On a Roll, Beth Bolden [reading e books .TXT] 📗

Maybe two years of discovering just how stubborn Sean was might be enough to convince Gabriel that it was time to give in. Not likely, but possible.

“I don’t see any other way we can do this,” Sean said.

“Okay,” Tony said uncertainly. He was clearly not convinced either, but while he was also their friend, he was also technically the owner of the ground they parked their food trucks on—an arrangement that over the last six months had made everyone a lot of money and brought tons of success. Nobody wanted to leave. And while he’d not exactly said so, Sean had a feeling that this was a watershed moment. One of them needed to change their name, or one of them was out.

Tony had known Gabriel first. Gabriel was still really well-known in the community. Sean had made a lot of inroads in the last two years, but if Tony had to pick someone, Sean was pretty sure it wasn’t going to be him.

He was better off negotiating with Gabriel, as awful as that idea was.

“Something needs to change by September first,” Tony said. “That’s the first home game at the Coliseum,” he added, referring to the home football stadium of the University of Southern California—the lot was situated only a few blocks away from the stadium entrance, and they already knew on game days, they’d be overwhelmed.

“Alright,” Sean said. “We’ll figure something out.” That gave them a little over a month to either make a decision—or kill each other. Whichever came first.

Tony stood. “Good luck,” he said. “I’ll be around if you decide you need a referee.” And then he was gone, leaving the two of them alone.

Sean couldn’t remember a time they’d ever been alone. Their friends had probably gone out of their way to make sure of that. Not sure if anything would still be left standing if it was just the two of them.

“Not for this,” Gabriel said, and the underlying intensity—the intimacy—in his voice made Sean’s hand freeze on his beer bottle.

He glanced up, and Gabriel was staring at him, those dark eyes reflecting his tone. More than once during the last two years, Sean had been reminded of his very first reaction to Gabriel.

Tall. Big. Broad. Beautiful.

It had been the first time since Milo that he’d seen a guy and felt that instantaneous moment of attraction. Then Gabriel had opened his mouth, and the moment was gone, but it had existed.

Sean often remembered it at the worst possible times. Like right now.

“So,” Sean said, clearing his throat. Trying not to think of how dark the corner of the bar was, how the flickering candle on the table was reflected in Gabriel’s eyes. How the light turned his face into a Renaissance masterpiece. “How are we going to do this?”

“All business,” Gabriel teased, but the edge of his voice was almost . . . sweet. Like he thought Sean’s attempt to be professional wasn’t annoying, but cute.

Something that Sean never expected from Gabriel was sweetness.

“Did we have something else we needed to talk about that isn’t business?” Sean wondered.

“No, but we have time. Over a month,” Gabriel said, taking a sip of his beer. “What’s the rush? Maybe we’ll negotiate better if we get to know each other first.”

“You mean that you want to charm me first so that you’ll get the upper hand.” He didn’t really think that was true—Gabriel could be difficult and frustrating and slippery, but Sean wasn’t sure that he’d do something so underhanded. He wasn’t a bad guy. Sean had learned that much by watching his friendship with Tony and Lucas and Ash and Tate blossom.

Even their own relationship, while still combative, had lost the sharper edges in the last few months.

Gabriel shrugged. “The best negotiation is one where we both get what we want.”

“I’m not sure how we can do that,” Sean admitted. “We both want the same thing.”

“Do we?”

Sean made a frustrated noise. “You know we do. We’ve wanted the same goddamn thing for the last two years, and you even threw a meatball at my chest to try to get me to cave. So don’t start, okay? I’m not stupid. I know exactly what you’re after.”

“Do you?” Gabriel’s mouth curved into something dangerous. Or maybe that was the unwanted attraction to him blooming inside Sean.

“You want to win,” Sean said.

“Maybe we can figure out a way we can both win,” Gabriel suggested.

“Based on what I know we want, I find that hard to believe,” Sean said. Then hesitated. This was exactly why Tony hadn’t wanted to leave them alone. Had wanted to play referee. He hadn’t thought they could do this on their own. Maybe he was right. But then, they’d never actually tried either.

Gabriel drained the rest of his beer and set it on the table with a decisive click. “I need more alcohol for this,” he muttered, standing up. “You want something?”

Buying rounds was a routine thing that their friend group did when they came to the Funky Cup. Sean was sure that Gabriel had bought him a drink before—but never just him. It didn’t mean anything, he told himself firmly, but his heartbeat accelerated anyway. “Anything you’re having is fine,” Sean said, anticipating that Gabriel would come back with another pair of beers.

Gabriel nodded, and walked off towards the bar, where their friend Jackson was tending bar as he did most nights. Sean decided he would take advantage of the momentary reprieve to try to get his—well, it was his dick, wasn’t it?—under control. Maybe Gabriel was undeniably attractive. Maybe Sean hadn’t had sex in four years. Maybe their combative interactions often had an almost flirtatious edge. But none of that meant anything. It certainly wasn’t going to mean that he was going to pant after Gabriel like a thirsty puppy dog.

He was better than that.

He was sure of it.

Then Gabriel returned, and slid a squat glass filled with amber liquid across the table.

“What’s this?”