“There he is!” Howard waved. Carson turned over his shoulder to look. A strikingly handsome man in skin-tight faded jeans, a black T-shirt, and a light denim jacket, tall, well-built, with dark hair and light eyes, smiled as he approached. “Sorry I’m late.” He stood by the available chair. “We just ordered.” Tyson got to his feet to embrace Jag. “Honey, you are so damn hot.” Tyson swatted Jag’s ass with a crack. Carson blinked in surprise at the act. It seemed very overt flirting on Tyson’s part, but Howard didn’t even flinch. Howard stood and said, “Come here, gorgeous, and give me a hug.” Carson watched the two men kiss each other’s cheek and share affection. “That’s my sister Virginia and her boyfriend, Carson.” “Hi.” Jag shook Carson’s hand. The grip was firm and masculine. “Hi, Virginia. We finally meet. Howie talks about you all the time.” Jag sat down and his knee brushed Carson’s under the table. “Sorry,” Jag said immediately. “It’s okay.” Carson felt his cheeks blush. “Oh, God, Carson,” Virginia said, “You’re surrounded by gay men. Can you stand it?” Again, Carson grew upset. He confronted her. “Why can’t I stand it?” “I’m only teasing!” She swatted him playfully. ~ Jag stared at Carson. Oh. My. God. I already hate you, bitch. Look at him! The man was a big brawny jock. His long-sleeved light blue pin-striped cotton shirt had been rolled up to his elbows and open at the neck. Conservatively cut brown hair, dazzling blue eyes, chiseled features and a slight cleft to his chin. His hands were callused and large and Carson’s jeans fit tightly over broad thighs. Once Jag could get his tongue back in his mouth he noticed both Howard and Tyson smiling, as if they knew, oh yes, they knew just how hot this fucking straight boy was. “You came!” The waitress approached with a beer in her hand, setting it before the stunning beefcake. “Not yet, but the night is young.” Jag took off his jacket, since sitting with his knee brushing this stud was turning him into an inferno. “Right. Beer. What are you drinking, Carson?” “Flying Dog Tire Bite Ale.” “Oh, fuck yeah. That.” He pointed at Carson, but knew the waitress assumed he meant the drink. “See?” Carson said, “Another beer man.” Tyson leaned over the table to speak to Carson as the waitress went to get Jag’s beer. “Don’t let the label of Jag being gay fool you, Carson. This boy’s all macho man.” Tyson winked at Jag. “What the hell does that mean? And I’m not?” Howard pressed his hand to his chest. “Sure you are, sugar.” Tyson pecked Howard on the lips. “Behave, Howie, or you’ll embarrass Carson,” Virginia said, laughing. Jag noticed Carson appeared about to blow a gasket. He asked him, “Are they getting bad?” Carson said, “No. She is.” Jag was stunned. He shut up. Virginia whacked Carson on the shoulder playfully and it hit with a thud, like the man was solid marble. “Here ya go.” The waitress brought out Jag’s beer. “These guys already ordered. Do you need a little time?” “No. I’ve been here so often I already know. Just give me the spaghetti and meatballs.” He handed her the menu. “You got it. I’ll make sure they all come together.” “That sound like a party.” Tyson picked up his drink. “Let’s all come together!” He raised it up. The rest of them tapped his with theirs as the waitress laughed and said, “On that note,” and left. Jag noticed Carson give Virginia another look, but he was on the opposite side of Carson as she was and had no idea any history between them, so…he asked. “How long have you been seeing each other, Virginia?” “Three weeks.” She sipped her drink. “We’re working on a year!” Tyson finished his cocktail to the ice. “I can do three more of those, Howie.” “Me too. I love them.” “We’re walking, so let’s splurge.” Jag could see Howard and Tyson’s hands were tightly clasped. He’d known them for ages, since he met Tyson at the spa where he worked as a personal trainer to the Hollywood elite. They had become friends as well as Jag being Tyson’s client. From there he got to meet Howard, the first time they got together socially to have drinks at a club in West Hollywood. Jag drank his beer and laughed. “I can’t get away from dogs. Even my booze is a dog.” Howard and Tyson laughed but Jag could see both Virginia and Carson tilt their heads. So Jag said, “I work at Doggie World. I groom and dog-sit pampered pets.” Virginia said, “I’m more of a cat person.” Jag stared at Carson’s profile as the man contemplated his beer. Like they were taking a poll, Howard raised his hand. “Cats.” “I like both.” Tyson shrugged. “Carson? Any preference?” Jag couldn’t help but put his tongue in his cheek as he asked. “Dogs.” Carson appeared shy. Maybe Virginia was right and being with three gay men was overwhelming the straight dude. The restaurant was now packed with people, some standing out front waiting for seats, others shuffling from outside to inside while waiters and busboys worked hard to clear their tables and feed the hungry horde. The wind had picked up slightly and Virginia shivered, tugging her sweater closer. Carson took his jacket from the back of his chair and placed it around Virginia’s shoulders. Jag melted. Chivalry was not dead. “Thanks, Carson.” Virginia appeared to soak up the attention. “We should have ate inside,” Howard said, “Sorry, sis.” “Do you want to see if we can move?” Tyson asked. “I’m good now.” Jag watched Virginia cuddle with the large, black brushed fleece jacket with a designer label on its chest. He was jealous and trying not to show it. “What do you do, Carson?” Howard and Tyson exchanged glances. Yeah, maybe he was showing a lot of attention towards this guy. So what? “I work at an auto detailing place.” “Nice.” Jag held his beer near his mouth. Tyson and Howard chuckled. “What?” Jag asked. “Nothing.” Howard looked around. “I suppose now that it’s packed in here we won’t get another round. Just as he said it, the waitress, followed by a busboy, brought out their meals on two trays. “Meatballs and spaghetti?” she asked. Both Jag and Carson acknowledged her then pointed to the other one to go first. Tyson laughed loudly. “I love it!” “Love what?” Virginia asked. “Nothing,” Howard said, shaking his head as if to dismiss anything Tyson did. After she had everyone’s food in the correct spot, the waitress asked, “Another round?” “Yes please!” Howard began splitting the food between himself and Tyson. “You got it.” The waitress left again. Jag looked at Carson as he began eating his meal. Likes dogs. Ordered the same food. Has my knee against him and isn’t moving away…shoot me now.
