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“Of course it’s not enough. I’d order one of everything, but they’d have to roll us out of here and we’d never manage to walk around the aquarium.”

“I’m not sure—”

“How spicy do you like things?” Dash asked, completely ignoring his attempt to be sensible.

Thorne narrowed his eyes. “Don’t you already know?”

“Ha. Just for that I’ll order the habanero grits, and you can fucking deal.”

“I’d love those,” Thorne said, voice overly sweet.

Sally returned, and Dash made sure Thorne had no chance to interrupt. “Thorne will have blackberry-glazed bacon, two eggs over easy, and the habanero grits. I’ll take the Midtown Benedict.”

“You got it.” Sally winked at Thorne. “Those grits are my favorite. You’ve got a keeper here.” She jerked her thumb toward Dash.

“Oh, we’re not—”

She gave him a look that made him feel like an unruly schoolboy and sauntered away.

He looked back at Dash expecting to see more mocking laughter, but Dash looked worried. “I’m not trying to out you.”

Thorne should’ve cared, but he didn’t. “It’s fine. I’m not at work, and… Anyway, it’s fine.” Was he ready to give in, to let everyone know that he was gay? He’d been hiding for so long. Could he make that kind of change? For Dash, maybe he could. But that was stupid because Dash wasn’t his, not really. He had no hold on him beyond the time he paid for. “Just don’t ask me to bend over the table or anything.”

Dash laughed. “I think I can control myself.”

***

By the time they’d seen whale sharks, belugas, sea otters, and a host of other underwater creatures, Thorne felt like they’d walked for miles, and maybe they had. But throbbing feet was a price worth paying for Dash’s companionship.

“Can we see the whale sharks one more time?” Dash asked.

The exhibit had been packed when they’d first arrived, but now the crowds were thinning. Thorne was more than ready to head home, but Dash looked so eager, he couldn’t say no. “Come on.”

He pulled Dash in the direction of the Ocean Voyager exhibit. They spent at least fifteen minutes watching the whale sharks, sawfish, rays, and other animals in the enormous tank. Or at least Dash did. As intriguing as the exhibit was, Thorne spent a lot of that time watching Dash.

“You ready?” Dash asked, finally turning away from the tank.

“Yes. Shall we head home?”

Dash nodded, and they made their way through the gift store to the exit.

When they came out into the adjacent park, Dash pointed at the small cafe located between the aquarium and the World of Coke. “Let’s get ice cream.” He was bouncing like a five-year-old.

“After that breakfast I don’t think I should ever eat again.”

“If that was breakfast, then we’ll call this lunch.”

“Says your twenty-year-old metabolism.”

Dash turned to face him, but kept moving backward toward the cafe. “We’ve been walking for hours, plus we’ll need energy tonight.”

“Fine. I may as well give in now, or you’ll pester me until I do.” Thorne couldn’t wait to use up Dash’s energy in bed, but this had been, by far, the best day Thorne could remember having had in years. “I’m ordering this time.”

Dash grinned. “Go for it.”

The cafe sold soft-serve ice cream in vanilla, chocolate, or a twist of both. “I’d like a cone of the combo with sprinkles and a cone of chocolate.”

The little boy in Dash bounced again when Thorne handed him his ice cream.

“Did I guess right?” Thorne asked.

“Perfect.” Dash radiated joy. He must really like ice cream and maybe also the fact that Thorne knew him so well. If only every day could be like this one. But it couldn’t. Thorne was living inside a fantasy, secluded from the real world, despite being in a crowded public place. Monday would come, and his fantasy would dissolve.

Dash licked the curled top off his ice cream and gave an exaggerated moan of pleasure.

Thorne’s cock liked that a little too much. “Let’s find a shady place so we can eat these before they melt.”

They found a nearby bench and sank down onto it. Without warning Dash leaned over and licked Thorne’s ice cream.

“Hey! You’ve got your own.”

“Stolen ice cream tastes better. Don’t you know that?”

Thorne raised his brows. “My sister used to say the same thing.”

“She’s wise.” Dash held out his cone. “Here, taste mine.”

Thorne frowned. “It has sprinkles on it.”

“Yeah. You asked for them.”

“For you.”

Dash rolled his eyes. “Just taste it.”

Thorne did; the sugar punch of the sprinkles wasn’t as unpleasant as he’d expected.

“See, sweet things aren’t the enemy,” Dash said.

“No, they’re not.” Somehow Thorne didn’t think they were talking about ice cream.

***

Back at his apartment a few hours later, Thorne sank gratefully onto the couch, thrilled to be off his feet. “Movie now?” Dash asked.

“Sure.” Thorne closed his eyes and rested his head on the back of the couch.

“Are you going to fall asleep on me?”

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