Page 32 of Counterpoint
“Hello.” Adrian dropped his fingers to Dominic’s bowtie and yes, it was beautiful close up, a yellow base with blue-and-red paisley designs. From the feel, it was silk. “You look spectacular.”
People flowed past them on the sidewalk and Dominic’s eyes were bright. “So do you.”
Adrian had worn one of his better charcoal-gray suits to work—which Jackson had commented on that morning at the gym because nothing got past him—and paired it the a pale yellow shirt and a tie that was an homage to his roots, Celtic knot-work in greens and yellow and browns. He’d even dug out his gold cufflinks, the ones with his initials.
Watching Dominic’s hungry gaze drift over his body now, he was glad he’d taken the time to dress to impress this interesting, contradictory man. “Shall we go in?” He slipped his hand into Dominic’s.
That sweet voice was still breathless. “Yeah. Or your place.” His blush deepened. “Whichever.”
Adrian gave the fingers entwined with his a squeeze. “Patience.” Then he led Dominic into the restaurant.
The staff was cordial, punctual, and perfectly mannered as they led them to a small table in the dining room, all arranged so that diners wouldn’t be crowded by others, would feel the intimacy of the low light, glass, and dark wood that mimicked art deco trees. It was ideal for taunting and teasing Dominic in the ways Adrian so wanted.
Dominic unbuttoned his suit jacket like he’d worn them often enough, and a glimpse of the interior fabric plus the way it hung on his frame made Adrian reassess his earlier thought. It wasn’t just a good fit—this suithadbeen tailored for Dominic. Custom-made, likely. The fabric, though not showy, was high quality and the lining uniquely patterned.
A place in Brooklyn. A bespoke suit. A musician. Not quite an equation that added up, but Adrian set it aside.
They received menus and their server described the specials in detail. Adrian half-listened to her and half-watched Dominic’s reactions. Yes, this was a man moved by food. Or at least by taste and experiences.
In the end Adrian chose the filet mignon while Dominic chose short-rib ravioli in truffle sauce, and they split a pricey bottle of red Bordeaux. It wouldn’t break his budget, but it was more extravagant than he usually was on a date.
Then again, he usually just bought hookups a cheap drink at a club and pulled them into a darkened corner for some fun. This was completely different, down to the fine china. He sipped his expensive wine.
“Why are you smiling?” Dominic’s voice was full of curiosity.
“Would you like to know a truth?”
Dominic’s look got distant for a moment. “I prefer truths.”
“Mmm. Me, too. But this—” he gestured between them “—is young yet. We all have cards we hold to our chests.”
A nod and a very steady look.
“I said I wanted more than a one-night stand. But that’s not my usual motive, either.”
Dominic tipped his head back a little. “So you’re a love ’em and leave ’em guy, too?”
Adrian shrugged. “I can be. It’s certainly easier sometimes.”
“But...” Dominic picked up his wineglass and swirled.
“You’re worth more than one night. I knew that when I sat down next to you.”
Dominic let the wine level out and stared at it for a moment before shifting his gaze to Adrian. He might be all of twenty-seven, but there was a great deal of experience and that same steel Adrian had glimpsed before. “Because I was reading about rentboys?”
Adrian laughed. He couldn’t help it, and he caught a few other diners looking their way. But that was, in some respects, part of the truth. “Not just any book about rentboys. How many people do you know who read Jack Saul?”
A touch of red on his cheeks. “None. R—” Dominic froze and the blush was gone, replaced with something that looked a little like terror. He shook himself once. “One of my bandmates prefers history. The others like fiction, but not...” He let the comment die and didn’t look up.
The mysterious band. And obviously a subject Dominic preferred to keep off the table.
“This is probably presumptuous, but I think perhaps we both prefer quick and easy from time to time because we don’t make friends that readily.”
The smile returned to Dominic, knowing and wry. “Thatispresumptuous, given we’ve met, what, three times.”
And fucked so very much in one evening, but Adrian kept those thoughts behind his lips.
Still, Dominic’s eyes danced. “But you’re not wrong. I don’t make friends easily. I don’t like opening myself up.”
