“HMM. CENTRAL PARK at night. Should I be worried?”
JT grinned at me as we made our way through the park, but we were far from the only ones.
“You should. This is where I dump the bodies of all the guys I’m done with after they’ve sucked my dick.”
There was a low gasp, followed by a rough shove that knocked me off balance. I laughed as JT cursed my name, his curls scattering as he shook his head.
Did the couples around us hear me? Sure. Did I care? Not in the slightest.
JT groaned. “Please say that a little louder next time.”
If it hadn’t been dark, I was positive I’d see a blush on his cheeks.
“Is that a dare? ’Cuz I’ll do it.” I brushed my hand along the back of his as we walked. The urge to hold his hand hit me out of nowhere, but I held myself back.
“Nooo, not a dare. I don’t think there’s anything you won’t do.”
“You might be right about that,” I murmured as the makeshift movie screen came into view. There were two lines of food trucks on either side, and between them, string lights crisscrossed over the fifty or so small round tables set up for dining.
“What’s that?” JT asked. “It can’t be where we’re going. You’d never eat from a food truck.”
“Maybe I wanted to bring you somewhere that would make you feel a little more comfortable.” I didn’t grab his hand, but I did place mine on his lower back to guide him toward the entrance. All the while I watched him, his eyes bright as he took in every detail. It was rare I spent my Friday night somewhere other than partying, but I thought JT might want to do something a little different.
“Movie by the Mouthful?” he read off the sign, and looked at me.
“As we watch the movie, they bring out food and drinks based on what the characters are eating.”
“No way. What movie?”
“Ever seen Chef?”
JT’s mouth fell open. “Shut up, I love that movie.”
I grinned. “Get ready for some molten fucking lava cake.”
The excitement on his face was contagious, especially once we were sat at a table in the center and he read off the menu for the night.
“Oh my God, we even get beignets. This is the coolest thing ever.”
“I’m glad you think so.”
JT set the menu down and looked at me curiously. “You like this kind of thing?”
“We’ll find out. I know I like the movie.” It had been pure luck JT did too. But who didn’t love Jon Favreau and John Leguizamo?
“Hmm.” That was all he said as he rested his chin on his fist and watched me.
I wiped at my face, looked down at my shirt, but I didn’t see anything out of place. “What?”
“This is a date, isn’t it?”
My mouth opened to utter a denial, because I didn’t go on dates. I never had.
Instead I focused on moving my silverware a few inches to the right. “Do you…want it to be?”
“I asked you first.”
I met his eyes. “What do you think?”
“I think you’re trying not to answer.” A smile began to spread across his lips. “It’s totally a date. You like me, West, you can admit it.”
“Maybe I just like the way you—”
JT clamped a hand over my mouth before I could say something that would have him blushing again.
“Admit it,” he said softly.
It was hard not to want to give him anything he asked for when he looked at me like that. After a long moment, I nodded. JT’s grin grew wider, and he pulled his hand away.
“Thank you.”
Whether he meant that as a thank you for admitting it or for the date itself, I didn’t know. Maybe both. Either way, I shoved down the strange feeling in my chest and looked around for a waiter to get me a damn drink.
I didn’t have to wait long. Soon the lights overhead dimmed and the movie began, and not even two minutes in, our first dish was being set in front of us.
With the opening scene being one featuring a pig, we received a tasting dish of spicy honey pork belly, and not three minutes later, at the mention of New Orleans, a hurricane cocktail to wash it down with.
If that was the kickoff, we were both gonna leave here more than happy, because that shit was damn good.
“You know,” JT whispered, “I seem to remember you giving me hell over liking food trucks.”
“So?”
“So it looks like each of these trucks is in charge of one of the meals or cocktails. And from the way you just forced yourself not to lick your plate, I’m thinkin’ you liked it.”
“Me? Lick my plate?” I scoffed. “Unless you’re being served up on that plate, I’m not licking anything.”
JT choked out a laugh, muffling it with his napkin. “I’m not on the menu tonight. At least not here.”
Great. Now that was all I was gonna be able to think about—getting JT naked and laying him out on this table in front of everyone to devour the way I wanted to. My dick was completely on board with that plan, if the sudden tight fit of my pants was any indication.
I tried to focus back on the movie and only succeeded when the next dish was brought out. Molly’s Post-Sex Pasta, otherwise known as Aglio e Olio.
“This is my favorite part,” JT whispered, scooting his chair a little closer to mine as Jon Favreau’s Chef Carl Casper ripped into a food critic bashing his meal. I wasn’t even sure if JT noticed he’d done it, or if it was a subconscious move. I didn’t mind. If he wanted to straddle my damn lap, I would’ve been okay with that too.
Miniature chocolate lava cakes were passed around as the chef onscreen yelled about the insides being fucking molten, grabbing it up with his bare hand as evidence. Luckily, we were given forks instead of having to use our fingers.
I didn’t even hesitate as JT cut into his cake and the liquid inside came spilling out. I swiped some of the chocolate with my finger and held it up in front of his mouth, painting his lips as I waited for him to open up.
When he caught my wrist, I thought he’d pull away.
But JT never did what I expected him to.
His brown eyes smoldered as he sucked my finger deep into his mouth, licking me clean in a way my dick was getting jealous of by the second. The urge to reach down between my thighs to better position my growing erection was strong, but I didn’t want to get us kicked out of here.
JT gently nipped at the tip of my finger before letting go, and I raised a brow.
“How’d I taste?” I said, keeping my voice low.
He leaned in like he was going to kiss me. “So good I’m tempted to ask for another mouthful.”
His words and his sugary-sweet breath on my lips had me thinking, Fuck it. It hadn’t been my plan for PDA, not when anyone could see us, but in that moment I just didn’t care.
“You’re right,” I said, brushing my mouth against his before leaning back. “I do taste really fucking good.”
JT let out a bark of laughter. Without thinking, I threw my arm over the back of his chair, noticing the way he went still for a heartbeat. But then his shoulders dropped and he relaxed against me, his curls brushing against my arm.
I liked that, liked the way he went along with anything, like he trusted that his curiosity and attraction wouldn’t lead him wrong.
Like he trusted me.
He shouldn’t, a voice in the back of my mind said. You’ll only end up hurting him.
Oh, fuck off, I thought, shoving the guilt somewhere I didn’t have to hear it. For the past few days, all I’d heard from the guys were taunts about JT and when was I going to close the deal already.
I was about ready to throw them all out a goddamn window.
With my arm still over the back of JT’s chair, I focused on the movie and finishing my lava cake. Each portion of food was small, but I could feel myself getting full, and we weren’t even halfway through yet.
It might be a good idea to cancel the car service and walk off the meal later. Unless we needed rolling out of here, in which case, I wasn’t canceling anything just yet.
As Chef Casper headed down to Miami, JT nodded at him at a club dancing salsa.
“Can you do that?”
“You’ve seen me dance.”
“No, not the club stuff. Like that.”
I watched their moves. “I’ve never tried. You?”
“Nah, I don’t think my hips could move like that.”
“Trust me, Golden Boy, your hips aren’t a problem.”
“Oh really?” JT rolled his head on my arm, looking up at me. “So what’s my problem, then?”
I shrugged. “Maybe you just need a good partner.”
“Yeah? Someone knowledgeable to teach me the moves?” A teasing glint sparked his eyes, or maybe that was the dim string lights reflected in them.
“You seem pretty self-motivated to learn already. Not sure you need a teacher.”
“Just another willing participant, then?”
I smirked. “We still talkin’ about salsa, JT?”
“I honestly have no idea,” he said, shaking his head. He rested his neck back on my arm, and his curls tickled my skin in the warm breeze.
The movie, and tasting, continued, a round of Miami mojitos up next, followed by Cubanos. And just when I thought there couldn’t possibly be more, a final course was served, beignets topped with what seemed like an inch of powdered sugar.
They were decadent and just the right amount of pillowy softness. You devoured two before you realized you’d done it.
“I didn’t even need that dipping sauce,” JT said, licking the sugar off his fingers, but when he saw me watching his mouth, he dropped his hand. “You can’t look at me like that.”
“Says who?”
He shook his head and murmured, “Trouble.”
“Me? Trouble?” I gave him my most tempting smile. “Who would ever say that about this face?”
“Lots of people.”
“And it bothers you what people say?”
“I don’t need other people telling me who they think you are.”
He said it so matter-of-factly that it caught me off guard. I knew his mom and Caleb probably hadn’t been the only ones telling him I was bad news. And while maybe I deserved it, I was glad JT hadn’t listened.
The string lights overhead brightened as the movie credits began to roll, and we both finished off our drinks before getting to our feet.
“That might be one of my favorite things I’ve ever done in the city,” JT said as we strolled out of the park alongside other moviegoers. We headed in the direction of his dorm, and I shot a text to my driver, keeping him on standby for later.
“You know what? I might agree with you.” Or maybe it had more to do with the person I was with.
“At least a nice change from clubs every night, right?”
“Are you saying you don’t like a wild party?”
He ran his hand through his hair as we stopped at a crosswalk, letting it fall back at his side as the signal turned white. “Not every night. Don’t you get tired of them?”
“Not really. I’m not crazy about the hangovers, but…” I shrugged. “It’s what we do.”
When we stepped back up on the sidewalk, my hand automatically went to JT’s lower back, moving us out of the way of a couple who weren’t paying attention to where they were walking.
As we passed them, I dropped my hand, and we walked in silence for half a block before JT said, “Do the guys know you took me to a movie in Central Park tonight?”
“I could ask you the same. Does your mom know?”
We both looked at each other at the same time, the answer to that one clear.
Hell no.
If the dean had a clue, JT would be behind a padded cell door, not walking the streets with me.
“I just realized something,” he said, stopping to look around. “Where’s your driver?”
“I do know how to use my legs on occasion.”
“Bullshit,” he said, laughing. “You’re just trying to walk off all that food we ate.”
“For good reason. If they’d served me another beignet, I think my stomach would’ve combusted right there on the spot.”
“Ugh, it was so good, though. I wonder if they taste like the real thing.”
“As opposed to…what, fake ones?”
“Yeah, like the ones in New Orleans. Those are the real ones.”
“This is New York,” I said, gesturing around us. There was an intangible buzz in the air here, there always was, and I could feel it in my veins no matter where in the city I went. “Everything is better here.”
“Some might say that’s a close-minded opinion,” JT teased.
“Then those people would be wrong. I’ve been everywhere. Seen everything. There’s no place like this.”
“I’m not disagreeing with you. I love that there’s always something new happening, like what we did tonight. It’s never boring.”
No, it was definitely never boring.
The backs of our hands grazed each other’s as we walked, every touch forcing my focus to the one spot we connected. We’d been closer than this before, but something about it felt intimate in a different way. Like if I laced my fingers through his, it would mean more than just holding a random guy’s hand.
Not to mention that the likelihood of one of our peers seeing us like that was greater the closer we got to his dorm.
I kept my distance, not wanting to risk it, but as his building came into view, I found myself not wanting to let him go just yet. The guys were all going out—were probably already at the club—but I wasn’t ready for my time with JT to be over.
I chewed on the inside of my cheek as he turned to face me.
“Did you wanna come up?” he asked with a nervous smile.
Did I? Fuck yes. But I didn’t want an unexpected visitor popping in unannounced like last time. And truth be told, I wasn’t sure overnight would be long enough…
“I have a better idea,” I said before I thought too much about it. “East is out of town this weekend. Why don’t you stay with me?”
JT blinked, his forehead furrowing like he didn’t understand my request.
“You want me to…stay with you? All weekend?”
“Yeah, why not? We’ll have the place to ourselves. No one has a key, so they won’t know you’re even there.”
I could see the war in his eyes, that he wanted to do it, but something held him back.
“That sounds amazing. But I do actually need to study this weekend—”
“Then you can do it at my place.”
He snorted. “You think you can manage to keep your hands off me long enough for me to get some work done?”
“Hey, I can show some restraint. Besides, I’m sure there’s something school-related I need to catch up on. You can inspire me.”
When I winked, JT bit back a smile and looked down, and I knew I had him.
“Pack your shit,” I said, lifting his chin. “And come home with me.”
