What We May Be

Chapter 1-2

The umpteenth time his leg jiggled against Theresa’s, her hand shot out and grabbed his knee in a death claw.

“Will you stop it?” she hissed. “You’re driving me crazy.”

Slowly, Jared reached beneath the table and pried her fingers away. “Talk to the doctor,” he said in a low voice, nodding toward the man seated on her other side. “Pretend I’m not here.”

“That’s a little hard to do when there’s an earthquake rubbing against my thigh.” She twisted slightly to give a little more privacy to their conversation. “Why don’t you eat something? It’ll take your mind off it.”

It was the fact that he’d been stood up for the first time in years. As the time for seating approached, Jared had combed the room for signs of Mr. Tall, Blond, and Buff, only to come up empty-handed no matter where he looked. He’d waited as long as he could before finally dragging Theresa to an edge table, but his mood had plummeted the longer he had to sit there and listen to the two men across from him flirt outrageously with each other.

“Do you know how much cheese and butter they probably put in this frittata?” he complained instead. “I eat that, and I’ll blow up like a Macy’s parade float.”

Theresa stared at him. “Gee. From one-sixty to one-sixty-one. Yeah, that’s a real tragedy.”

Irritated, Jared tossed his napkin onto his unfinished plate and leaned back in his chair. “Let’s get out of here.”

She grabbed his elbow before he could stand. “Because one guy didn’t come over and sit with you? Grow up, Jared. He’s working security, remember? He probably got busy.” She swept an arm toward the other tables. “Do you see him anywhere else, chatting up another guy? No. Because he’s not.” Plucking his napkin off his plate, she tossed it at his chest. “So eat and stop being such a drama queen.”

The only reason he took the napkin was because the others at the table had stopped eating and started listening to them. And maybe because Theresa had a small point. Heat rose in his cheeks as he picked up his fork and broke off a tiny piece of the frittata, but Jared shot a wicked smile to the others in an attempt to disarm their curiosity.

“Well, she got the queen part of it right, anyway.” He held the smile while a ripple of laughter broke their attention, only dropping it when he was no longer the focus of it.

“So what’s the deal with this guy?” Theresa asked. She dug into her food as if nothing had been amiss. Steam wafted up from her baked potato when she broke into the skin. “Did I miss something juicy when he gave you a dry shirt?”

“No, nothing like that.”

“So what is it?”

“You have eyes. The man is beautiful.”

“You deal with male models every day. I don’t see you going so gaga over any of them.”

Jared rolled his eyes. “Maybe because most of them barely slide out of jail and into bait.”

“Still.”

“No ‘still.’ I wanted to get to know him better, okay? He knew Leo. And he’s taller than me. And he’s hotter than David Beckham sunbathing nude in the Sahara. Do you know what a narrow demographic that really is?”

Theresa slowly chewed her potato, her gaze contemplative. He hated when she did that. She always reminded him of his grandmother at the Sunday dinner table, watching and waiting for him to explain his latest ensemble.

“Fine,” he said. “I hate thinking he might’ve gotten a better offer. Satisfied?”

She grinned. “Just don’t tell him that or you might not get a third chance.”

“A third…” His voice trailed off when he turned to follow her gaze over his shoulder. Rick marched in his direction, his mouth grim, his steps long and sure. He slowed only as he approached, focusing on Jared with a velvet intensity that made him sit up a little straighter.

“There you are.” Rick gripped the back of Jared’s chair and leaned down, either ignoring the curious stares from the rest of the table or completely oblivious to them. Jared wasn’t sure which. “Listen, I got an emergency call and can’t stick around. But I didn’t want to just take off after we made plans.”

In spite of his earlier annoyance, Jared smiled with every ounce of warmth that had overtaken his body at Rick’s nearness. “Oh, you didn’t have to worry about me.” Beneath the table, Theresa’s foot connected with his ankle, but Jared was proud that he didn’t even blink. “I hope everything’s okay.”

“Well, we’ll see about that.” He pulled a folded piece of paper from his jeans pocket and set it in front of Jared. “If you want to get together sometime, give me a call. I want that conversation you promised me.”

Rick straightened with a smile, but with his mission done, didn’t linger. Jared watched him leave, his gaze invariably straying to the man’s ass again.

“Okay, you win.” Theresa wasn’t even looking at him when Jared turned back to her. Apparently, he wasn’t the only one checking Rick out. “He’s way better than any of the twinks the agency sends us.”

“Way better,” Jared echoed. And then repeated it again in his head.

Thank you, Leo.