Chapter 4

Besides, running over to Ross’s wasn’t necessarily a guarantee of anything. Ross and Stan had broken up three other times over the last year and, yeah, usually sex was involved, even though Drake knew he shouldn’t give into Ross.

But this time might be different.

Stupid.

Drake had been devastated when Ross had taken Stan back last time. Crying and telling Drake he was sorry but he loved Stan. Now, here he was all over again.

Shaking his head, Drake straightened from the wall, pocketed his cell phone, and walked back to Jay’s front door. Tapping lightly on it, he turned the knob and stepped back inside.

“Sorry about that,” Drake said with a smile.

Jay stood on the balcony of his apartment, the sliding glass door left open, as he looked out over the street below. He still wore the lemon-lime wool scarf around his neck, but he had changed from his work clothes and now wore what looked like painted on jeans accentuating his cute bubble butt and a thin white T-shirt. He faced away from Drake so he wasn’t sure if the shirt was plain or had writing on the front.

He frowned when he noticed the cigarette in Jay’s hand.

“Hey, I thought you didn’t smoke anymore.”

Jay turned to face him, his lips twisted, his pinked cheeks even pinker than usual. He stubbed out the cigarette on the metal railing. “I don’t. Not really.”

“You shouldn’t even have any in your apartment.” Drake knew he sounded like the pompous policeman he was. He couldn’t help it. That was him. “Come inside.”

Jay stepped back into the apartment and closed the slider. His plump lips looked redder than normal, like he’d been chewing on them. “I thought you were leaving.”

“I changed my mind. I’ll go to Ross’s tomorrow instead. You and I had plans.” Drake smiled. Jay didn’t return the smile; if anything, he looked sadder still.

“You didn’t have to do that. I said it was okay.”

Jay’s T-shirt had big red kissing lips on the front with the words You Know You Want to Kiss Meabove them. His golden blond hair was a mass of curls, almost ringlets, giving him an angelic look. Really, Jay was easily the prettiest man he’d ever seen. He knew quite a few bears who’d practically cream in their pants over a sweet little twink like Jay.

“I know you did, but it wasn’t okay with me. We made plans and I’m not changing them.”

Jay nodded. “All right. Do…do you want something to drink?”

Drake smiled. “Sure. What have you got?”

Jay shrugged a little and walked into the kitchen, opening the refrigerator. “Um. I’ve got Diet Coke, iced tea and some wine.” He looked sheepishly back at Drake. “No beer.”

“What kind of wine you have? I’m off duty.”

“I have Chablis and a Riesling.”

“I’ll have the Riesling.”

Jay took out two wineglasses from a kitchen cabinet above the stove and filled them with the chilled white wine. He handed one to Drake.

“Now, how about those appetizers?”

Jay took a sip of his wine and shook his head. “You don’t really want them.”

It was all he could do to hold back a sigh. He adored Jay, he really did, but sometimes it took an extreme amount of patience to deal with the brat. And in his six month acquaintance with Jay, he had learned Jay could definitely be bratty.

“I do want them. I’m starving.” Drake went to the freezer and took the boxes out, glanced at the oven temperature listed, and turned the oven on to preheat. “Are you going to make the guacamole or am I?”

Jay stared mutinously at him for a moment, his full lips almost downturned in a pout, and then, as though he changed to a different person, Jay suddenly smiled, a sweet, sexy as sin smile. “I’ll make the guac; you make the dip.”

* * * *

A short time later, they sat on the couch, side by side, munching on chips, dip, and guacamole while their appetizers cooked in the oven.

“Are you sure it’s okay to eat on the couch?” Drake asked, as he just missed spilling a glop of guacamole on the cushion.

“Oh, sure. It’s just a hand-me-down old sofa from my sister. I think one of her kids barfed on it when he was a baby.”

Drake grimaced. “You need a new couch.”

Jay laughed. “Yeah, I need a lot of new things I can’t afford.”

“You could go back to school.”

“College costs money, too. Besides, I never got really good grades when I was in school.” Jay lifted his long skinny legs and rested them on the coffee table. “I was incredibly average.”

“You average? I find that hard to believe.”

The sweet smile laced with just a smidge of sexiness was back. “It’s true. How about you? Were you good in school?”

“You mean a million years ago?” Drake laughed. Hell, in three years, he’d get notices about his twentieth high school reunion. Which reminded him he had a good ten years on Jay. “I had a 3.6 GPA.”

Jay sighed. “Figures.”

“Okay, so college isn’t for you. How about something else? Trade school? Chef school?”

“Dude, you don’t remember when I tried to make you dinner?”

He winced. Yeah, he did remember, unfortunately. Jay had been making some kind of chicken spaghetti skillet thing that he’d burned beyond recognition. He’d made it in Drake’s apartment and it took him days to get rid of the burned food smell. Never mind waving frantically at the smoke alarms when they’d screeched loudly during the disaster.