. Gabe transitioned the conversation from relationships to my job, for which I was eternally grateful. I didn’twantto think about Jennifer and him. I knew they had a past, but being reminded of his apparent straightness just made me sad. Sad, frustrated, annoyed with myself. I always fell for the straight ones. I was glad for the conversation change.
“So what are you teaching the kids next week? In addition to reading skills, I mean.”
I laughed. “Reading skills aren’t good enough for you?”
Gabe shook his head, face turning redder. “No, that’s not what I meant.”
“It’s okay,” I said, holding up a hand to stop him. “I’m just giving you shit. We’re talking about dinosaurs.”
“You know what pisses me off?” Gabe blurted. “Pterodactyls.”
“I’m sorry—what?”
“Pterodactyls. They piss me off.”
I put down my glass of beer. “Okay, I’ll bite. What’s with pterodactyls?”
“They’re not dinosaurs.”
“That’s correct,” I said, giving him a slow nod. “Is that something that upsets you?”
Gabe took a swig of his whiskey. “Hell yes it is. Pterosaurs deserve dinosaur status, too.”
“Okay…”
“They lived at the same time as dinosaurs. I mean, I know they didn’t have holes in their hip bones or whatever the hell it is, but,” he gestured widely and shook his head. “Everyone knows they’re dinosaurs.”
“Technically—” I started, but he cut me off.
“No. Don’t technically me. Technically nothing. They deserve the same status and everyone knows it. It’s just paleontological bullying at this point.”
I couldn’t suppress my laughter. “Paleontological bullying?”
He pointed at me and sipped his whiskey again. “Don’t argue with me, Mix.”
A flush of pleasure washed over me at hearing him use my title correctly. It wasn’t often that outsiders accepted my nonbinary identity so quickly, but Gabe had taken to it with ease. It made me feel seen. “Finish your drink,” I said with a soft chuckle, shaking my head.
“Youfinishyourdrink,” he shot back, before downing the rest of his glass and putting it on the table with a thunk. “Happy?”
“As a clam.” I took one last sip of my half-full beer and scooped up his cup before taking both of the glasses to the bar, thankingConall, and paying our tab. We stepped out into the cooling July night and Gabe hummed once, softly, a happy sound. “Yeah?”
He nodded and looked up at me, his cheeks flushed from the alcohol. “I’m really glad I met you.” His tone was soft and sincere.
