Gravity (Greenford #2) - Romeo Alexander Page 0,25

and food are completely worth it. Dinner and the first couple of rounds are on me,” Samuel told him brightly.

“I can pay for myself,” Caleb said, a shade too quickly to be anything other than suspicious.

“Right,” Samuel said, beginning to suspect that among other difficulties that had brought Caleb back to Greenford, the man was probably having some financial issues. “But since I’m the one asking you to come out, it’s only right for me to pay.”

“For both the meal and some drinks?” Caleb asked doubtfully.

Samuel laughed at that. “Oh, c’mon, it won’t hurt my wallet. I barely spend my money on anything other than games and books anymore. It’s an excuse for me to dump money into overpriced food and drinks and be able to play catch up with you better than we have so far. Just let me spoil us a little.”

The tension in Caleb’s face told Samuel that the man wasn’t entirely thrilled at the idea. Yet, the lack of an immediate refusal told him he had also managed to persuade him. He would call it pride on Caleb’s part, but Samuel knew if the roles were reversed, he’d be just as stubborn about it. Sometimes when life had you down in the dirt, your pride was one of the few things you had left.

“Great,” Samuel said before Caleb could add anything else. “Meet me at...eight? Unless you’re still going to bed at some ungodly hour like you used to.”

Caleb snorted. “When I used to have to get up at four in the morning. Eight is fine.”

Samuel grinned, spinning to walk away. “Awesome, I’ll see you there.”

He marched away, feeling proud of himself and a little relieved that he’d managed to maneuver the conversation without completely embarrassing himself and also apparently having settled an old problem between them. All he needed to do was get himself out of the building and…

“Shit,” he muttered, stopping.

“Need some help?” Caleb called down the hallway, voice filled with amusement.

Samuel sighed, hanging his head and turning back around, “Yes.”

“Good, because you’re going the wrong way,” Caleb told him, nodding over his head. “Come on, I’ll show you out.”

Caleb

Standing in front of the mirror, Caleb considered his appearance. While he had certainly given plenty of thought to Saturday evening, it was only as eight grew closer that he realized he hadn’t given any thought to what he was going to wear for the...whatever it was he and Samuel were doing. Because if he really thought about it, he had no idea what to consider the upcoming meeting between them.

Which was really the biggest problem he was having, seconded only by his annoyance at feeling conflicted in the first place. He tried to tell himself it was foolish to sit around and contemplate anything more than friendship with the other man. History had already taught him that it was a bad idea or at least one they’d never quite figured out how to navigate.

Plus, it wasn’t as though Samuel had been treating him strangely or any differently than he would an old friend. Sure, there had been that off-hand comment about Caleb’s shorts, but that honestly could have just been Sam. The man was prone to off-the-wall comments, a product of his mouth getting there before his brain did. And sure, maybe there was some vestigial attraction on Sam’s part. Caleb knew there was on his. He really hadn’t been kidding when he’d said that Sam was looking good. The few years had thinned out his face and added some sleekness to his body along with the added muscle.

But no, he was not going to put more thought into the evening than he would with anyone else.

Yet there he stood, before the mirror, considering if he had time to get a haircut. It was already growing longer than he would have liked, and he didn’t want it flying all over the place. Unlike Sam, he couldn’t get away with crazy hair. That still left the matter of his clothes, half of which were still stowed away in a couple of boxes and would probably be in sore need of a wash before they were ready to be taken out in public.

“What am I doing?” he asked his reflection, shaking his head.

Overthinking things, that’s what he was doing. The only cure was to simply stop thinking and just do something instead. With a grunt, he grabbed a green button-up shirt and threw on the best pair of pants he had. It was a perfectly acceptable