Page 2 of Breakfast Included

Reno briefly wondered what Tate’s life had been like during their years apart before he opened his eyes to . . . total darkness? He blinked a few times, attempting to adjust to the lack of light, but there wasn’t anything to adjust to. Not even a sliver of light filtered below the doors to the main hallway.

Light from a cell phone flashlight punched a hole in the black, waved back and forth, and a few seconds later, Clark, their event host, shouted to be heard above the confused crowd. “Can everyone look this way, please?”

He clapped his hands, and once he had everyone’s attention, he set his phone down so the flashlight created a spotlight on him.

“Okay, I know that was a bit of a surprise, but I need you all to keep calm.”

Nothing in Clark’s voice gave Reno any cause for concern. Power outages in the mountains were a thing. Heck, he lived on a mountain, and it happened more often than he could count. “Honestly, this isn’t anything strange for an old hotel all the way out here in the mountains.”

“It isn’t?” someone a couple of tables over from Reno’s asked. Reno could just make out the speaker’s features—it was dry-personality guy in the expensive suit.

“Last year, we had the same thing one night. Turned out it was a blown fuse. And I believe up here, power lines go down all the time. Before you know it, the generator will kick in and—”

Reno shielded his eyes and blinked a few times. It took a few seconds to readjust to the sudden brightness. The overhead lights had been low to begin with, so the Christmas lights that ringed the room could take center stage and set the mood for the daters, but after the few minutes of complete darkness they may as well have been high-powered floodlights.

“See, just like that,” Clark said with a note of pride in his voice.

Reno’s vision cleared, and Tate wasright there. In full living, breathing, technicolor-vision focus before him. He was even more gorgeous than Reno remembered, and Reno’s heart did that excited little fluttering thing it had done every time his teenage self had seen Tate. As though his heart didn’t understand the passage of time and he was still that clumsy kid tripping over feet he hadn’t yet grown into.

“This is wild, seeing you here,” Tate said once everyone settled back down.

His grin was conspiratorial, like he had a secret to share. Tantalizing lines bracketed his mouth. They didn’t quite form a dimple, but close enough that Reno wanted to slide his tongue along them. The kiss they’d shared once upon a time replayed in his mind again.

The best and worst moment of his life.

His greatest desire and biggest embarrassment.

He’d crushed so hard on Tate back then, but Ricky had taken his big brother role seriously and was protective of him—overly so. He’d noticed how Reno looked at Tate with hearts bulging out of his eyes like a cartoon character. He’d sat Reno down and explained that Tate was straight and to let it go. But Reno hadn’t believed him. He’d seen the way Tate looked at him when he didn’t think anyone was looking.

It had all come to a head the summer Ricky had thrown an “adios, high school” party before he left to play for an American Hockey League team out of state, and Tate left for university in California. Every time Reno scanned the crowd for Tate, he found Tate looking at him. Tate would only hold his gaze for a second and then turn away as though suddenly realizing he’d been caught staring. At some point during the party, Reno wandered off to the bathroom. When he’d opened the door to leave, Tate had been standing there, looking nervous but determined. He’d looked over both shoulders and then walked Reno back inside, closed the door, and after a long stare, leaned down and kissed him. Though it was Reno’s very first kiss, he’d thrown everything he had into it. He hadn’t done too bad either, he remembered proudly, if the hardness of Tate’s erection pressed against his thigh had been anything to go by. That single kiss had been the most amazing of his life. Even after all these years, no kiss had ever truly compared. There was always something missing.

The day after that life-altering kiss, Tate had ignored Reno. At first, Reno had chalked it up to Tate being majorly hungover. But then he’d taken off early for university, without saying goodbye, and Reno hadn’t heard a single word from him since. Ricky had told him to stop mooning and not to lose his heart to straight guys, but Ricky had never known about that kiss. He didn’t know his best friend wasn’t quite as straight as he’d thought.

“You left,” Reno said flatly. He winced internally at the pout in his voice. He wasn’t a heartbroken kid anymore, dammit. Apparently, all it took was five seconds in Tate’s presence to regress twelve years.

The spark in Tate’s gaze dimmed, but Reno refused to feel any guilt. He wasn’t responsible for Tate’s actions. Tate was the one who kissed and ran, after all.

Tate opened his mouth, but his reply was cut off by Clark, who’d called for a ten-minute break. Their four-minute date was over.

“I’ll be right back,” Tate said as he rose from the table. He raised the empty bottle in his hand to indicate he was going for a refill. “Can I get you anything?”

Reno shook his head and narrowed his eyes.Sure, he would be right back. Tate was running again.

Reno cursed himself for noticing how nicely Tate’s ass looked in his well-fit pants as he walked away, and retrieved his phone from his back jeans pocket to check the time. There was a text on the lock screen from his dad. He opened it with a smile that slipped as he sighed.

Dad: Hope you found your Mr. Right.

Dad: Call me in the morning with all the details.

All the details. Reno snorted. His dad was a hopeless romantic—especially around the holidays. Even after a messy divorce, he still believed in true love. Reno did too, but he wasn’t going to find it tonight.

Tate’s grin flashed in his mind.

Reno shook his head and tapped out a quick reply to his dad. He hit Send, but a “message failed” error popped up.Huh, no bars. He shrugged and pocketed his phone.

He should just head home now and be done with all of this. Except he didn’t want to leave just yet, not now that he’d reconnected with Tate. Even though he still harbored resentment at having been left behind, remnants of how he’d once felt for Tate—always felt for him—refused to fade.

Before Reno decided to stay or go, Tate reappeared. He stood by the table and fidgeted with the label on his beer bottle. Reno’s gaze dropped to his long, slender fingers, and the first note of desire played low in his belly.

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