Beau drops his arms and shrugs. “They’re much better quality than the ones you have on your phone.”
Jake nearly chokes on the last of his wine, and it’s probably hisown fault for trying to drink while Beau and I are in banter range, but I mumble an apology anyway, and Jake shakes his head as he claps Beau on the shoulder.
“I will absolutely buy a few things,” he says. “But I’m probably going to wait until I can stop by after work next week. This opening is great, but I’d love to browse without a crowd.”
Beau raises a familiar eyebrow. “Really? You’ll come here to see Adrian?”
“Relax,” Jake smiles. “It makes me a customer, not his best friend.”
“I’ll take the fingers in the mouth and the zipper over the bulge,” I tell Beau. “And pick out something nice for my mom. She’ll be thrilled to get a gift from you.”
Beau kisses me on the cheek and hurries off like he’s afraid I’ll change my mind, and Jake reaches over to smooth the sleeve of my sweater when it's already fine.
“Did you just buy our way out of here?” he asks.
“Something like that. I mean, I would’ve bought them either way, but there’s no reason to stick around all night. I assume you have snacks and drinks at home.”
“I do.”
I flash the grin that pulls in so many tips and keeps the keg room occupied. “Then let me pay Beau for the pictures while you say your goodbyes. I’ll probably be a few minutes behind you, but I’ll meet you there?”
“I’ll be waiting.”
The garage door is open when I pull into his driveway, though there’s no actual space to park in there, and I’m not sure what I would’ve done if he’d given me room. I leave my car where it is and make my way past his car, three motorcycles—one unsalvageable except for how Jake will probably salvage it—and too many storage boxes to count. Bold enough to keep going, I press a button I find on the wall just as I reach for the handle to the door that will let me into the house, the garage quickly closing behind me. My next couple of steps carry me into the same small hallway where I’d found Jake after his ill-advised workday, and I pause there to take off my boots and wonder whether I should call out for him from where I stand.
In the end, I stay silent because something about the moment demands it, and I have no doubt he knows I’m here.
I comb my hand through my hair and can’t help but smile when I think about how he’d held the back of my head earlier, my dick already half hard when I stop just shy of his kitchen island and he appears from the opposite direction. His leather jacket is gone and he’s barefoot now, looking exactly as sexy as he knows he is and somehow humble about it, too. Or maybe it’s the nervousness, again or still, because I feel the same kick in my chest when he leans against a countertop and doesn’t come any closer.
“Sorry I’m a little late,” I say. “Beau and I were talking, and thenAdrian came in to thank me for—”
Jake holds up his hand. “You’re here and I’m here. You don’t owe me an explanation.”
I believe him, but neither of us moves, still more than a few feet away from each other. There are a lot of things I could say or do, but it all takes a minute to settle in my head, and I think I’m unexpectedly quiet when I speak.
“You’re not really the jealous type, are you?”
“For about a dozen different reasons, no. And especially not about you and Beau, regardless of anything you might’ve wanted to buy tonight.”
“Even if I also have pics of him on my phone?”
“Even if,” Jake says. “And I’m a little surprised you’re asking. This isn’t an exclusive arrangement, is it? What good would it do me to be jealous?”
That’s entirely fair and something about it stings all the same, so I don’t answer, finally taking a couple of steps toward him instead. “You look really good right now.”
“I look the same as I did thirty minutes ago.”
“No, you don’t.” I take another two steps and run my fingertip over the buttons of his shirt. “There’s no jacket.”
“You don’t like my jacket?”
“I love your jacket, but that’s not my point. You look really good because you’re a little undone.”
“Imagine how I’ll look when I’m a lot undone,” he murmurs.
“Oh, I have.”
I’m still touching him, my hand curved around his ribcagenow, and it’s as easy to feel the deep breath he takes as it is to see it. This is different from when I’d dragged him into the gallery bathroom, the spontaneity of that forgiving him the sin of premeditation. The same could be said about the night I’d kissed him outside of Trailhead, I suppose. But he invited me into his home tonight, and while I don’t think either of us has specific plans for what happens next, I also don’t think either of us has arrived here with a bunch of limits.