to admit that’s what he was doing. And he sure as hell wasn’t going to admit why either.
Topics that involved Portland more often than not also tended to connect to memories of...whatever he had with Caleb. It hadn’t been quite dating, though it had felt like it at times. He couldn’t even call his ending things between them a break-up, but it sure as hell had felt like one.
If there was anything he’d learned since then, it was that time was a harsh lens to look through. He knew all too well that the ambiguity of his and Caleb’s second, sort of attempt at a relationship had been all his doing. After the way things had ended the first time between them, he had been hesitant, cautious, of getting too close to Caleb again. So instead, they had drifted back and forth, getting close only for Samuel to back away and try to keep a safe distance between them. The end result had been painful, messy, and it had been all his fault.
And he’d rather not talk about it or anything that might come back to Caleb.
“A good thing we’re not dating then,” Lucas shot back, but Samuel didn’t need to look at him to know he was smirking. He could hear it in his voice.
“Your tragic lack of love for the male body is noted and will continue to be mourned by the gay world for the ages,” Samuel said in a dry voice. “However will we survive without you throwing yourself into the dating pool for us to fight over?”
“I never said anything to the contrary.”
“Good, don’t.”
“Now you’re just being difficult.”
“It’s what I do best.”
“I hope not,” Lucas said, setting his menu aside. “Otherwise, I’m going to have a great amount of sympathy for anyone you’ve dated or might date in the future.”
Samuel smirked. “I have my ways of making it up to people, don’t worry.”
Lucas shook his head. “You sound like my brother when you do that.”
“Your brother is way more charming than you, so I’ll take it as a compliment,” Samuel pointed out.
“You only say that because he flirted with you.”
“He flirted with me while wearing the smallest pair of trunks I’ve ever seen in my life. How could I not be charmed?”
Which was the exact moment when the server decided to step up beside their table. To the man’s credit, he kept a perfectly professional smile on his face as he asked if they were ready to order. Samuel took great pleasure in watching Lucas scowl at him as he ordered both his meal and his first drink. He then immediately slapped a pleasant smile over his face as he took his turn to order.
Lucas waited until the server was gone to scowl once more. “You’re ridiculous. The poor man is probably scarred.”
“Hey,” Samuel said easily, leaning against the back of the booth. “I could have talked about what those poor little trunks were trying to contain, scarring both of you at the same time.”
Lucas closed his eyes with a groan. “Do not start talking about my brother’s junk, please.”
Samuel debated with himself and finally settled on taking pity on the other man. It took Lucas a couple of minutes to get himself together and stop being traumatized, which was enough time for the server to show up with their drinks. Whatever fruity concoction Lucas had ordered seemed sufficient to distract the man from the previous conversation, and Samuel contented himself with his own drink as they sat in companionable silence.
And then he heard a familiar voice, speaking softly as the double doors leading back inside opened.
“No, thank you. A table will work just fine for me.”
Samuel choked on his drink, head snapping around toward the owner of the voice. He ignored Lucas as the man protested the spray of alcohol that had hit him from Samuel’s surprise. Samuel was far too focused on the man walking to the table, smiling quietly at the bubbly hostess.
“Jesus,” Lucas muttered, wiping at his face.
Samuel continued to stare as Caleb sat at one of the tables, his position facing toward their booth. He would have known the man’s voice anywhere, but not a whole lot had changed physically. Caleb looked a little bigger than the last time Samuel had seen him, apparently having hit the weights more than the cardio, unlike when they’d been living in Portland. His hair was still kept short, almost shorn to his head, and there was still the same sense of utter self-control