Do I want to go to dinner with Ari? Yes. Am I going to? I… don’t know. I have no doubt that for him, this is just a friendly invitation. If I go, I’ll enjoy his company and probably have a good meal.
But I might also end up propositioning him. If we’re in a public space, I won’t even have the option to hide in my felid form like I did the other night—also, having his hands on me? Not a great way to overcome this burning lust I feel for him. I came very close to humping him like some uncouth dog.
Screw it. A little humping never hurt anyone.
Sounds great, I’m in.
The place Aripicked for us to meet at surprises me. It’s a little bistro-type eatery, tucked away down an alleyway, and the inside is cozy, dimly lit, and… dare I say romantic? It gives definite date vibes.
I’m probably misreading the situation. It’s also quiet, offers each table some privacy despite the small size, and is community owned, which means I can order as much food as I need without attracting attention. It definitely works as a place for friends to catch up, especially if there’s stuff they want to talk about.
I approach the host stand, but my eyes have already caught sight of Ari standing beside a booth, talking with a server, both of them looking at a menu.
“I can see my friend,” I tell the host, and he glances over, then nods.
“Of course, go right through.”
As though he can sense me, Ari looks up as I get closer, and his smile lights him the fuck up. It’s beautiful, all the more so because he so rarely shows it, and my chest aches with how much I want him.
Not just sex with him. Him.
I’m so fucked.
“Here he is,” he tells the server, then turns to me. “We’re looking at food options for you. Kent says the kitchen should be able to adjust almost everything so it works with your diet plan.”
I blink hard to prevent the tears from falling and clear my throat. “Really? That’s so great, thank you. If you have any recommendations for what would be easiest for the chef, I’d love to hear them.”
The server—Kent—smiles at me. “I’ll ask Chef, but she loves a challenge, so you can probably expect her to say everything’s fine.” He lays the menu on the table. “Can I get you both anything to drink while you’re looking at the menu?”
We order drinks, then when Kent departs, slide into the semicircular booth and… stare at each other across the table.
“Thank you for thinking of my diet plan,” I say quietly.Ihadn’t even thought about how eating out might impact it, but Ari was ferreting out options for me before either of us even sat down.
He shrugs. “Of course. I asked around at work, and a few people suggested this place because they’re flexible for people with food allergies. It seemed like a good idea.”
“It is.” I take a breath, resisting the urge to leap across the table and curl up in his lap. “I’m grateful. You’re a good friend.”
The table jolts, as though he bumped into the leg. “Sorry,” he says, straightening his cutlery. “Ah, actually… I wanted to talk about?—”
“Here we are.” Kent puts down our drinks and a bread basket. “Chef said to treat the menu as a guideline only.”
“Oh.” I reach for it, feeling bad that I haven’t even looked yet. Mostly I want to ask him to go away so Ari can finish whatever he was about to say, but he’s looking at his own menu now, and I sense that the moment may have passed.
I spend a few minutes glancing through the options available and asking questions, and once we’ve finally ordered, I sit back in my chair and sip my drink.
“I heard back from that researcher I called,” Ari says abruptly, and I nearly choke on my drink.
“The one who specializes in sex?” I feel stupid the second the words leave my mouth. It’s not like he’s told me about any other researchers.
He nods. “He wants to talk to you personally, if you’re okay with it. He runs a study into the effects of regular sex on metaphysical health, and he asked if you’d be interested in joining it.”
Heat climbs up my neck. “Uh…”
“You don’t have to,” he assures me.
“No, I don’t mind, it’s just… I assume a study about people having regular sex would need me to actually have… you know. Regular sex.” I’m pretty sure my face is the color of a tomato.
Ari coughs, gaze darting over my shoulder. “Oh. I thought, with the hormones…”
