Page 89
The man grins, shooting me a wink in the rearview mirror. “You kiddin’? I got just the joint for you.”
Shilo whips his head toward me. “But I’m not—“
“I swear to all that is holy, if you tell me you’re not hungry, I’ll force-feed you,” I growl, cutting him off.
His eyes flash in defiance. “I ate during the game.”
“A handful of popcorn doesn’t count as eating, Shilo. That’s a snack. I’m taking you to dinner.”
His scowl softens, morphing into something tender. “Like a date? A real one?”
Reaching out for his hand, I press his knuckles to my lips. The gesture surprises even me, but the affection comes naturally. “Yes, like a date. Just you and me.”
He straightens in his seat, practically bouncing as he turns to watch the Brooklyn Bridge come into view. “I’ve never been on a date before.”
He’s never…
That revelation twists my heart painfully. How have I fucked him six ways to Sunday, but never taken him on a proper date? We’ve done everything backwards. Now that we’re…whatever we are, I want to spoil him. Share all of his firsts, all of his onlys. I want them all to belong to me.
Forty minutes later, our driver drops us at a busy pizzeria in Bay Ridge. The place buzzes with energy, live music spilling out onto the sidewalk, and a line nearly out the door. Once inside, Shilo’s eyes light up when he spots a row of arcade games lining a brick back wall, and I press a quick kiss to the top of his head.
“Go pick a game for us to play while I grab our food, baby.”
Not needing to be told twice, he’s off in an instant, making me chuckle when he stops in front of Mortal Kombat. My sweet little doll likes violence, apparently.
Stepping up to the counter, I place our order with extra cheese and no meat. As I move aside to wait, a deep voice cuts through the chatter, freezing me mid-thought. Turning toward the entrance, I lock eyes with Huckslee Davis as he strides into the restaurant, leaving me speechless
What are the odds?
He’s even bigger in person, muscles straining against his oversized coat, blond curls damp and wild. Beside him, his boyfriend Taylor jostles his shoulder, something unspoken passing between them in an intimate glance that makes my skin tingle. I’ve seen them together in photos—they’re all over social media—but in person? They’re fucking stunning. This is an opportunity I cannot waste.
Making my way over, I stop just short of invading their space, praying I don’t come off too forward as I hold out my palm. “Huckslee Davis? It’s nice to meet you. I’m Ryann.”
Two pairs of eyes swivel toward me, and Huckslee shakes my hand with a wide smile. “Hey there. You a fan?”
“Of you both.” I nod toward his boyfriend. “I’ve caught your stunt bike show.”
That earns me a cocky grin as Taylor runs a hand through his dark hair. “Yeah? You like that shit?”
“Impressive. Can I buy you both a beer?”
They exchange a glance before Huckslee offers an apologetic smile. “We don’t drink. We’re just here for the pie.”
Damn. Worth a shot.
“Of course,” I nod smoothly, glancing back to check on Shilo before returning to the conversation. “Would it be alright if I asked you a personal question?”
Huckslee lifts a brow, his features growing wary. “We’re not interested in a threesome, sorry.”
I choke on my spit, coughing into my arm. “That’s not my question, but I appreciate the visual.”
“Oh.” He laughs along with me while his boyfriend rolls his eyes.
“You’d be surprised how often we get asked,” Taylor smirks. “Huck and I don’t share.”
“Neither do I.” My voice lowers, and I clear my throat. “When you came out in college, were you worried about your career? In football, I mean.”
The question hits like a stone, the playful energy shifting as both men stiffen. Taylor’s face falls slightly, and for a moment, I wonder if I’ve overstepped.
