Page 38 of Snapping the Ice
“You said that.” He dipped his head. “You make me want to smile. Hell, you make me want to dance in the rain.” He glanced at the door. “If it ever rained out here.” A sharp chuckle sprang from him.
“I’d like to see that.” As I gave him a gentle kiss, the warmth in my chest sprawled all the way to my toes. I couldn’t wait for later.
“Yeah, okay. Now go.” He pushed my chest. “And be careful.” His brows wrinkled. “Text me to let me know if he’s still out there.” He stepped to the side.
“I will.” I unlocked and snuck the door open a crack. Nothing. I inched open the door for a peek. No sign of Tate. “What kind of car does he drive?” It would help if I could look for it.
“A black Mercedes sedan. I don’t know what the model is. The way they name those cars always confuses me.” He held his palms together over his mouth, focusing on me.
Scanning the parking lot, I said, “I don’t see one out there.” Could we be so lucky? “I’m leaving now. Lock the door behind me.”
“Okay.” He furrowed his brows. “Please, be careful.”
“I will.” As my pulse raged, I stepped outside and shut the door. Taking a calming breath, I lifted my chin and looked around. Shit, we hadn’t talked about where I should go or what he wanted. We’d been too busy kissing. As a smile swept my lips, I slid my phone from my pocket and texted him while strolling to the sidewalk.
Lucas
Tate left. Where should I go and what do you want?
Ezra
There’s a Subway around the corner. I don’t want you going to the coffee shop. Tate might expect us there. Can you please get me a meatball sub?
My smile widened. He was a meatball sub guy. Good to know.
Lucas
Sure. Be back soon. I’ll text when I’m back, so you know it’s not Tate.
As I spied the Subway shop centered in a long plaza, I twisted my lips. I wouldn’t yell at the door like Tate had. Fuck that. Ezra didn’t need to be reminded of it.
Approaching the door to the shop, I took in a long line of people stretched from the counter. “Fuck.” This might take some time. I could call Mason while I waited. I texted Ezra.
Lucas
It’s busy, so it’ll take a while.
Ezra
Okay.
As I stepped inside and stood at the back of the line, I called Mason.
The line rang once and picked up. “Bro, to what do I owe the pleasure?”
“Hey, I need to talk to you about something.” I glanced at the line—some guys in paint-stained clothing and mothers with kids. Maybe I should take this outside. “Hold on.” I strode through the door and under the plaza’s overhang, leaning my back against the building’s beige stucco.
“What’s up?” Mason asked.
“I…fuck, you were right. Ilikethe photographer.” I braced myself.
“Ho-ly fucking shit. My little brother’s queer?” He cackled. “Did you hear that, Jett? My little bro’s a chip off the old block.”
“He’s not your son, babe. That term is reserved for a father and son.” Jett snickered in the background.
Shit, was I on speaker? What the hell. It didn’t matter. Jett might have better advice than Mason, anyway. “I have serious shit to talk about.” But where to start?
“I’m sure you do,” Mason said in a serious tone. “What do you want to know?”
