Nonetheless, Jason was the one who’d asked Colt out that night, and Colt was cautiously optimistic that the other man might finally be ready to try out a different dance.
After grudgingly agreeing to go out with his coworkers for drinks over lunch, Colt finally managed to get the small construction unit back on track. Chuck wasn’t the most organized foreman, but he was good to his crew, and he knew his weaknesses. He’d realized Colt had a knack for planning and logistics years ago and was more than happy to delegate.
Colt headed home an hour early, as planned. It was just enough time to get back to his apartment, grab a shower, and change into something less plaid before he went to pick Jason up at his dorm.
Jason was two years Colt’s junior, and he’d moved into the dorms his first semester at Brown University. Colt knew he would have moved out even sooner if he’d had the chance, but Jason’s family was nothing if not traditional.
As Colt pulled up in front of the dorm in his well-loved but less-than-flashy pickup truck, he felt as out of place as usual. Ivy League college kids definitely weren’t his people, with one notable exception.
Chapter 2
The front door flew open and Jason breezed out, a thousand-watt smile on his face. With floppy brown hair that was always falling into his eyes, begging to be fixed, and big brown puppy eyes to match, Jason was an idealized version of the boy next door.
Hell, he was literally the boy next door, in Colt’s case. As kids, Colt had always been both fascinated by Jason’s nerdy charm and quick wit--his Jasonness, for lack of a better word--and driven to protect him. Despite the fact that Jason was far from the scrawny kid he’d once been and that he was now a good solid inch taller than Colt--a fact that never ceased to irk him--that instinct had never changed. Jason was good and compassionate, and for all his book smarts, he could be naive at times. He saw only the good in people and situations, and there were plenty of people who would take advantage of that.
Jason stopped beside the truck and leaned in through the open window. “One of these days, maybe you could actually come inside.”
Just name the time and place, Colt thought. He cleared his throat. “I’ve seen your dorm.”
“No, you haven’t. The last time you visited, I was still in the Lowery Building,” Jason said, pulling the door open. He climbed inside and eyed the figurine of a pinup giving the middle finger on the dashboard. “You still have that thing? It’s so tacky.”
“She came with the truck, and she’s kind of glued on.”
Jason rolled his eyes. Colt waited until he buckled up to head out onto the road. “How was class?”
“It was great. Especially since it’s the second-to-last day of the semester,” he said with a grin that made Colt’s heart flop violently in his chest.
“Come on, you know you love all that nerd shit,” Colt said with a snort. “I give it a week, and you’ll be counting the days until you go back.”
“Probably,” Jason conceded, tapping his nails on the door. “But it’ll be nice to have some time to breathe before my final semester starts.”
“Sounds ominous.”
“I’ve got advanced criminal justice, forensic law, and an internship with the SVU. Ominous is pretty much a guarantee.”
Colt snorted. “I still don’t know why you can’t pick something more chill to study.”
“Like what?” Jason asked, a glimmer of amusement in his brown eyes.
“I don’t know, divorce law or something. There’s always gonna be plenty of work in that.”
Jason cocked an eyebrow. “Colton Jager, since when are you a cynic?”
Colt hated the long version of his given name, and Jason was the only one who could get away with using it. Jason was the only one who could get away with a lot of things. “I’m just saying, it’s gotta be a more lucrative field than hanging out at crime scenes all day and wiping up blood.”
“For your information, forensic law is about making the connection between forensic evidence and a criminal case. It’s not like TV where the cops just do everything,” he said, waving his hand around. “There are forensic scientists, lab analysts, police officers, attorneys…” He paused to glance over at Colt. “Your eyes are glazing over.”
“Sorry,” Colt sighed, rubbing his eyes. “Just a long day. I like hearing you talk about this stuff, even if I’m not smart enough to understand half of it.”
“You shouldn’t say things like that.” Jason frowned. “You’re so much smarter than you give yourself credit for.”
Colt doubted that, but he also doubted he’d ever win an argument against Jason. He’d certainly found the right calling. “So, where am I headed?”
“It’s your birthday. Shouldn’t you pick the restaurant?”
“You know me, as long as there’s steak, I’m a happy man.” And as long as I’m with you…
Jason sighed half-heartedly. He’d been trying to convince Colt to go vegetarian since they were in junior high, but not even Jason’s debate skills could put an end to Colt’s love affair with USDA prime beef. “You’re barely twenty-five, but you’re going to need a coronary bypass by the time you’re thirty if you don’t watch it.”
“Hey, at least I’ll die happy,” Colt said, pulling into the parking lot of the Rackhouse. It sounded like a place Chuck and Evan would like a little too much, but it was classier on the inside. It was also the one time of year Colt could guarantee their pseudo-dates would take place anywhere other than the eastside hipster restaurants Jason liked so much, but that was as far as Colt ever wanted to ride the birthday train.
It took Colt’s eyes a moment to adjust to the dim interior in contrast to the well-lit parking lot. The place had gone through some renovations, and it was far more romantic in atmosphere than it had been the last time he’d been there. Not that he minded, but it was anyone’s guess where Jason’s head--or his heart--would be that night.
“Evening, gentlemen,” the hostess said brightly, grabbing a stack of thick leather menus. The Rackhouse really knew what it was about. Even the menus were covered in flesh. “Table for two? Or are you waiting on your dates?”
Colt hesitated. If it was up to him, the whole damn world would know how he felt about Jason, but the other man had a different set of priorities. Not that Colt could blame him. His own adoptive parents had taken his coming out in stride, just like they did with everything else, but Jason’s were so high strung they made their ambitious son look like a stoner--and in their eyes, he might as well have been for choosing any career other than business.
“Nope, just us,” Jason said noncommittally. “It’s my friend’s birthday.”
It was a step up from saying they were brothers, at least. That one still stung for reasons Jason probably couldn’t even comprehend.
“Right this way,” she said, leading them to a table by the window. The view of the parking lot and the outlet mall across the street wasn’t exactly breathtaking, but it was nice enough. Now if Colt could only summon the courage to broach the conversation he’d been chickening out on since high school.