I can listen to most any kind of music, but my personalfavorite is boy bands. They’re kind of my guilty pleasure–anything from the Beatles to New Kids on the Block to One Direction. I love that shit. Of course, that’s not something I’m sharing with someone I’ve only known a few hours. Hell, I might never tell him. It’s not like anyone else knows except my younger brother and that’s only because he came home early one night when we still shared a room and caught me dancing while belting out an NSYNC song. He never told anyone my secret, but he still makes fun of me.
“Do you like jazz?”
“I listen to pretty much anything. Mostly Pop, but I’m not against any music. What about you? Do you stick with jazz?”
“Mostly, yes. It has a calming effect on me. I’m not opposed to other music when someone else is choosing, but when I’m home alone, jazz is always my go-to.”
“What do you like to do in your free time? Besides drinking damn good bourbon and listening to jazz?”
“The past few weeks, I’ve mostly been sleeping in my free time,” he jokes. At first, I laugh, but when he doesn’t laugh with me, my smile fades and I get serious. “When I have the time, I like to go for walks. I’ve driven out to the beach a few times since I’ve been here, but it’s a little crowded for my taste.”
“Yeah, the more popular beaches can get really crowded, but there are some quieter ones that aren’t well known.”
“I’ll have to find one of those.”
“I can show you sometime if you want.”
“Yeah, that would be nice. Thanks.”
“You said, you’ve been sleeping a lot. Is the job not going well?” I ask.
“The job is great, but it’s new and I have a lot to learn. Before I moved here, I worked at the stadium in New Jersey as one of the food and beverage managers. The job was similar,but this is heading up all of the restaurants and bars instead of one or two. By the time I get home all I want to do is eat and go to bed.”
“You’re from New Jersey?” I ask. I probably should have recognized the accent.
“Yep. Born and raised in Rutherford.”
“No shit. Me, too. Well, not Rutherford. I was born and raised in Edison.”
“No kidding! That’s cool.”
“Do you ever get used to the heat?” Evan asks. “I miss the cold temperatures and I know once winter gets here, I’m going to wish for snow.”
“The heat definitely gets old, and it never thinks about getting cold here. I miss my family but not the snow. I’d rather suffer through the heat than shovel another driveway.”
“Not me. I absolutely love the snow and everything about it. Since I was old enough to hold a shovel, I’ve been shoveling our driveway, neighbors’ driveways, and the sidewalk.” Evan looks lost in amazing memories for a minute before shaking his head and continuing. “I’m going to miss it come November.”
“I’ve never met someone who gets nostalgic over shoveling snow.” I laugh and shake my head.
I like Evan. He’s interesting and damn sexy. It has taken every ounce of willpower to keep my hands to myself all day and sitting on the couch next to him listening to him reminisce about our home state has me wanting to reach for him. My heart rate picks up a few notches, my hands begin to sweat, heat rushes through my body. What the hell is he doing to me? I’ve never felt this way about anyone, especially after only knowing him a few hours. I clear my throat and stand up.
“Bathroom?” I ask.
“Down the hall, first door on the left.”
“Thanks,” I croak.
I have to put some distance between us before I do something embarrassing like kiss him. I’m sure he’s gay, but what if he isn’t? What if he’s being nice and trying to make friends in this new city? I guess if that was the case, he would have asked Tyson and Carter to join us, but he only asked me. I flush the toilet even though I didn’t actually use it then I splash some cold water on my face and look in the mirror.
“Calm down,” I whisper to my reflection. “You can do this. Either go out there and be his friend or make a move. What do you have to lose?” My personal pep talk does little to calm me as my anxiety ratchets up a few more notches. If I make a move, it could ruin the start of a friendship and I like hanging out with Evan. On the other hand, if I don’t make a move, I’m going to keep torturing myself with what ifs. “You’ve got this. He’s putting off interested vibes. Go for it.” Anything is better than pretending to hit on girls at the club with Tyson and Carter, even if I’m wrong about the vibe I’m getting from him.
After drying my hands and face, I walk back to the other room. The apartment is small–one bedroom, one bathroom with a kitchen, eating nook, and living room all open to one another. There’s a small balcony off the kitchen. I like Evan’s place. It suits him. The couch is empty when I come out of the bathroom and with a quick glance to the right, I find him in the kitchen.
“Are you hungry? I’m going to make some pasta and a salad,” he offers.
“Don’t go to any trouble.” I’m starving, but I don’t want to put Evan out.
“It’s no trouble. The pasta is one of those frozen disheswith everything already in the bag. Basically, you put it in a pot, and it takes care of itself. The salad comes from a bag, too. Nothing to it.”