Risking the Shot (Stick Side #4) - Amy Aislin Page 0,40
up. He wasn’t panicking; he was mildly concerned that he couldn’t find the right place to take Dakota.
And it wasn’t often either, considering the last time he’d gone on an actual date was . . . When? So long ago that he couldn’t remember it. Maybe at the tail end of his AHL career?
The sun shone through his Gran’s bay window as they sat on the couch after lunch, watching a baking competition, which was oddly appropriate given where his thoughts were. Had been for two days, ever since Dakota had made him come in his pants like a teenager.
But, then, he’d made Dakota come in his pants like a teenager too. Happy orgasms all around!
Not what he should be thinking about while sitting next to Gran.
“What’s this story about?” Gran leaned over to check out the drawing on his iPad during a commercial break.
Tay angled it in her direction. “It’s the same one I’ve been working on on-and-off since high school.”
“The water witch brothers?”
“Yeah. This is the third book in the series.” Although he probably should go back to the beginning and update his older ones if he ever intended to do something with them. His style had changed and improved a lot since high school.
“Right.” Gran sat back in her corner of the couch. “The one with the three gay brothers. Because that happens in real life.”
“Hey,” Tay protested, chuckling. “You don’t know that it can’t. Or hasn’t.”
“I still think it would’ve made more sense for the second two to be a cousin and a best friend.”
“Nope. They materialized as brothers in my head, and so they shall be.”
His eighty-seven-year-old Gran’s laugh turned into a wheeze, and she coughed into a Kleenex. Tay side-eyed her without appearing to do so. He would’ve sworn that she’d aged ten years since her heart attack in December. She wore her wrinkles with grace, but her skin had sagged, her eyes were glassy, and she was too skinny.
She’d barely touched the lunch Tay had prepared for them: Teriyaki glazed salmon, quinoa, green beans topped with parmesan cheese, and garlic bread as a treat. Her appetite wasn’t what it used to be. He kept meaning to ask his dad about that in case it was something they needed to be concerned about.
The baking competition came back from commercial. Tay closed out of his drawing app on his tablet and brought up the internet search bar, typing in best first date restaurants in Toronto.
He found lots of expensive places, lots of restaurants that looked like they’d be loud given the dinner crowds shown in the photos, and lots of froufrou fancy. Was Dakota into froufrou fancy? Oh wait, how about this one? The facade was completely unassuming, plain white with a window on either side of the door. The inside was long and narrow, two-seater booths on the left and a bar on the right, and their website tagline boasted classic French cuisine.
Hmm. Maybe. He bookmarked the site.
“Hey, Gran. Where would you take a guy on a first date?”
“Hooters.”
His mouth dropped open. “That’s . . . That’s not . . . Gran.”
She wheeze-laughed, slapping her knee.
The front door opened and his dad stepped inside, still in hospital scrubs; he must’ve just come off shift. “Do I want to know what’s so funny?”
“Probably not,” Tay muttered.
“Mom, I brought your toilet paper.” Dad set the package down near the staircase.
Tay turned to Gran. “How come you didn’t ask me to bring it since I was coming this way?”
“Forgot.”
Dad kissed the top of Gran’s head and nodded at Tay. “That looks fancy,” he said before heading for the kitchen.
“It’s not. It’s supposed to be casual French dining according to the website.”
“Since when do the French do anything casual?” Dad called from the kitchen.
“Hey, Dad, where would you take a guy on a first date?”
“A titty bar!”
Tay groaned. Gran thought it was hysterical. So did Dad. Tay could hear him chuckling.
When he got back to Dean and Grey’s mid-afternoon, he found them both in the kitchen putting together a grocery list. A Tenor Jones song played on Bluetooth speakers.
Tay slumped onto a barstool at the island. “Help.”
They looked up from their list with twin blinks. Was that a married couple thing or a we-have-identical-confused-expressions thing?
“What do you need?” Dean asked, a crease forming between his dark eyebrows.
Grey perked up, sending his wild curls tumbling over his forehead. “Tutoring? Because I was reading your textbook and—”
“What textbook?” Tay said.
“Karp’s Cell and Molecular Biology: Concepts and Experiments.”