Jamie knew which way he swung, so that was cool to say to him.
“Aren’t those guys all, like, as old as Jonesy?”
“No!” He shook his head vehemently. “I looked him up. He’s twenty-three or four, maybe? Like three years older than me.”
“Oh. That’s less gross.” Jamie winked. “If you need an extraction, though, text me.”
He stared Jamie down. “I can’t imagine a scenario in which I’d want to get away from this guy.”
“That’s because you’re a skank.” Jamie waved a hand. “Hey, I have a single right now. My roomie doesn’t come in until after Opening Ceremonies. Guy from France. You want to take my room tonight in case you get lucky?”
“Fuck, yeah.” He dug out his key card. “Tower two. Room 2112.”
“Cool. I’m in three. It’s on the card pocket.”
“Thanks, man. I appreciate it.”
“Yeah, tell that to Jonesy when he has to listen to me snore. Later.”
Jamie left just in time, because as soon as he walked away, Caleb glanced up and saw Hawk striding toward him.
“Hey, how you hanging?” God, Hawk looked good in his not-team-kit gear. He was wearing a decent pair of shoes that seemed like they had good treads in case there was bad weather out there. A pair of nice slacks. Caleb couldn’t tell what kind of shirt Hawk was wearing because he did have a coat pulled on over it, but damn, that coat made his shoulders appear impossibly broad.
“Good. You still want to go have food?” Hawk’s smile held a hint of nerves.
“God, yes.” He grinned, nudging Hawk with his elbow when he got in range. “I even looked up a couple of places. You do red meat?”
“Yeah.” Hawk walked along beside him, arm almost pressed to his.
“There’s like this steakhouse kind of place that does beef and a few other things. The owner is really nice, apparently, and he speaks some English, so…”
“It sounds like a great plan.” Hawk’s gray eyes gleamed with good humor, and his lips curved in a stunning smile.
Caleb kind of wanted to lick it—the smile, not the eyes.
God, he grossed himself out sometimes.
They chatted about the Olympic village, food, and not the weather while they walked, and the restaurant he’d wanted was full but not bursting, which he figured was a good thing. They still had a week before Opening Ceremonies, though, so the city hadn’t been completely overrun yet.
The smell of sizzling meat and spices filled the air when they sat, making his mouth water.
“American?” A middle-aged man with a kind smile came to stand by their table. “Canadian?”
“American,” Hawk murmured.
“You play what sport?”
They shared an amused glance. Even without their team stuff, they were clearly conspicuous. “Hockey.”
“Snowboarding.”
“Ah, welcome. I will explain the menu when you are ready. You like drinks?”
Ten minutes later they had drinks and a food order and were staring at each other over the small table. He got the feeling Hawk felt a bit too enclosed, because his shoulders were hunched a little, his hands in his lap.
Caleb leaned forward, staring into Hawk’s eyes. “Are you okay?”
“I am.” Hawk smiled, which lit up that lean, sharp-cheeked face. “This is nice.”